u/blinkin_

There was a post yesterday/earlier today on another writing sub about the lines that writers are not willing to cross, and coming up over and over again was the mention of "harming animals." One commenter even mentioned the fact that their followers would be upset, to put it mildly, if they ever did cross that line. A quick search on Reddit showed me that this question pops up over and over again on subreddits dedicated to writing, and animal harm is never far from the top of the list. So it got me thinking again about the ethics of writing unethical acts, and animal harm is the perfect case study.

First of all, this is not a new idea: it's well known that if you want your audience to hate your bad guy from the get-go, all you need to do is have them kick a puppy. It is unambiguously the cultural definition of evil. People react very strongly to it, but so strongly as to deter all mentions of it in fiction...?

Let me take a quick example from my own writing, which is actually why I've been thinking about this so much lately: in my latest story, Luke, 13, is forced to help his farmer father slaughter a sow. It is something I have seen happen when I was younger; that scene is inspired by that. 

When people say they draw the line at harming animals, I always wonder where the line actually lies. Does it apply only to dogs, cats and horses? Does it include farm animals, which are routinely slaughtered in our world, and whose meat is a part of many people's diet? Does it extend to fishes, or insects? Is the mention of coral reefs dying considered "animal harm"? 

What is baffling to me is that the one place in our lives where we can explore the ethics of harming animals WITHOUT actually harming animals is through, well, fictional writing. The scene I mentioned earlier is a traumatizing memory for the character of Luke, which is further explored in the rest of the story. To me, those experiences shaped the way I view our relationships to animals, and I became a vegetarian shortly after moving out of my parents' home. Exploring those themes through fiction is my way of coming to terms with those experiences, and perhaps to let other people see things through my eyes, if only for a few pages.

Obviously, people should not write about things that they don't want to write about. What worries me, however, is the creation of a taboo. If enough people repeat "I would never write about animal harm," it becomes internalised as something wrong regardless of context. But context is ALL THERE IS in writing. How are people supposed to grapple with ideas that are never mentioned anywhere?

But then again, it comes down to individual choice. If you don't want to ever write about animal harm, or SA, or cannibalism, then you shouldn't and no one should force you to. But I just hope we are making those choices for the right reasons. Not out of fear of being canceled, or losing followers, or because we somehow equate depicting unethical acts and actually condoning those acts. 

I could go on, but this post is getting long and already turning into a rant, and I'm curious to see what you all think. Am I reading too much into this? Or do you find "never" to be too strong of a word for a writer?

I am terrible at staying motivated past the initial rush that I feel when a new story idea pops into my head. I genuinely don't know how many page 1's I've written over the years, which in itself frustrates me to no end, but this is not actually what I want to talk about it.

I recently managed to motivate myself long enough to write a story which I've been thinking about for years now (since before Covid I think). It's quite a short story, about 15k words, but it's also a story which means quite a lot to me so I figured if I ever was to start somewhere, that was it. And I actually ended up with a (veeery rough) first draft, so yay me I suppose. At least one story of mine which has come to life outside of my brain.

But now that it's on the page, it feels so tiny and insignificant. It's not the beautiful, perfect thing which grew and lived in my mind, it's just... One story. A string of words you might find if you pulled a random book from the Library of Babel. It hits every story beat that I envisioned (even many new ones which I quite like), the characters are much more fleshed out than they were when I started writing it, but it still feels smaller.

It was never my goal to get it published, or even necessarily to post it somewhere online. I just wanted it to exist. And now that it does, I'm wondering if it was worth the trouble haha. Or at least, I'm wondering how to salvage it and blow it back up to the size it felt when it was still a perfect little ball of "what if"s.

Does anyone else feel like that sometimes about their stories? Do they also seem to shrink when they become words on a page? How do you deal with that?

Very mild spoilers for The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay:

"Sabrina carries the kitchen trash bin to the middle of the floor. She wipes her hands on her jeans as though her hands have already handled the towels and are covered in blood. She bends and lifts the sludgy-blood soaked towels, and drops them heavily into the bin and two black flies spin into the air like whorls of smoke."

I've been reading the Cabin at the End of the World lately and I must say I'm thoroughly enjoying it. It has also won several awards and been a huge commercial success, so it's basically impossible for me to attack the book on its quality in good faith.

The above excerpt is the first paragraph I've read today, right after picking up the book. I must say, it pushed me right back out of the scene. The repetitive sentence structure, the back-to-back reuse of several words (hands, towels, ...), the "TV script" feel... This is the kind of things I am extremely critical of in my own writing, and these are the kind of paragraphs I spend hours agonizing over. But at the end of the day, Paul Tremblay is a successful published author and I'm an insecure self-criticizing dumbass who struggles to write a few pages in a month.

So, what do you all think? What is your threshold for saying "yep, this is good enough, I gotta move on now"? Do the things I mentioned also jump out at you, or do you find it completely okay? My own dreadfully slow progress has me overthinking and second-guessing everything I read and write, and I don't think I like that haha. I could use some perspective from you all.

I will try my best to explain my problem correctly and concisely. I am writing a story about a group of kids where there isn't really a main character, so I initially decided not to have one of the kids be the main POV. I wanted a more external POV, one that isn't attached to any of the characters in particular but represents more of a neutral and external observer.

Problem: I absolutely suck at it. For some reason, writing like this feels incredibly ungrounded, and ends up being a sequence of "he walked she talked". It's unpleasant to write and painful to read back. Out of desperation, I switched to a first-person POV and now my writing is flowing a lot better...

However, my practical issue has now turned into a bit of an epistemological one. I had imo good reasons to not want a main POV, so resorting to having one because of "skill issues" feels very unsatisfying. Does anyone have some advice, some ressources or some examples of this kind of writing being done right?

Thanks in advance, I look forward to y'all's insights.

Addendum: I am realising with the first replies coming in that I should explain why I'm "against" it in the first place. One of the themes I'm exploring through that story is this kind of coming-of-age realisation that you do not ever truly learn what goes on in other people's heads or lives, even if you spend most of your waking hours with them. Having a distant POV was conceptually a way of expressing this idea through the writing: the reader is not different from the characters, as they can only know what the characters choose to reveal to one another and by extension to the narrator.

I feel like I should preface this by saying I've felt a bit jaded with my horror movie experiences in the past few years, and I have been wondering if maybe I was the issue; if maybe I was looking for something else without being honest to myself about it.

Even after seeing the latest craze flick (you know the one), I came out of the cinema thinking I had a good time, but nothing more. My FOMO has definitely been acting up big time when I see everyone being so excited about it while I'm left behind, not sure why I can't feel the same way.

But today I watched Together (2025) and I LOVED IT. Like, genuinely loved it. I found it relatable, and engaging, and all around fun to watch. It really struck a cord with me. I don't think it's a coincidence considering the Thing is my favorite movie of all time (not that I would put the two on the same level but, you know, there are definitely some references to it in there).

All around, this rekindled a bit my love for horror movies and I highly recommend you give it a watch if you haven't :)

Not really sure how to start this. Like the title says, I have had a very inconsistent and on average very low sex drive for a few years now, and it's kinda bumming me out. Spring is here, which is a period where I historically got very horny, but I just... Don't anymore. I remember a few years back just seeing for the first time that year a hot guy in a tank top on the street and getting so turned on just from that. I miss seeing my partner and feeling incredibly attracted to him. I miss having sexual fantasies randomly popping into my noggin and turning me on like crazy. I miss getting random crushes or seeing a hot dude and thinking about it for the rest of the day. I miss all the tiny little things that made my sexuality feel rich and special.

I can feel the questions coming, so a bit more info about me: I'm 27, in good shape and healthy. I did mention this to my doctor, and the bloodwork ruled out low testosterone, diabetes and the likes. I don't see a therapist, don't have the money for it atm. Frankly I don't know what to do about it. My partner has been incredibly understanding, but I know it bothers him as well, which makes sense. It just feels like a part of my life that I really enjoyed is gone without so much as an explanation or any indication that it will be back at the some point. It just kinda sucks.