iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 21/09/2026

Ugh. Wishing you a rapidly improving evening! 💙

Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 21/09/2026

My favourite four are Boys for Pele, Choirgirl Hotel, Under The Pink and Little Earthquakes (in that order). Deluxe editions most welcome!

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 08/09/2026

Proud to once again be backing Laken @mycelialwriter.bsky.social in another super-exciting Kickstarter campaign. Please check out the wonderful options, they are well worth it! www.kickstarter.com/projects/lak...

kickstarter.com

The Mycellium Forest: A Dark Fantasy Novel

Book 3 of an epic dark fantasy series of ancient forests, found family, unlikely allies, forgotten histories, and slow-burn romance.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 07/09/2026

I love the detail about the rooted buildings, drawing up water and nutrients - very cool analogy.

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Mike Struan @mikestruan.com · 07/09/2026

This is a difficult #WIPSnips week, but I'll do my best! We'll start with a breathtaking troll-map-sculpture! #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Kraghtol ignored the dwarf and followed the Spoken One. In the center of the hall, elevated on a granite socket at least ten meters in diameter, was a giant stone sculpture showing an incredibly detailed landscape. Different parts of the sculpture used various kinds of colored stone. The river running through it, for example, was made of a glittering blue gemstone. Sapphire perhaps?

“Oh! That’s here, isn’t it?”

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 07/09/2026

Ooh, I do hope so! 😊 It's supposed to be a slightly alarming mystery at this point...

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Headless🎃Horsewoman🪉💎🏹🐴⚔️ @acturek.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #elevator -> vibes: basket on a rope! Drisal and Rushak taking action during a crisis. Observer: Bráthal. - Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power

children. He deftly raised the youngster from the landing and with a couple gentle swings, delivered her across to be caught by Rushak. He threw the rope back and Drisal gave it to the next child. Working in
concert, the brothers were like one being, each one's actions timed perfectly to the other. Each child in succession found escape, the oldest wearing slings
carrying infants, and Lyndina last. By the time
Rushak set her on her feet, the landing she'd swung from was burning. Drisal had disappeared. Rushak lowered Lyndina and the children from the landing in
baskets normally used for hauling goods into the felara. Once aground, she and the grateful parents shooed the children ahead as they fled toward Talman
and the others. Rushak watched them a moment, and then disappeared inside.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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PJC Cahill @pjccahill.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

#WIPSnips -Tangled Web (TaMB 3)- Subbed 'lift' because my use of elevator was too spoilery. CW: foul language Context: These are Russian mob members, fleeing from a fight with the Irish mob, not realizing they have a MUCH bigger problem. That problem being Portia. My Books: pjccahill.carrd.co

"FUCK YOU, IRISH PIGS!" screamed in English as he unloaded his pistol with frantic, random bursts all over that side of the warehouse.
His gun clicked, empty, but he kept swinging his arm and squeezing the trigger, starting to hyperventilate.
And then a voice replied, and it filled all three of them with a primal level of terror that cut through their nerves and thoughts, leaving them stone-still and cold in their own skin. Even Lev turned into a statue of pure terror.
It had to be some kind of voice, the words were clear, but the sound was utterly inhuman. Guttural, resonant, and horrendously loud from behind them, completely opposite the doorway.
"Not Irish. Not a pig."
Lev twisted, his arm swinging like a branch. The pitiful click of his trigger clicking continued as he aimed at the... thing shaped like a person in the shadows, too far from any windows to be clearer than a dark mass in the gloom.
Fyodor and Sergei peeked around corners of their cover. They saw the shadow start to lift its arms to the sides.
"Thank you for making such a mess. No one will look for you now."

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🫜Tara S Geir🫜 @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

Using the ‘lift’ instead of ‘elevator’, Gloria cooks a ‘please don’t be mad at me’ meal for her wife Isley. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

On the top left corner of the front door, a blue light pinged and Gloria looked up with excitement. Isley had entered the hyper-lift. It would now be a smooth descent that took twenty-thirty minutes, depending on stops, and then they'd be together. That was more than enough time to finish the cream of sweet potato soup and put the vanilla panna cottas in the fridge. Isley's sweet tooth was larger and more robust than her actual teeth.

Gloria busied herself with cooking. Vivid orange smears covered the normally pristine white worktops but it was a relief to see some colour in the room. Gloria had even spent a lot of credits on real flowers that were already wilting under the harsh lights. The florist had told her they were sunflowers but Gloria had liked them as the petals were the same colour as Isley's eyes.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 07/09/2026

Hi hi, #WIPSnips, it's been a while! It's got to be ✨vibes✨ today - no elevators in my Regency x High Fantasy crossover novel #Ellamir (and if there were, they'd be lifts!) so instead, we find Ella just about to go where an elevator might take you: upstairs. But things are about to get weird...

A snippet from Ellamir by Cameron A Malin:
“Oh, damn Keaning to the hells,” Ella muttered, intended only for herself but, in fact, audible enough to bring the footman around the corner.
“May I light a room for you, Miss Ellamir?” he asked, too professional to appear surprised to find her in the darkened passageway.
“No,” said Ella, pushing aside her churning thoughts for a moment, “thank you, Thomson, but I shall go upstairs. Please ask Mary to attend me in a moment.” She was turning away from the footman’s acquiescent bow when something cut through the silence of the somnolent house, a sound that froze her to the spot, cocking her head sharply. “Do you hear that?” she asked.
“I hear nothing, ma’am,” said Thomson after a moment.
“Nothing at all?”
“No, ma’am.”
It was clearly audible to her, however; an odd note, high and clear, carried in through an open window from the garden beyond. Ella took a step along the passage, following as if called, and heard the voices - for a shifting cadence and joining harmony made it suddenly apparent that she was hearing a growing choir of united voices - with a sudden, shocking jolt of recognition. It was a sound she knew, unheard for many years but unmistakably familiar, a distant sound from her childhood, calling to her again from far across the intervening years: the stars were singing.

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🫜Tara S Geir🫜 @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 07/08/2026

Halla and Strope share a moment picking up pieces of a broken mug under a grotty table. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The floor was even stickier than the table. Grime and dust stuck to his knees and Strope bent low to pick up the pieces of pottery. Halla already had a cluster in one hand but her face was curled up in a grimace. "Sorry," Strope apologised.

Halla's face loosened and she managed a small smile. "Is it always this grubby?"

"If you're on the floor then yes," Strope replied as he reached for a bit of the handle.

"Ahhh, I just thought that's why you're covered in stains. Again."

Judging by her face, Halla wasn't insulting him but more poking fun. Half her face twisted into a smile like a thin vine trailing up a pale wall. It was strangely attractive but Strope tried to put that thought out of his head. Instead he chuckled dryly and went back to picking up the smaller pieces. Halla's hand reached out for the same one and their fingers traced each other for an instance. Pulling them away, Strope caught Halla's gaze and realised her eyes weren't grey. They had shards of blue and green that twinkled under the covered lights.

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Laken Honeycutt 💫 Book 3 Kickstarter is live! 💫 @mycelialwriter.bsky.social · 06/08/2026

I'm so excited to invite readers back to Ulli! 🌲✨️ The Kickstarter for The Mycellium Forest launches 9/1! Whether you're a longtime reader or brand new to the series, I'd love to have you join the journey. Follow the prelaunch page here: www.kickstarter.com/projects/lak... #BookSky #DarkFantasy

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 07/08/2026

Wishing you a gentle day and as little stress as possible as you get ready to go away! 💖

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 07/08/2026

✨Vibes✨ for #WIPSnips today - Ella finds it hard to handle a strange experience and sudden shock in the garden This sequence has given me much trouble, but I think I might finally be nearing the end! This is oven fresh and VERY first drafty 🙂 From my Regency X Fantasy crossover WIP #Ellamir

A snippet from Ellamir by Cameron A Malin:
But the sound that escaped her was not a beautiful note wreathed into the harmonies of the multitude, but a terrified shriek, for just as she had readied herself to sing, her own name had rung out, clear and unmistakable, three long strains that formed it: Ell-a-mir!
The realisation struck her in the heart with a frozen shard of terror, and her nascent song became a scream, painfully loud in the darkness, cutting into the night so sharply that even the joined voices vanished instantly. She staggered, her eyes still fixed on the heavens which clouded instantly into darkness, the vivid expanse veiled, the vision torn away. She cried out again, this time in anguished grief for immeasurable loss as she fell back into the bleak ordinarity of the now-silent summer night, and folded to the ground, stricken with sorrow, drained and gasping for air that scorched her lungs. She heard her name again, but this time it was “Miss Ella!” in the unmistakably earthly voice of the footman, dashing across the lawn to her.
“Never mind it,” she heard herself saying, “I merely tripped. It was just the shock. Never mind it,” and then she was on her feet, unsteady but standing. Her first steps towards the house were weak and ill-directioned, but spurred by the certainty that she must appear quite untroubled, she summoned her strength and soon she was walking over the grass as she might on any afternoon, while the curtain of night concealed the tears that fell upon her chest and would not stop.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 29/07/2026

Really sorry to hear this. Sending love 🫂

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 28/07/2026

Hi hi, #WIPSnips! Today's post revisits the loathsome Brother Nicholls as he is suddenly regretting his decision to add a roadside kebab to the excessive amount of gin pressed upon him by his lady patroness. From my Regency X Fantasy crossover WIP #Ellamir #BookSky #IndieAuthors #AmWriting

A snippet from Ellamir by Cameron A Malin:
"Oh, oh," he moaned to himself, "curse that halfling - his pork must be criminally unfit for consumption, and he should have advised me more persuasively to treat that pepper with the utmost caution. No doubt his ale was also on the turn. I shall ensure the magistrate hears of this, and revokes his certificate."
Legal recourse was, though, neither here nor there at that moment: it was becoming apparent that not another mile could he go before some unfortunate gastric event must disrupt his journey - nay, not another moment might be spared! Uttering a strangled cry to once again halt the coach, Brother Nicholls was already halfway out of the door before the horses were sharply reined in, the shock of which sent him sprawling for a second time. One of the coachment leapt down to aid him, only to recoil at the sight of the Brother's bulging eyes in his grimacing green face; a moment later, the pork, the bread, the onions, the leaves of lettuce, the tomatoes, the garlic sauce, the culpable pepper and the ale were all violently returned to the earth from which they ultimately came.
Brother Nicholls was incomoded for some minutes, whimpering pitifully between the convulsive regurgitations which afflicted him so forcefully and unpredictably that, when he was finally able to stagger to his feet, it was found that his best surplice and shoes were both liberally coated with the effluent of his indisposition. Abandoning the explanation he had been forming to deliver to the coachmen at the sight of their disgusted expressions, and noting that neither of them had chosen to assist him in regaining the carriage, he hauled himself back up to its interior where the lingering aroma of roasted meat and onions was no longer nearly so appealing, and consoled himself with private muttered reflections upon the inhumanity of the serving classes and the duplicity of halfling caterers, all of them fit only for the gaol, if not for the gibbet.

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Laken Honeycutt 💫 Book 3 Kickstarter is live! 💫 @mycelialwriter.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

Isaac and Armaiti working together again 💙🍃 This is from the end of the book so didn’t want to share too much. Also sharing some news regarding Book 3 later tonight… 🎪🖤✨ #WIPSnips from TMF for “assist”.

From draft three of Book 3 (TMF), chapter 40, Isaac POV

“I have an idea,” Isaac said, and with his mind magic, he sent a message to his dear friend. Armaiti, I need you and half a dozen Water Clan Lumani.

Armaiti arrived shortly with a handful of his fellow Water Clan, and Isaac hurriedly explained his plan. Armaiti was powerful without Isaac and Ebiz’s assistance, but with it…

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Mel Waverly @melwaverly.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

From WIP 3 - The First Lesbian Book Club Liv is right, Cèilidh, she is quite skilled at it. #WIPSnips #QueerWriters #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #sapphicwriters #FLBC #SapphicWriters #WritingCommunity

“Yes,” Cèilidh admitted. “I am afraid of the nei.”
“I do not believe she will say nei,” Liv said. “But even if she does, at least you would know. You could let your heart heal and move on.” She lifted her glass slightly. “And if you require assistance meeting ladies, I will help you. I am quite skilled at it.”
Mel Waverly - The First Lesbian Book Club, chapter 13

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Colin J Lewis @colinjlewis.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

"May I assist you..." Always someone willing to assist... If they can. From An Unkindness of Ravens #WIPSnips "assist" #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

librarian; Rufus Latimer, a thin, elderly man with wire-rimmed spectacles, looked up at him.
“May I assist you, sir?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Detective Inspector Archibald Halford, Scotland Yard,” he told him, in a voice that was a little too loud for the man’s liking. “I need access to your archives; I’m researching an organisation called the Shadow Court of Ravens.”
Rufus frowned, adjusting his glasses.
“The Shadow Court of Ravens?” he questioned. “I’m afraid you’re more than a hundred and fifty years too late.”
“Really,” Halford said, slapping the three-headed raven brooch on the table. “I don’t think I am.”

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Aud Connelly: transcribing #Dogwood3 (66.9/95k) @audconnelly.bsky.social · 27/07/2026

B&N shipped my dogwood 1-2 copies !!! I have a little reading homework to do and then we're back in #Dogwood1

static.klipy.com

Catrave: Cats in Sunglasses at a Rave

ALT: Catrave: Cats in Sunglasses at a Rave

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Headless🎃Horsewoman🪉💎🏹🐴⚔️ @acturek.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #assist Drisal is not being set up for success. - Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power

Lord Deran seemed to sense his apprehension but spoke no word of comfort. He waited with calm expectancy. And so, breathing, Drisal sank his awareness into the stone. Feelings and images came,
tentative at first, then in a crushing flow. Firelight surrounded him in darkness. Humans, Kudrum and animals screamed amid glowing, maddened eyes.
Smoke filled his nostrils and then his mouth. He coughed and choked on pain and blackness.

He opened his eyes to bright sunlight. He was sitting on the slushy ground and the real smoke was drifting elsewhere. He squinted after it. Lord Deran and Lord Shelwon, already in a meditative state, could do nothing to ASSIST him. What if they saw the
things he saw? A shadow dropped over him; it was Cerel helping him to his feet, an unasked question in his eyes. Drisal waved him off, shading the gem in his right hand with the palm of his left. He peered
into it, studying its clouded greenish light. He drew breath and began again.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 28/07/2026

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Pamela Jeong 🫜💙🧡 @pamelajeong.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

Hello, #writingcommunity and #poetry lovers 📚💙 This #poetrybrew is a favorite of mine for hard times. “Everything Is Going to Be All Right” by Derek Mahon

Everything Is Going to Be All Right

How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The lines flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.

—Derek Mahon

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

GG! Every time we succeed at coping is worthy of a little self-celebration IMO

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

Hello from another noble of Sealand! E Mare Libertas!

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

This is intentional, as I'm trying a different technique with WIP #2 to see how I get on. But either way, I never write chronologically - even if I start that way, I'll get an idea and have to get it down and worry about bridging that gaps later. I find it's how I do my best work. 🧵2/2

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

#SummerOfStories | 22 It depends on the story: WIP #1 #Ellamir started as an self-amusing pastiche sketch and then came together as a coherent story. WIP #2 was an idea, long-brewing, that I finally decided to start to plan. I'm still planning, and have barely written 500 creative words yet. 🧵1/2

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Neha Yazmin🍉Author | Reader | Dessert Person @nehayazmin.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

Vikesh Patel, they could never make me h8 you✨ #snippet from my YA romcom, We’ll Never Forget, Oli’s POV #WIPsnips prompt: ‘grand’ | CW: mild swearing #romancebooks #writesky #booksky #YAbooks

Vik pats my back. "If movies taught me anything about winning a girl's heart, it's that grand gestures go a long way."

"Like a song and dance number in the courtyard?"

His face lights up. "Great idea! We could film it for TikTok—you were joking, weren't you?" His smile fades.

"Hence, the deadpan voice."

"Shame. That would've been fun."

"I don't know what kind of grand gesture Meg will like...”

He purses his lips. "Sounds like you don't really know her, Oli. Should you get back together?"

"So you can date her?" I snap.

"Shit, Oli. Of course, not. What do you take me for?" He scowls.

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📚 Ellie Rhymer! Spaceships and Scoundrels 📚 @ellieyellu.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

Indulge a double #WIPSnips post, for I have realized I have the word in the true WIP (not so easy to Find & Replace in the sketchbook 😆) Handwriting translation in alt! Untitled Sapphic Thriller: Lacey Brooks contemplates the need to have the deck painted. A family with a rotting stripe through it.

A large wooden deck leans itself against the back of the Brooks' house, painted in the sun every four summers or so, first by Rodger Ballagerion, Lacey's grandfather, and then by Bill Ballagerion, her father, who had replaced the whole thing in the early 90s when a particularly heavy snowfall had pulled the whole thing away from the house, revealing in the spring snowmelt a rotting black stripe across the back of the house when they opened up the sliding door.

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🫜Tara S Geir🫜 @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

Strope isn't the only member of his family who didn't want to be a wizard. Also, some foreshadowing. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

"But I don't want his powers!" Strope squeaked. "I'm not a wizard. Really, I'm not." Strope knew what happened to wizards. How they manipulated their bodies, often for the benefit of others. He knew how they died.

"I'm sorry," Slate stood up and picked up some crumbs from her sleeve. "I've scared you but I just wanted to warn you about what may happen. I was your age when your grandfather first arrived in the Keep or rather was forced in. Kicking and screaming and refusing to admit he was a wizard. It took time to turn him into the Great Wizard Levytus so many feared."

Strope squirmed in his seat as Slate spoke. It had taken years to shake off the shame of being related to the old Great Wizard Levytus and now people would look to him as if he was the new title bearer. Maybe he should just change his name or move somewhere else? Slate placed a hand gently on Strope's shoulder. "The clerks protect their own and you'll always be safe with us."

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🌱🫜 Charlie (Chelizabeth) Delta 🦊🪻 @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

July 22nd – grand Fox is hiding something. It’s probably fine 😁 #DawnsBlood #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

She had barely spoken to him since they’d left the Archive, except when necessary for planning their next move. And she seemed to be avoiding both him and Mikiva, under the guise of ‘scouting ahead.’
Perhaps she was just sulking, dwelling on the failure of her grand plan, but that wasn’t usually her style. There was something she wasn’t telling him. And Fox only avoided telling him her plans when she thought he would try to stop her. That meant that whatever this was, it was something truly reckless.
He considered trying to get it out of her, but their current environment made that difficult. It would probably have to wait until they made it down. If they made it down.
Av’ry sighed and began trudging through the snow again.
Mikiva fell in step with him. “We’re screwed, aren’t we?”
“It is a distinct possibility,” he admitted.
“Fantastic,” she muttered.
“Well, let’s not panic yet. There’s got to be a path somewhere.”
“Right. Because these mountains are so notoriously friendly and accessible.”
Av’ry had to admit, she wasn’t wrong.

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Headless🎃Horsewoman🪉💎🏹🐴⚔️ @acturek.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #Grand Jedhrath the pious herald marches into war. - Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers and their misunderstood power

Jedhrath looked up at the snow-covered peaks of the Kigal. They towered above all, their faces flat and imperious, their jeweled crowns puncturing the sky. GRANDer than the Lago and huge beyond his imagining, they had been there since before history.
They would be there long after the ages turned and his people were dust. Those mountains had watched a
thousand battles, a million migrations, their high slopes unmarked by the suffering or the dreams of those who walked beneath them. Primitive Firimar had made them gods. Today's struggle would be
another insignificance at their feet. Jedhrath mouthed a prayer of thanks that the hope of his people rested on the loving guidance of Maledin-Iryla and not upon
the inscrutable dispassion of those upthrust peaks, as indifferent to the Sheltri on the slope as they were to the snow-hares.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

A really lovely piece, engaging and illustrative - I really enjoyed it, but then I love a good sensor array!

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Kamikaye @kamikaye.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

A sweeping description of whats going on at the beginning of 'Cloudgazer' #WIPSnips #WriteSky

The actual sensor and weather station was encapsulated in a fingernail-sized hardened chip at the top of the cupola. Garishly efficient. It could take in the whole visual spectrum and windspeed. Flow fields of water and atmosphere. Even precipatation amount and makeup, geological movements and fields. It sent all of this via optical cable to the main computer in the basement, where it sat shielded under heavy ferrocrete plating. An absolute necessity on Caza 5, known as one of the least turbulent ocean moons of the 54 moons orbiting the gasgiant Bellente 3.
The third planet of the Bellente system and still teeming with strong EM-currents. On initial surveys hundreds of years ago the astronomers ordered the moons in alphabetically named groups. Ascending in orbital ranges. Caza 5 was in the middle band and well suited for a lone observatory. Which looked at weather, tides and movements of the whole planetary lunar turmoil surrounding it. Besides that hermits dream position there were maybe 10-15 others mingling the semi-stable zone of Caza 5. Busy with various survey, research and cataloguing works for the alliance's grand stellar cartography programme.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

Yes, it was definitely a thing people liked to build. I especially like stately homes that were once abbeys, architecturally, although of course they most likely have a bit of a murky past...

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

Yes indeed - Hannah is in for a very memorable night! 😊

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 22/07/2026

Hey, #WIPSnips! Surprisingly I only have one instance of "grand" readily to hand, considering all the great houses in my Regency X Fantasy crossover WIP #Ellamir Hannah sees the grandeur of Keaning Abbey up close for the first time when she visits Maqine for tea #IndieAuthors #AmWriting #BookSky

A snippet from Ellamir by Cameron A Malin:
There had once been a footway leading from the boundary path down the side of the valley to the dam, where one could cross the river and so come to the abbey buildings, and though the grass had returned abundantly in the intervening years, Hannah could have still made it out even if there were not now a new sign, right where she had met Maqine yesterday, reading "Keaning Abbey: Enqs. to Estate Office". The way down was a little steep, but presently she came to the dam and crossed over it, and there she was, where no resident of Upthorpe had been for almost two decades: the inner grounds of the august old abbey itself.
The fences of the sheep-pen were, she had seen from above, on the far side of the house and its outbuildings. Not far beyond the dam began a more established road set with ancient paving; she passed the mill-house and forge with its tall chimney, made her way along a pretty block of four terraced worker's cottages somewhat overgrown with ivy, and so came to the stable-gate. Beyond this lay the handsome stable block, of a harmonious design with that of the residence some way behind it, a very grand and rather imposing house, with its imitation battlements giving the impression of a well-ordered castle in which elegance was much favoured over defensibility. Higher even than the house with its three principal stories, though, rose the walls of the ancient abbey, its nave running the whole length of the residing-wings to which it had been attached, its dull leaden roof pitched sharply, and its two western towers which, though tall, were only smaller echoes of the great bell tower that soared over all.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 21/07/2026

Yep. I just found out she could sew today! 😆

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Headless🎃Horsewoman🪉💎🏹🐴⚔️ @acturek.bsky.social · 21/07/2026

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #pry Cerel, Drisal and friends are fleeing through enemy-occupied territory. An unexplainable thing has just occurred. - Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers and their misunderstood power

Cerel looked up at Drisal. His friend was
oblivious to him—indeed, to all that had
happened—so he turned to help Virgil PRY snowballs from the Agents' horses' feet. Theris explained further, confirming his feeling that the dru'ach would
have taken his life essence and made it theirs. The only known way to prevent that was a quick arrow through the heart... until now.

"But I don't know what I did—“ Drisal
hiccuped. He swiped at his running eyes and nose with his sleeve, smearing snow and mucus across his face. "What happened. I don't..." Another sob heaved through him. He looked so weak. Weak like Cerel had never seen him.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Reposted by Cameron A Malin

🫜Tara S Geir🫜 @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 21/07/2026

Halla's been secretly sent by Slate to find out if Strope's a wizard and she realises she'd rather help than expose him. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

"I don't trust the clerks," Lakie was wringing her hands as she went downstairs. "They have no sympathy for people like us. None at all."

It would be futile to try and argue with Lakie and so Halla breathed in deeply and spoke with a certainty she didn't truly feel. "Clerks protect their own. And he is a clerk in obvious distress and I can help."

"You don't want to help him. You want to snatch him away from me."

The reality of what Slate had asked Halla to do weighed heavily. Any doubts that Strope may have inherited his brother's powers were dashed but this was not a celebration. She'd heard the fear in his voice, the way his eyes had flickered around the room for an escape. The way he'd howled Karl's name before they'd left. Whatever was happening to Strope was terrifying.

"Please," Halla inched forwards. "I will not pry him from you." She put her hand over her heart. The same gesture of respect Strope had once shown her. "I can help him."

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 21/07/2026

I'm delighted to have my very own piece of @nushdeco.bsky.social artwork, depicting... who else?! Thanks Nush, she's wonderful! 😍😊

Many a decent young lady might be forgiven for shrieking or even fainting away; as it was, Hannah could only stand and stare, quite taken aback by how strikingly unusual she looked, and how fiercely, terrifyingly, ravishingly beautiful she was.

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Cameron A Malin @camalin.net · 19/07/2026

Sharing this blog written by my friend who is undergoing chemotherapy and awaiting surgery for breast cancer. It's a frank and honest account, but also an engaging and entertaining read, and I think it could be a comfort for anyone facing a similar journey 💖 this-too-shall-pass.uk/2026/05/22/d...

this-too-shall-pass.uk

“D’you think it’s cancer?”

At the time of writing, women in the UK are routinely invited for free NHS breast screening at some point during the three years after their 50th birthday, and then every three years until they rea…

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