WBDaddy

"The Weird Scholarship" - and yes, it was also posted here. I can confirm, however, that WriteandLeft has left the forum, because they approached me in a DM about taking over their unfinished stories. I declined because I'm already struggling with my creative output, no need to take on more projects to try and find headspace for.

Sounds like something a therapist would say. Definitely not a famous quote.

Yes, but most of them don't know this. And even if they did, they likely would find home life untenable during that time frame. All that said, it would probably make for good storytelling for Oliver to try and resist in this next frame and for Sophie to remind him of this ancient tenet about "my house, my rules".

When one is over the age of 18, there is an implied agreement between parent and child that, in return for being allowed to continue living at the parent's home, the child must continue to obey directions. At least there is here in the US. "My home, my rules. If you want to make your own rules, get your own home."

I've actually posted my availability for editing services on the commissions thread. As long as it doesn't become a proofreading chore, I work fairly cheap.

With her little sister scowling at her from outside the makeshift crib, obviously and deliberately wetting her own diaper. Because that neatly closes the circle back to the introduction (regretting it ever since).

Thank you, I'm very flattered. Let me dig around in my own archives. I've got a thumb drive that's AWOL at the moment, which is a little terrifying, but I'll see if I can find it. I'm pretty sure if I did I chopped the ending off, because I was really, really unhappy with how far that went beyond where I intended to stop.

Yes, I posted here under the title "Don't Dabble With Forces You Don't Understand." Had to have been around 2014-2015 that I completed it. (edit) I literally just combed through the entirety of my posting history here, and it appears that nearly all of the stories I posted on this site including that one got nuked in the great server crash a while back. Only a tiny handful of stuff I wrote pre-2014 remains - a few short stories, and a couple of incomplete pieces from way the hell back before the big underage character panic of 2011. So if someone managed to scrape that one when ABDLsf went under, then you might be in luck.

Most of what people remember me for was posted 15 to 20 years ago too. I kinda consider you a peer in this space as much as a monument because of that.

I still love this line. As I review the story itself, and I do sincerely hope you're not one to be overly sensitive to criticism, because what I'm going to say is sincere, honest, and not at all mean-spirited... It really feels like a weird combination of my own writing circa 2008-2010, when I was incredibly flowery with my language because I was still in the mindset of a poet rather than a writer, and Teekabell, who was (is? I haven't seen anything from them in a long time) a legend in their own right. Because I feel the simile. I'm constantly struck by it. Like, "Why the fuck didn't I ever think of that analogy?" kind of struck. But I also feel the intense repetition of theme. There's a banging away, like the hammer of some ancient Balinese temple bell, of "enough" and "showing up" and other concepts that feel, if I were to psychoanalyze this more than I necessarily wanted to, like a component of the wish fulfillment aspect of the story - of being accepted for wanting to wear diapers and girlschool uniforms. The premise, on its face, is absurd. The only way for this poor boy to graduate from high school is to spend 12 weeks in a girls' school? And that girls' school decides that he should wear standard uniform, no adaptations for the fact that he's not actually a girl? Oh, and they have no male staff in the building nor even any gender neutral restrooms on campus (pain in the ass on nights like the ballet recital we've all been anticipating for a while now, when all the parents are in attendance), so he has to wear diapers? Oh, and there was not a single, solitary mention of him having to void his bowels in all of this - don't get me wrong, I'm wildly averse to writing about anything remotely scat-related, so I get it, but that's still a huge moment in someone's life, having no choice but to shit their pants after 16 years of doing so on a toilet. And no one else even raising an eyebrow about changing them in that state. If nothing else, there would be Dylan begging to be excused from class because he didn't want to shit himself *during* class, and certainly wanting to be changed *immediately* after. But all in all, I commend you on the plot, because despite all of the above flaws, it's still oddly compelling. It's still a coming-of-age story that I want to keep reading, even if Dylan's psychological hangups don't really trace back to his home environment, though I did notice a lack of a Dad there. You've successfully pushed the girlschool uniform component almost completely into the background of something much deeper, and I see you trying in that respect. There's a bit of a deus ex machina component to how all of the topics in his classes seem to literally be about him, but hey, I've felt seen by teachers and professors in my life, and I've also raised an eyebrow at how syllabi seemed to bend towards things that hit me personally too. Don't stop. But definitely do try a little harder with the editing, because I noticed some inconsistencies even after you addressed the previous poster's concerns about them. What was especially jolting was the going from Thursday on one chapter back to Wednesday on the next.

As someone who is finally writing again after a nearly decade absence from it, I'll tell you this: 1) I opened up for commissions. The first one was a spectacular failure, but I did write some, and it felt good to write again, even if, as I so often have in the past, I failed to finish it. The second one? There's been delay, but because it's pay-as-you-go, the commissioner has been patient with me as I go through dry spells, and I've been patient with them as sudden bursts happen that they weren't expecting and weren't ready to pay immediately for. Sometimes inspiration has to come from outside your head, just make sure you're vibing with the concept they want to see before you take it. 2) Even though I literally just said it, I've started forgiving myself for not completing stories. It's not failure, it's just something I ran out of gas on, and I need to go refill my tank elsewhere before I can come back to it. I've started thinking about some of my absolute oldest unfinished works here lately, as I've had random inspirations from stuff I've seen here and elsewhere. 3) To that point, I have a sketchbook folder in my Google docs, and I use it. Some random scene, idea, concept, even half a story, and I keep them all. Even if they're crap. Because sometimes one of them leads to a light bulb going off. One piece I finished last year, I was completely at a loss for the ending until I was doodling around with other ideas and it kinda hit me square in the face, the obvious solution to the puzzle. And that was that - I had my ending, and it felt like a devil falling off my back, honestly. One that kept screaming "YOU NEVER FINISH ANYTHING BECAUSE YOU SUCK AT WRITING!" So, there's my thoughts. Or maybe my group therapy session sharing moment. Something.

This is AI? This right here, this is... poetic.

I swear, you're channeling Personalias in this one. And that is, I assure you, high praise. It's delightfully disjointed, more than a little silly, and devoid of any sense of where the hell it's going, and I love all those attributes.

Worst part about that is, the USG is spending vastly larger amounts of money annually and not collecting near enough taxes to pay for it. Just not on health care or other social services. Our defense spending is 5x higher than the next closest competitor. Our spending on law enforcement and other related categories (such as border control) rivals the per capita spending (and likely exceeds the raw numbers) of a number of bona fide dictatorships. And our grandkids are definitely gonna pay later, one way or another, for it.

Most kids in a situation similar to this aren't aware of that though, and even if they were given a 30-day notice, they'd still be terrified of the ramifications of having to find a job, a place to live, and transportation in less than a month.