Writing Tip: 151#

News articles will often sprout great ideas for stories.

Donald Trump

(Especially if you wanna write dystopian (Ooh so edgy)). 


Desert Dance


The desert was lifeless, a barren hellscape, where only bones made home.

The wind howled, and the sand rose and danced.

When the wind didn’t return the sand danced again. They rose, intertwining together before falling under their own weight. The wind howled again enraged.

They tried again, this time the wind taking the dust under it. The dance started, spinning and twirling each particle holding onto the next. They held tight on to each other, needing each other. This had to work.

The arms formed then the torso. She breathed once and collapsed again disappearing back into the desert sand. The desert became silent before the wind whistled, wanting the dance to begin again.

When the Big Boss is away

Cinema Popcorn

“You know I prefer them when they were God-Fearing.” 

“No, you don’t,” Simeon said snatching the popcorn away from Michael. Gabriel was going to be joining them soon for the conclave’s decision. However, until then Michael and Simeon were entertaining themselves other ways.

“Oh, sure please continue your sinful talk you…heathen.”

“Perhaps this is good for you, I’ve never heard you call any human a heathen before, maybe we’ll get you saying nitwit soon.”

“Is this all you do, watch the humans?”

“Not all the humans, mostly this one.”

“Are you his guardian angel?”

“I prefer to think of myself as his biggest fan.”

Michael absentmindedly took the popcorn back; the saint was unable to stop the angel phasing the popcorn bowl through his arms.

“Why do the other humans follow him?”

“Umm, he is their leader…I think. Either that or he’s the town fool.”

“I don’t think humans have them anymore. Good riddance I say, such people should never have been tolerated. The indigent and devil possessed…nitwits.”

“My ears are burning Michael.”

The angel grunted and took a piece of popcorn. Simeon amused himself for a minute longer, watching Michael groan and mutter under his breath until he became bored. He leaned across grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Well Town Fools now get paid quite a lot to be watch by millions on the public stage.”

Michael sighed, “How tragic.

“Do you want to watch?”

 “…Go on then.”

Drumming Beat


Stillness begets the fear,

The children wait with baited breath.

The pound of heart awaiting death,

Are joined by drums that make the air clear.

They pound in the deep,

A sound that rocks the dirt beneath their feet.

It continues through the morning, a never ending beat.

That sounds to awakens all from sleep.

Through the screams and rage,

The beating drums carries on.

Until the final man has fallen,

And drummer leaves the bloody stage.



Building Fictional Cultures

pile-of-booksWorldbuilding is essential my bread and butter when it comes to writing.

It’s the bloody plot I hate to write.

And one of my favourite aspect of worldbuilding is creating completely new cultures. But a lot of writers’ struggle with worldbuilding as it can become very overwhelming. So, I’d like to share a method I like to use to start working on the society and cultures.


Five things

  • Five things that can offend someone in this culture.
  • Five ways to flirt with someone in this culture.
  • Five things that are a sign of social power.
  • Five things that are considered beautiful in this culture.
  • Five things that are considered ugly and undesirable in this culture.


Of course, five separated points for each one is just a suggestion but it’s a helpful middle ground. It’s also helpful to remember that cultures are dictated by their surrounding (the weather, animals, ruling power, materials available, etc.).


Happy writing!

Kathy Xx

(I didn’t create this method, but I do apologise because I don’t remember who I heard it from).

All Dogs Go To Heaven And…


“Do you know how long it took to get here?”

Satan was shorter than he was expecting. He hadn’t moved from his throne as Sam marched towards him with the blood of a thousand enemies on his face and clothes.

“I have crossed the river of fire, defeated your minions and destroyed the dead souls that have suffered for millenniums. Show me your best warrior and I will defeat him!”

Satan took his time before speaking, which was good. Sam was trying not to collapse with exhaustion after defeating the giant parrot. He hadn’t been expecting the giant parrot. 

“You have…defeated our greatest warrior.”

“Was it the turtle? Why does the lake of fire need a turtle?” 

“No, it was Tiyanak, the doomed innocent.”

 “What the bitey baby thing?”

 Satan sighed, “yes, the baby thing.”

 “Oh, you really should give that title to the turtle. I mean he’s now dead to be fair but-”

“You have spent a lot of time getting down here. There must be something you want. A lover, a lost family member. Name it and I will grant you their soul as long as you leave and never return.”

 John fished in his pocket for the small blood-stained photo.

 “A cat?”

John looked her and then thrust it back in Satan’s face

“Tibbles’ isn’t normally that red, but you get the idea.”

If John didn’t know any better, he’d say Satan was judging him, like everyone else. He huffed, he did not need to explain himself to the Devil.

“Look do you have Tibbles or not?” 

There was another beat before Satan raised his hand and a portal of fire and horrors erupted. Out of padded Tibbles, unscathed and yowling

Tibs! Come to daddy!”

The fluffy cat ran into his arms and let him brush her singed fur. 

“I know, I know. I came as soon as I could.”

He looked back up at Satan. He was definitely judging him. 

“I’ll…umm…leave the way I came.”

His legs shook and the blood in his hair would take forever to get out but Tibbles meowing made it worth it