Archive for the category “The Story of Lotta”

Those Questions Got You Killed

​After anger comes questioning. Questioning of them, of yourself, of the whole fucking world actually. You were taught to question them, question the status quo, question all the damn time. Because isn’t that how you find the truth? And not any sort of truth, but the realest thing. You know, the realest of truths. You get there, you think you know the realest of truths, but then they come along. They don’t see that truth that you’ve learned. They argue and argue and you keep using the same old trick you’ve learned. Reason and logic. They try to use it as well. They tell you, you don’t know shit. Everything you’ve learned is bullshit. Everything you’ve experienced doesn’t fit statistics. What is it that you’re learning anyway? How is it useful? It’s not like you invented a new vaccine, right? You’re useless. What you learn is useless. Why do you keep questioning everything? If you do, then why don’t you question that realest of truth of yours? 

And so you do. You question it. And yourself. And you lose yourself in that never ending cycle of questioning. Because what is the point of learning about the realest of truths when the people who have the power over it won’t listen? So you think it’s not your fault, it’s theirs, for ignoring the realest of truths. You get angry again. You do something stupid. Now, they only see you through the lens of the stupid thing you did. You’re fucked. 

In the end they’re right, ‘cause you didn’t achieve shit. 

So why not do more stupid things? It’s not like they will see you any different ever again. Might as well play into that new identity they created for you. Be angry, be mean, be right in their faces. Why would you care what they think of you now? They never listened before, maybe they’ll listen if you scare them. Yes, that would be good. 

But no, actually it won’t. It’ll be bad. You’ll end up spread on that wet pavement, your head bashed into the curb. Your blood will fill your mouth, your eyes… then you can tell people you really saw red. You won’t get the chance though. Instead, you end up a media token. Outrage follows. Lots of it. For an instant, they might understand. They might see the realest of truths. But then they quash these uncomfortable thoughts. After all, it’s not in their best interest to tell the world you were right. 

No matter how dead you are.


How to boost your confidence in 10 steps for writers

I was going to write a post about being unworthy of the liebster award that I was nominated for about a month ago. This morning I woke up thinking, I’m not good enough to be a writer anymore. After all, I haven’t posted anything for a moth. This morning as well, I was told by a quite sophisticated panda that I’m being absurd. I can’t just give up because I have some silly doubts. I have to keep writing or die trying.

*dramatic pause*

Actually, I’d rather not die, but you get the gist. Anyway, here is a blog post by Pleats and Keats, that really did boost my confidence as a writer (right after the lecture I received from a stubborn and loving panda).

Embrace your inner artist and develop writer’s self esteem! It’s an important part of being a confident creative!writing tips

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V. The Time I Gained My Voice: Patta’s Story


Patta shivering: a rough sketch

The life of a foximunk is not as easy as one would think.

When a foximunk is born, a ritual is immediately performed to determine what magical ability they innately possess. Then the Council of Parents test their survival abilities of the little ones by abandoning them for at least a week in the wilderness. An eternally long, terrifying, and wit-crushing week.

Sounds fun, doesn’t it? Read more…

IV. To Donna’s! (Which Way is East?)


Unfinished map of Lotta’s world. Once I’m done with it I will also give it a name!

The silence in the room felt so heavy it was bearing down on Lotta, bringing her closer and closer towards the floor. Babi had not said a word since she finished telling him about their troubles and his stare was piercing right through her. To Lotta’s dismay he did not look as amused as she had hoped. Her gaze jumped from Babi to his old bookshelf, to his even older desk, to Babi again and then decided that the floor was the safest bet. She found the cracks in the wooden planks extremely fascinating. Read more…

III. The Outcast Wizard Teaching Anthropology


Rough sketch of Babi, the Outcast Wizard

As he walked into Flinn’s Spellshop, Babi was grateful for the calming smell of old parchment paper after his hectic walk through the Merchant’s Alley. He paused to admire his favorite bookstore, which looked deceivingly small to an untrained eye. Babi once heard a story of a young couple almost starving to death after getting lost in the Spellshop’s maze. Only powerful magicians, usually Senior Academics, venture into the store to browse for more knowledge and wisdom gathered since the beginning of the written word. It is also known as a place where Seniors send their most annoying pupils to have a a break from work for a day or two. Read more…

II. The Peculiar Case of a Spell and the Troublesome Book of Anthropology- Continued


Sha and Patta, a rough sketch

There are things in the Great Empire that greatly confused Sha once he arrived at the Academy. Firstly, he was surprised to learn that his home nation, in the Imperial tongue, is called the Minor Blue Marsh Kingdom. Not only did they get the colour wrong, there is not a single marsh in it.

The first time he corrected Mrs. Splint and said it is actually named “Deep Green Forest Kingdom”, was also when he found out it is better to completely avoid speaking when you have green skin. Read more…

I. The Peculiar Case of a Spell and the Troublesome Book of Anthropology


My rough sketch of Lotta and Patta

‘Lottitia!’ an ear-piercing shriek tore through the usually quiet little house. Lottitia knew she was in deep trouble, deeper than in a Dargul’s belly. Of course, if her mom heard her say that out loud, chances are it would make her more furious.

‘It’s Lotta, for Dargul’s sake mom!’ she yelled back, adding a simple vibration spell to enhance the sound of her voice. Lotta thought she could slow her mom down by shocking her with unladylike speech, while she was desperately trying to hide the cause of her trouble. ‘Patta, come on, help me out, before the siren comes’ she whispered to her pet foximunk. Unfortunately, she forgot her spell was still working. Read more…

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