iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 01/10/2026

#WIPSnips | injury vibes ✨ Lennie taking care of her dear Micah 😭❤️‍🩹 From my post-apocalyptic WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: The fever heat rolled off him in waves.

“You doin’ okay?” she asked, pressing the back of her hand against his cheeks, his forehead. Hotter than blue blazes.

“I’m fine.”

“Alright.” She dipped a rag in the bucket and squeezed out the excess water. “Except you were quotin’ scripture in your sleep, and…I feel like that ain't a good sign.” She paused as she laid the cloth on his brow, thoughtful. “Something about trials and treblations.”

“Tribulations.”

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“Hmm.” He watched her as she adjusted the corners of the rag, pushed back his hair, fingers lingering in the tangles. “Matthew 24:21,” he said. “Or James 1:12.”

She met his eye, sat back. “I thought you didn't believe in all that.”

“I don't.”

“Then how come you remember it so well?”

“I told you my pa made us quote scripture. It was that or meet his fists.” He grimaced as he shifted beneath the blankets. “I chose the lesser of the two’n all.”

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Eliwood S(pooky) Ghost @eliwoodsgheist.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

I had to retake this video a few times because of background noise and now I need to go lie down Thank you to Kay for this review! #booksky #bookreviews #indiewriter

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Jeff VanderMeer @jeffvandermeer.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

Also, AI creates cognitive decline, so fuck that.

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Sage T. Greene, Author @sagetgreene.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

Enjoy spooky season, folks! Dropping in before all the fun new October games begin tomorrow to give you advance notice that #Novmemeber will be back again this year. There'll be a mix of returning prompts (with new memes!) and some fun new stuff. I'll ping y'all again at the end of the month! xo👻

The prompt list for #Novmemeber 2026, but the prompts have been obscured by a spooky fog until the event gets closer. For now, a skeleton is sitting on a bench and "PATIENTLY WAITING."

#Novmemeber
Hosted by @sagetgreene.bsky.social

The corners of the graphic have colorful fall leaves (red, orange, yellow) and a silly face emoji with tongue sticking out.

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Aud Connelly: transcribing #Dogwood3 (73.3/95k) @audconnelly.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Switching back to #Dogwood1 for October and November to celebrate the preorder link going live!!😚 Here's a #WIPsnips with a hint of plot...

As she stepped through the open gate, the wind changed, becoming more like whispers, swirling and clawing at the seams of her clothing. Barely breathing, she crept along, following the tunnel to its end, where she found an old-fashioned wishing well, complete with crank, pulleys, and ropes. She swung her flashlight left and right, but there was—nothing. No underground laboratory, no classified weather tech-nology to explain the endless winter gripping this pocket of the forest, and nothing at all pertaining to the Stupendous Dogwoods’ bioluminescence and year-round blooming, that so-called miracle of selective breeding and genetic mutations her parents had been willing to risk everything to uncover. There were only the petals, blowing around on the icy wind amidst flurries of snow.

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🫜Prof Emily🫜 @professoremily.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Hey everyone! This October I'm hosting #Conlangity, a game about fictional languages! The goal is to help total newbies craft a conlang that is realistic & usable! It will hopefully be accessible to non-linguist people, but it won't be for the faint of heart. Prepare for a challenge! MORE INFO👇🧵

Prompt list for #Conlangity, a game for building a fictional language! Hosted by @professoremily.bsky.social. Light yellow text printed in two columns over an orange background showing a faint photo of a large open dictionary.

1. CULTURE: Name & speakers of your language
2. SOUNDS: Basic sounds or units of speech
3. SOUNDS: Rare/never used sounds
4. SOUNDS: Rules of pronunciation, emphasis & tone
5. CULTURE: How did your language develop & what is it for?
6. VOCAB: greetings/farewells

7. GRAMMAR: Word order
8. GRAMMAR: Compound words, prefixes & suffixes
9. GRAMMAR: Noun modification (number, case, gender, articles)
10. VOCAB: Words/phrases about relationships

11. GRAMMAR: Pronouns
12. GRAMMAR: Descriptive words
13. VOCAB: Words/phrases about location and direction

14. GRAMMAR: Verbs
15. GRAMMAR: Verb conjugation & other variations
16. GRAMMAR: Verbals (infinitives, gerunds, participles)
17. VOCAB: Words/phrases about time

18. GRAMMAR: Prep-/Postpositions
19. GRAMMAR: Negations & Comparisons
20. VOCAB: Words for numbers

21. GRAMMAR: Subordinate Clauses
22. GRAMMAR: Asking questions, giving commands, speaking in hypotheticals
23. VOCAB: Words/phrases about food & drinks

24. GRAMMAR: Common abbreviations & mutations
25. VOCAB: Common slang, idioms, cursing
26. VOCAB: Words/phrases about animals and plants

27. VOCAB: Words or phrases that a tourist would need to know
28. CULTURE: A word with an interesting etymology
29. CULTURE: Writing system

30. VOCAB CHALLENGE: Translate song lyrics into your language
31. FREE DAY: Something that wasn’t covered/how you plan to use the language in your work?

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Look what arrived in the mail todayyyy 😁 @professoremily.bsky.social It's so pretty! 😍 And let me tell you, the *inside* is exquisite too. Check details below to get your copy! 💜 #WritingCommunity #BookSky #WriteSky #books

"The Gods of Atalantis" book propped up on a table, by Emily Klotz. Gorgeous gold-and-blue cover with main characters Mireia, the Sea Mother, and Kena, the Sun Father, nestled, sleeping. Illustrated by @professoremily.bsky.social.

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M. Clark @mcwrites27.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

The #WIPSnip Word of the Day is 'nation' - I went with 'national' here since I had limited options. This scene reveals Katie's thoughts at a vigil for the missing and presumed dead. There's a lot of guilt in being a survivor. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

The WIP Snip word of the day is 'nation' - the following is an excerpt from my novel WIP Canary featuring a related form of the word of the day - Echoing announcements came over the sound system calling fans to the stands. They were going to open the game with the national anthem, alma mater song, and a candle lighting ceremony where the life of Logan (Surname) would be honored. It felt weird that they were ignoring the others. As if their bodies being absent was enough to pleasantly float the foolish idea that they'd come home.

Optimism had always felt like self sabotage. I'd had so many wonderful things ripped out of my hands or from under my feet that I'd learned to cautiously walk around in life, anticipating the next horrible shock. As much as I tried fighting that instinct, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of dread whenever I looked at those missing posters. They felt living the way a memory does, not a moment. I knew they weren't coming home.

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Ross McDermott @beyondtheonions.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

#WIPSnips #nation #writing #amwriting #SciFi #dystopian #adventure #wip Spiral Eyes (working title) *the histories and the mysteries of the last world war...

The Arbitrarians had raided this small, blue planet what seemed now eons ago, back when the moon was a battlefield for all nations and the scene of our world’s last war. It was that lunar conflict that had led to our proverbial last stand against the much more advanced raiding horde that war had awakened.
We had, for all intents and purposes, traded one war for another. But those histories were now mysteries for most, though a few of the aged ones, Mariner among them, thought them to rest on the foundation of truth.
He recalled his mother explaining how their downfall progressed at a gradual pace. With the acceptance of defeat, and as the greed of people tends to do, they gradually came to welcome the Arbitrarians, almost as gods.
We surrender ourselves to only our memories, though wise men warned nostalgia was not an option if a revolt was ever to succeed. Too many among us wished things could be the way they were. Cowering amidst the ruins, they bowed to the Arbitrarians, unable translate their thoughts into actions.
“We bowed to their demands, subtle suggestions at first, that slowly slipped to mandatory commands with which we were left with no choice but to follow, as our world had slipped to become their human zoo.” Mariner recalled his mother’s oft-spoken words and most of her stories with clarity, even after her passing and the many years he now watched slip into “Pastime,” as so were those days suitably called by the Rubblers of L’undonetown
“Though that war had lasted decades, in the end, it is said, we fell to the force of the Arbitrarians almost immediately when their mother ship had emerged from the depths of a hole on the dark side of the moon.” The scene of his father’s demise, the hole called Finigan’s Crater.
“They came for our sun,” his mother had told him.

excerpt from wip Spiral Eyes
by Ross McDermott

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Eliwood S(pooky) Ghost @eliwoodsgheist.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Happy #WIPSnips 25 - (Hiber)nation! I don't have any nation by itself 😅 at least in this snip, Edie is heading into a nation of sorts 👀

The air thrummed with power. In the summer, the woods were alive with insects and birds and growing plants, and the vibrancy was palpable. Now, the trees were halfway to hibernation, but she could still feel the buzz of latent energy all around. Edie almost expected the trees to burst into bloom, but the birches just kept watch with their scarred eyes.
Eyes that now followed them.

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Margery Bayne is querying @margerybayne.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

My #scifi novel doesn't really use the word nation, but here's something civic-themed I think fits the prompt. Yay, scifi worldbuilding. #WIPSnips #AmQuerying #WritingPrompt #Worldbuilding

The development of Elios from scientific outpost to civilian settlement to sprawling city-state had been slow until it had been fast. Science was painfully sluggish when you were desperate for a cure, and humanity was desperate for the biggest one of all: finding new homes. Galaxies of nomads searched and were searching for a rock to plant their feet on, and when an outpost proved viable — the temperatures survivable, the atmosphere changeable, the ground growable — the settlers came flooding. After the settlers came the boom.

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A.B. Koga @abkoga.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Getting 🫦 about the journey ahead. From Heavenvault—an airship romantasy.

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

#WIPSnips | nation Heyyy, I have this one without needing vibes ✨😅. Lennie and Micah reflect on the absence of the rapture at the end of the world… From my post-apocalyptic WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: “Mama believed in all that. The Second Coming. Said it was all prophesied, that all we had to do was wait, and we'd ascend into Heaven, right along with the rest of ‘em. The good ones.”

“You believe that crock?”

“No,” she said, poking at the dying embers. The logs settled and crackled, sending little sparks lifting into the sky. “If I ever did, I knew waiting alongside her that she weren't no chosen one.” She sighed. “And that means I ain't either.”

Micah nestled up against the tree, cradling the back of his head as he gazed at the night sky. The moonlight caught in his eyes, casting a silver-white glow to them.

“‘And there will be signs in sun and moon and stars,’” he said softly, “‘and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity because of the roaring of the sea and the waves.’”

Lennie stared at him as the logs popped. “That might be the most words I ever heard you say. Big ones too.”

He shrugged. “My pa made us quote scripture.”

“So what do you believe?”

He glanced at her, then back at the stars. “I believe your ma was right on one thing.”

“What's that?”

He closed his eyes and settled into the dirt. “That you're one of the good ones, Lennie.”

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Headless🎃Horsewoman🪉💎🏹🐴⚔️ @acturek.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #meddle -> interfere Ra’am Chalmalch ordered Lord Shelwon to disengage & retreat in the midst of a battle. One troop is left trapped. POV Shelwon’s herald, Jedhrath - Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power

He never stopped blowing his horn. The
sound of the warriors cries floated up to him,
desperate and angry. They tried to turn and flee back up the hill, but were hemmed in the deep snow, forced to fight. Their cries and the squeals of the horses made a cacophony of bloody death that resonated like pain in the Shining One's eyes, until, driven by desperation, Lord Shelwon raised the
Shammeth-stone.

"No!" Ra'am Chalmalch thundered.

"I weary of your INTERFERENCE!"

Watching them, Jedhrath clenched his fist.

"You know not what you are fighting! This is
not the time!"

Lord Shelwon's eyes blazed bright with rage.
"Three hundred lives wasted! How are you going to explain to the Edin, to their families?" The Ra'am did not answer, only stared at his protége with eyes of cold fire. The Sheltri were surrounded. The cries of
the dying wrung Jedhrath's heart.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Sab is making FINAL EDITS ✨ @sabrinamars.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

#WIPSnips M E D D L E ✨ Ezra POV is always so insightful 🙃 #Wip #writesky #writingcommunity

A floating lantern festival at night with the following text overlayed: Do you have no decency?” Ezra seethed, finally getting Riodin's attention. “I understand you had a precarious upbringing, Hawthorne, and etiquette might not be suitable for you, but you have no business being in the Idol’s room this late. Even her guard does not go in.”
The guard standing at the door shifted slightly at the mention of his presence but said nothing. Riodin, however, responded indignantly, “You have absolutely no idea what’s going on with her, do you?”
Ezra turned up his nose at him. “What are you talking about? I am her Guardian. She is my responsibility. I certainly don’t need you, of all people, to be meddling.”
“I’m only ‘meddling’ because you’re too much of a jackass to see how scared she still is to be here,” Riodin growled.
“She will adjust,” Ezra insisted. “She has no choice. She’s the Idol.”
Riodin had the nerve to glare back. “She is so much more than that.”

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Samantha Breaux is looking for ARC readers @woodenvelt.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

Wren and Spencer summon a melodramatic ghost. Sharing a snip today from my romantic fantasy series about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold. If you enjoy this snip, You can sign up to ARC read at the link below: #WIPSnips #Booksky #Wrencer docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1F...

The silence dragged against Wren, oddly heavy, as if the dry fog blanketing the floor was muffling the sounds around them. The duke, deprived of the reaction he expected, lowered his chin and blinked his sapphire blue eyes. Var Dunnis had been a handsome man in life, the sort of pale, pretty lord women tended to swoon over. If the rumors were to be believed, several of them had swooned onto their backs for him. His cobalt gaze swept over the room, gliding past Spencer to snag on Wren. The shade swept towards her through the mist, going to a knee at her feet.
“If love has prodded you to meddle in dark arts milady, I will forgive you, but you must be wary. Your trespass could wake other beasts who are not so gentle as myself.”
He bowed over her hand, intending to kiss it, but the shade’s fingers passed through Wren’s, leaving behind an icy prickle. Wide-eyed, she shot Spencer another look, jerking her chin towards the uncomfortably attentive ghost. Wren knew what to do with handsy nobles who were living, but dead ones were something else entirely. Fortunately, the good brother seemed to have regained his composure.
Shoulders stiff and brows knotted in an angry scowl, Spencer spoke. “Duke Var Dunnis.” His voice echoed in the oppressive air, laced with power. The shade snapped his head towards Spencer as if pulled by an invisible string. “I am Brother Thorne, anointed of the Gray Lady. I have Called you in the Lady’s name to aid us in Her endeavors.”

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Robin Herbert @peterrobin.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

#WIPSnips September 24 "meddle" From the short story, Super Snipe. Eddie meddles with the justice process. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

I first became acquainted with Eddie on account of my having accidentally seen him kill someone and having an appointment to testify against him at his murder trial. Eddie, out on bail, was anxious to affect an introduction but under the circumstances I did not reciprocate his sociable instincts with any great warmth or enthusiasm. Still, his persistence paid off and we came to an amicable arrangement whereby I would be a very unimpressive witness and he wouldn't kill me.

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Nicole "Ashrah" Hidalgo 😈🧄👻 @sayaashrah.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

#WIPSnips 24. "Meddle" Angry Ashrah is scary. Angry Ashrah with psychic magic is... something else 🙃 #ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters

“What are you doing?! He’s—”

Ashrah shoved the concubus to the ground and turned to the mortal, left arm raised.

Smoke crumpled to his knees, hands reaching for his neck as he tried, in vain, to loosen the invisible rope around it. “You dare tell me what to do? You dare defy my will?” He reached out to her. Ashrah curled her fingers, squeezing tighter, denting the fragile skin around his throat. Choking, his face a deep shade of red, he would have fallen had Ashrah not upheld him with her mind and forced him not to lose sight of her as she delivered the punishment. “Nothing will keep me from my ascension. No Archdevil, no fiend, and least of all a meddling mortal!”

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Lavinia Thompson @laviniathompson.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

We are running on vibes this week. Inger is a corrupt agent giving "these meddling kids" vibes with this scene. And our MC, Emily, isn't having it. #WIPSnips #booksky

An excerpt from a book called "Beyond Cover 1: Diamond Gamble" by Lavinia Thompson

“We’re all rogue, sweetheart,” Jeff said. “Some of us are just better at it. This is your warning. Back off or else —”
“Or else what? You’re going to kill me?” Emily snapped. “You’re only the second person to threaten that today, Inger. I’m surrounded by men much scarier than you all the time. You might be rogue, but you’re a coward.”
He shoved the gun into her stomach.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. This is your last warning. Back. Off. You want these?” he said, shaking the bag. “You need to back off. You get the diamonds, and maybe I tell Dean it’s time to pull you out of this.”

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

This is absolutely worth a read if you're considering hosting a prompt game. Let's just say I was *unprepared* for the amount of time it took me to respond thoughtfully during #SummerOfStories 😅. Good recs on notifs & how to meaningfully engage while keeping your sanity! 💜 #WritingCommunity

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🫜Prof Emily🫜 @professoremily.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

Exciting news everyone... IT'S HERE!! 🥳 Took way too long, but #GodsOfAtalantis (book 1) is now available to buy as a physical book! 2 kids get chosen as the new gods. Sparks fly. Crystals go boom. If you like stuff like ATLA or FMA:B, this is for you 😁❤️ www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-gods-o...

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Flygohr 🎨🎲✒️ @flygohr.com · 14/09/2026

Short timelapse of the commission I made for @khonri.com 👇🏻 I'm looking for new clients, too 🙋🏻‍♂️ Bills are piling up again and I have a few important deadlines coming up soon. I need help boosting this 🔄 #artcommission | #artsky | #ocart

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

#WIPSnips | distracted vibes ✨ You take your eyes off this kid for ooone second and... 👀 From my post-apocalyptic WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: The men were setting up on the side of the road.

“Get down,” Lennie muttered, pulling Micah under the cover of the brush. She reached out to do the same to the boy, but her hand came back empty. “Where's the kid?” she asked, releasing Micah’s tightly clutched shirt from her fist.

He had the grace to look guilty for a passing second before his face slipped back to neutral. “I don't know.” He spat and adjusted his shirt. “Why aren’t you lookin’ after him? He ain't my responsibility.”

“Nobody's anybody's responsibility,” she hissed. The wind picked up, and she crouched lower as their cover shifted. “Doesn't mean you get to be an ass about it.”

He glanced at her, then out at the road and cursed.

“What?”

He tilted his head.

And there was the kid, walking out in the middle of the road toward the men, arms held aloft, spread wide on either side of him. Like Christ to the Crucifixion, Lennie thought. What the hell was he doing?

Micah started to rise, but Lennie grabbed him, pulling him down again. “You go out there, you're dead and you know it.”

“We're just gonna leave him?”

“Course not.” She bit her lip, thinking. The men were still now, watching the approaching boy, their eyes wide and heavy, centering on him like hungry wolves.

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V. S. Holmes @vsholmes.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

The 9/12 word for #WIPSnips is "wedge" which I had to hunt through all three current WIPs to find! So, from my winter island murder wives: #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #booksky #gothic #fantasy

An excerpt written in black on white, with the word "wedged" highlighted in grey, reads:

She races along the strand, feet aching with every blow upon the rounded stones. Up the winding trail, past the washed-out mouth to the lighthouse, through the snarl of winter-naked branches and to the station, wedged as it is in the throat of the harbor. It is only when she sees the stretched shadow of Markus that she stops.
He glowers down at her from the landing. “Where have you been?”
She doesn’t have an answer, and wavers on her battered feet.
He blinks and looks down at them, resolve faltering just a bit at the sight of her stone-torn soles. “Where is Billie?”
There is an answer she could give to that one, but it isn’t one he wants.

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Samantha Breaux is looking for ARC readers @woodenvelt.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

Spencer's goddess sends him into battle. From book 2 of my romantic fantasy wip about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #Wrencer

Rain water, cool and clean, splashed over Spencer, drenching his head and shoulders. It felt like a rebirth, like being dunked head first under the silvery surface of the Grey Lady’s waters. Anger, cold and patient and vast beyond measure crackled in his chest, numbing him with its stinging certainty.

The Lady’s icy indignation bumped up against the buzzing rage of the Fains gathered in a loose wedge around Spencer. It was an awkward jumble of sensations that made his vision fuzz at the edges while he tried to gain his bearings. Somewhere far beneath the churning layers of outrage, a trickle of doubt threaded through Spencer’s heart. Worry for Wren and Bruce and Molly, left behind with a band of murderers and criminals at their backs, struggled against the angry tide.

Then Spencer felt a cool caress like silk against his cheek, heard the impossibly dry rustle of feathers in a rainstorm, and the doubts disappeared, drowned by the icy certainty of divine purpose.

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CG Stewart 🖋️ 🫜 @nightoffallengods.com · 12/09/2026

#WIPSnips For today we have the small town of Riverbridge, a ferry town on the banks of the White River, to feature in this prompt. Bonus doodles of the town one of my beta readers left in the margins of their copy. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt

"Okay." It remained hard to tell from Mary's manner what she herself thought of the situation. The Sister turned to look out her window, so Reka let the matter go and did the same.
Riverbridge was set into a wide, bowl-shaped rise on the bank of the White River, gently sloping down to the water's edge.
Because of this, many of the buildings were either built on wedges of poured stone, or lifted up on stilts on one side with the other side built into the earth behind it. There was one main road in or out, four wagons wide, paved with large river stones. Smaller streets arched around the contours of the rise, and from what Reka could see from the windows each building had a door on either side, one at street level and another at the top of a small flight of stairs that lead to the level below. It all gave the town a stair step appearance that she found delightful.
The main road led into what she assumed was the town square, though this was more of a large half circle, running all the way to the docks reaching out into the water. Most of the ferries were docked at this side of the river, bobbing gently in the current, while on the other she could just barely make out more buildings surrounding a space mirroring this one. A statue of Integris stood on either side of the road, marking this also as the town market. Stalls littered the square in clumps of three or four, and a few folk going about their shopping paused to watch or wave as they passed.
They stopped on the far edge of the market, at the base of a building on stilts taller than Arlo could stand in the driver's bench. As Reka exited the carriage a woman of middling years came down the last of the steps and beneath a sign that read
"The High Water Line"

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Nora Shear @norashear.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

Only 1 instance of today's #WIPSnips word, & it's a little late in the book, but it's a haunting moment so I think it's worth sharing. After a narrow escape from the evil secret society, along with some awful revelations, it's just too much for Paige. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

A dark image with white text that reads

"Very wise," Leo replied. "But please take some deep breaths for me, okay?"
"Leo, I..."
As Paige tried to take a breath, her face seemed to crumple in on itself. Abruptly, she threw herself back into his arms, burying her face into his chest while she wedged a fist into her mouth and screamed, loud enough to be heard by anyone within a quarter mile.
A cemetery is the right place for it, at least.
"Go ahead, let it out," he responded, rubbing her back. "Just let it out."
The sound of her scream was more than just sorrow, more than just grief. Something old, something haunted, lived underneath it. Leo recognized it. He'd had that kind of howl himself, once upon a time.
That man has hurt Paige before. He's hurt her badly.

- From NO SKY LIKE MIDNIGHT, by Nora Shear

There are star decorations in each corner and a meteor decoration above the text.

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Indie Book Spotlight @bookspotlight.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

I’m shocked. Shocked, I say. By this completely predictable and obvious information.

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C. Lockheart @lockheartfiction.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

#WIPSnips CW: mentions of blood and death Ferris showcases how thralls are made. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

In a strange gentleness, Ferris guided the man to the floor. Soon the rise and fall of his chest ceased with one final shudder. Why were they parading this? Ferris was intentionally showing Rollan something. Rollan’s eyes drifted toward the knife. Ferris glanced his way as if to egg Rollan on. To do what? Rollan didn’t have time to figure it out.
Removing one glove, and with a quick prick of the tip of the blade, Ferris squeezed out some of his blood. A few drops of virus-tainted blood formed on the tip of his finger. He painted it near the wound his teeth had created in the man’s neck.
Just as when life had left the man, it returned. His chest rose and fell, picking up speed as if he was hyperventilating. Guttural growling rippled from deep in his chest. The thrall thrashed around, creating a chaotic painting on the floor in its own blood until its bonds snapped. On all fours, it turned on Ferris. Ferris didn’t flinch as the creature’s mouth latched onto him. Its eyes, despite the dryness of the orbs and a thousand-yard stare, were untransformed.
Emotionless, Ferris took some more of the blood from his finger and placed it under the snarling lips of the creature. As if it suddenly became aware of who its master was, it released its grasp. It stepped back and faced Ferris with a lifeless and tamed expression.

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The Doctor (Commissions open) @lucidillusions.in · 10/09/2026

A #WIP that needs polishing for today's #WIPSnips: “Teeth” A weird sci-fi x body horror story that needs to find itself a home. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

They calibrated the machine for weeks with milk teeth and adult teeth, with teeth from cadavers and teeth from living donors. They mapped the way teeth encoded age and found a pattern that was elegant and terrible.

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honeybea @writing-bea.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Carvings tell the story of the history of Corvus, in all its morbid detail. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Writing

This carving held far less care than the rest, and yet showed the signs of dozens of hands. Against the side of the mountain, the Nestling’s home and sanctuary stood, half finished and unprepared for what was brought to it. Cut in notched, messy detail, Beasts climbed that blurred the line between reality and embodiments of the fear surrounding them. Looking at it, the rendered brutality of robed women and snarling beasts tearing each other apart, the smell of metal filled Tess’s nose and sullied her tongue.
Her own encounters with the creatures, cunning with some preordained hatred that made her blood go cold, were all just shadows of what they used to be. Steps that left craters. Teeth that gnashed through stone and steel. Blood that bubbled and burned in vengeance for those that spilled it.
So the stories went. It would have been unbelievable if Tess hadn’t seen the ruined bastions in Mordol herself.

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Dr. Omega 🦞 @theomegageek.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

It takes a certain kind of friend to drag you home through the pouring rain and keep you alive once you get there. #WIPSnips

Text reads: She’d say no more despite Grace’s questions and pleading, so they returned to their march. The clock on the mantle was just chiming eleven by the time they made it through the door, sopping wet and freezing cold. Immediately, Grace shed her coat and dress, leaving these in a sodden heap on the floor and ran over to light the stove in only her chemise. Kat stood in place, dripping. The fire came next, Grace’s hands shaking and numb as she tried over and over to spark the kindling, which finally caught. Through all this, Kat was just a ghost in a body, her eyes distant. She didn’t even respond when Grace moved her over to stand before the fire, stripping her down to her underclothes.
“Here,” she said through chattering teeth, “sit down. It’ll be warm soon.”

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💀🫜 Charlie (Chelizabeth) Delta 🦊👻 @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

September 10th – teeth Nik might be T’orrin’s bodyguard at the moment, but she might also be open to a better offer. #DawnsBlood #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

T’orrin flinched as if he’d been struck. “I am not my brother, and this…”
“Hush boy. If you shut your mouth and eat your meal, you will probably survive until the ransom comes. This has nothing to do with you.”
“But I…”
D’orril turned the knife in his hand and plunged it forcefully into a hunk of meat, spearing it to the wooden table. T’orrin wisely fell silent.
“As I was saying.” The bandit pulled the knife from the table and took a bite of the morsel. “Why shouldn’t we use our skills? Why shouldn’t we have a taste of the good life?”
“Just a taste?” Nik sat next to him on the bench, brushing his arm as she did. “Why should I risk what I already have, for just a taste?”
“You are hoping for more?”
“I always want more.”
“I don’t know,” he smiled, grabbing a grape from the table, “there is a lot I’d risk for just a taste.”
Before he could eat, Nik reached over and plucked it from his hand. “Prove it.”
She placed the grape gingerly between her teeth and turned back to him, a saucy smile on her face.

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Sad Monster @dyre.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Don't you tell me teeth, #WIPSnips, you know how many times I write about teeth? This one's from #WakeandGlaer

In the shadowed mirror of the Wake, forgotten beasts keened in silent agony, slithering through waters without weight for ages without meaning. Directionless, feckless, lost and empty, their existence was one of eternal dark and eternal sorrow for lives half-remembered and never mourned.
Until, breaking a surface none could hope to breach, came flashes of light. Of eyes and teeth... carrying the impossible. Burning within writhing tendrils of an emptiness even their most colossal could not claim it shone.
Bright as the Heart itself. Bright and hot and singing.
Too delectable the melody, too sweet the beacon and one after the next the forgotten beasts swam for it. Slithered for it. For them.
Clawed and gnawed and bit into their wisping flesh with long-dead teeth for a lick. A taste. A single gasp of the Breath bursting so loud and full falling from a nascent sky.
The shadows gnashed back.
They gnawed deep and starving, refusing to loose their captive, to share their treasure. Still the beasts bit and clawed and rammed with every slip of forms so fleeting. Eager to taste, to know and remember—if but a beat, a single beat—the spark and thrill of life.

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Julie March @juliemarchbooks.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

#WIPSnips Leecie has awakened with one wrist tied to a bed (thanks to Oscar, who thinks she's been brainwashed), which is her worst nightmare (fair). At least there's a giant shadow person in there?

Behind me, someone snorted awake.

God, I wasn’t alone.

I pulled at the knot on my wrist, brought it up to my teeth and gnawed. A scream built in my throat, ready to be unleashed.

The shadow of the person I’d awakened crossed in front of the lamp. Carpet muffled their approaching footsteps, but not entirely. They sat at the foot of the bed; the mattress sank as though to catch me in their gravitational pull.

I forced myself to turn. Their face was dark against the lantern light. Featureless.

One hand extended to me. I shrank from it.

“Hey, you’re okay.”

Bolton.

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

#WIPSnips | teeth Opening lines... 😬 From my post-apocalyptic WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: People carry their worry in different places, and Lennie had learned to look for it from a young age; once you knew where someone's worry lived, it was easier to stay out of their way.

For some, it was in the hunch of the back, the set of the shoulders. The clench of a fist.

Other times, you had to listen for it. The grind of teeth or the crack of a neck.

Her mother carried it in her forehead, and tonight it was setting up residence like something that would need to be evicted.

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Hook & Quill Press @hookandquillpress.com · 08/09/2026

We're looking for #ARCreaders for @woodenvelt.bsky.social 's Thief of Death! A fun romantasy following a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold, with rich worldbuilding and a delightful cast of characters. Sign up here! forms.gle/rY9zMRSo1uNN... #writingcommunity #booksky

a background of skulls and bones, overlaid with the text Hook & Quill Press is looking for ARC readers for Thief of Death

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Kayleigh 🫜 @kaydwrites.bsky.social · 08/09/2026

#WIPSnips | mental = mind ✨ (Lennie's mind playing tricks on her in the dark.) Also, sigh…new account bc of educational politics, but it is I, creator of weird post-apoc children 😅. Add me if you know me 😭♥️ From my post-apocalyptic WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

Writing snippet: Lennie got to her knees—waited a moment, watching—but her mother didn't budge, so she went out to the porch and into the rain.

It coated her like freshly washed sheets, warm off the line; she stood with her back to the house, soaking it in, before twisting sharply in the direction of the porch to stare the darkness down.

“C’mon,” she muttered to the shadows. “Go on. Here I am. Do it. I dare you.”

And then a click from behind her.

She whipped around, and the pale figure stood, rising slowly out of the long grass, jar in hand.

Only, the creature’s head barely cleared the top of the stalks, and when the lightning struck again, those deep scars in its face were more like scratches traced along delicate skin, and she realized it wasn't some wraith out of her nightmares, it was just… a kid.

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