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Jan Karlsson

@jangoeswriting.bsky.social

2.3K followers 1.4K following 5.2K posts

Watty Award winner 2021, 6x shortlisted. Ambys Award winner 2024 & 2x 2023. 4x ONC Award shortlisted. Writer (🤔). (No DM’s. I’m too damned old to be verifying my damned age!)

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Jan Karlsson @jangoeswriting.bsky.social · Oct 18

Here are the links to all my writing profiles.
I like to think there’s something for everybody here, in most genres.

Take a look!

Wattpad: www.wattpad.com/user/JanGoes...

Jan Karlsson (@JanGoesWriting) - Wattpad

[Wattys 2021 Winner, Sci-Fi Category - "Foston Slacks - Time's Flies"] [Wattys 2024 Shortlist - "Foston Slacks - Good's Intentions"] [Watty...

www.wattpad.com

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Whispers @whispers615.bsky.social · 3h

I won’t rain on your parade
But if I have to, we will wear raincoats
and I’ll offer you my umbrella
so we can dance, stay dry
and not be afraid

#vss365 #poetry #raincoat

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Kymaero @kymaero.bsky.social · 4h

Only the front hallway is lit, a white umbrella unfurled, wetness pooling beneath it. Black boots drip from the rack into the tray below. A form sheds its skin, a thin #raincoat, and hangs it on the hat stand. Then turns to face the night inside. #vss365

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 5h

Vetting each drip
Not one drop will dare slip
through a fabric so fine
that the rain there in Spain will not pass the divine
the non-infiltration of water
with a scientifically developed polymer that provides no quarter
my raincoat from Sears
after all of these years

#vss365

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T. M. Shannon 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ (he/him) @tmshannonauthor.com · 5h

My #raincoat kept me dry, while my boots sloshed in the puddles

It was the twentieth day of rain, the onslaught natural, already too many drowned in the floods and swept off the shore

With no ark to huddle in, all I could do was bear it and move on

#vss365
#WritingCommunity
#ReaderSky
#BookSky

TheDevilsTuna @thedevilstuna.bsky.social · 22h

We head into the final few stops on our musical mystery tour, it's day 11 just 4 more days to enjoy (or endure 🤣)

Today's inspiration is from post-punk pioneers who served up the wonderful Odyshape LP, today's #vss365 #prompt 11/10/25 is #raincoat

What's your favourite album?

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Karla NAFO fella @karla-eu.bsky.social · 6h

Wrote this one in Ukrainian but made a translation as well.
But in my mind, was thinking of the #Yeats #poem, "The Cloak, The Boat, And The Shoes" all along.
#vss365 #prompt #дощовик #raincoat #Вірш #blueSlyPoetry

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Val Thorne @valthorne.bsky.social · 6h

Leia should have known better, walking her dog in the PNW, that wearing a sweater was tempting fate. Even though it was only a sprinkle, once she reached the bottom of the hill it turned into a downpour. She forlornly thought of her #raincoat, nice and dry inside, and dreaded the walk home.
#vss365

a dirt road in the woods during a rainstorm

ALT: a dirt road in the woods during a rainstorm

media.tenor.com

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ryansraz.bsky.social @ryansraz.bsky.social · 7h

Black vinyl raincoat
Raindrops glittering jewels
Hint of shape within

#vss365 #haiku #raincoat
#filmphotography #photography #blueskyphotography
Version 2

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Magedah Shabo @magedah.bsky.social · 7h

#vss365 #raincoat #haiku

your blue raincoat
I never meant to keep
still smells like rain

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Mark Freakyton🧟‍♂️ @markdful.bsky.social · 7h

Giggling Fish Mantra

Raining blood dripped down my yellow #raincoat.
Its acid corroded the escape boat.
But I found my courage to stand and fight.
I would keep my country from blackest night.
I put on the inflated frog outfit.
Hurl absurdity rather than submit.

#vss365 #poetry

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Dale Tudge? Humor! @daletudgehumor.bsky.social · 8h

I ordered Pigs in a Blanket, but they brought me Rhubarb in a #Raincoat. I broke out in hives—not like honeybees in a maximum-security bee prison, but red bumps on my skin. I think it was the latex in the meal. It reminded me of the rhubarb they served in prison, which always gave me hives.

#vss365

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Anasha Thea @anashathea.bsky.social · 8h

Hand me my #raincoat
I’m going to go stomp puddles
And stare up into
Infinite gray sky

#vss365

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Anasha Thea @anashathea.bsky.social · 8h

Everyone’s got a hand out
But the trickle down ain’t tricklin’
The taste of #ash is free
When the frustrations start burning

#vss365

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Jim Already a Vampire @jimthevampire.bsky.social · 52m

Black box retrieval service: Great rates. Instant quotes. Tight spaces are our speciality. Awkwardness is free of charge.

#WIPSnips
#WriteSky
#WritingPrompts
#WritingCommunity
#SciFiWriters
#Sff

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Tara S Ghoul @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 47m

From the sequel of ‘First to Fall’, when Alitzah loses hope, comforting her is awkward. #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts

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Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️ @maximejaz.bsky.social · 52m

#WIPSnips From my widowed single dads WIP.
Benedict is still in the shock of his grief, but Frank has had more time to cope, and after he finds him on that lonely beach with his baby, and scoops them up, he asks Benedict to stay the night, worried for them.

Frank sensed that tiny dip back into despair. “Hey, let’s talk tomorrow and put a list together for you. I can also give you stuff Jules doesn’t need anymore.” Smiling. “Amie would have wanted it too… and it’s not like I’ll have another kid…”
“You could though…? Later… maybe…” Sighing. “I’m sorry… maybe it’s too early.”
Frank blew a breath. “No, don’t… I don’t think so, though… Amie was the love of my life. We had the kid, and I’m not sure I’ll be with a woman next…. If there’s a next time.”
Benedict’s eyes widened a bit, looking at that unfazed man, his broad arm nonchalantly laid on the sofa’s back, one leg tucked under the other as his hair tumbled on that broad chest. Those green eyes, calm.
“Oh…”
Frank smiled, wide. “I hope you’re fine with bi blokes?”
Benedict raised his hands. “Yes, sure. Whatever… it’s none of my business…”
“You asked about a possible baby, and I can’t really see that baby now. So we can sort through Jules’ stuff tomorrow. Pancakes are fine in the morning?”
“Yes, sure…” Pancakes… bi… Somehow, his heart was rushing. He rubbed at it. “Fine, sure…” Jolting when he felt Frank’s hand on his arm, warm. Risking his eyes.
“Time for bed? We’ll just pick the small lady up on her sheepskin.” A soft wink. “She sleeps like a log, I told you.”
Benedict smiled. “Yeah… let’s hope she won’t wake.” Somehow, that touch felt right too. “Thanks…”

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Sage like the Pumpkin Spice @sagecollins.bsky.social · 38m

Blake returns from another world, fixed after days of not being able to see Ren as anything but a horror.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From A Paranormal Bromance 3 👻💙

Black text, green background, “hope” highlighted blue

"Mm hmm." He gives me a sleepy smile as his hand practically floats up to my cheek. Every movement is more fluid than normal, less full of the tension he normally holds himself up with.

"You're intoxicated. Or you've been hit by some occulty whammy."

These are statement of facts, but he doesn't respond to either of them. All he says is, "I need you."

Joy finishes cleaning up the spilt candle. She sniffles and turns away. I can almost hear her heart break a second time in as many minutes. "Are you fixed, Blake?" she asks, her voice shaking.

He obviously is. His eyes take me in as if he might have forgotten what I looked like. But he doesn't seem to hear her. "I want you to choose me," he says.

I put my hand on top of his and squeeze my eyes shut. "Then fight for me. When you're not occulted or drunk. Fight for me."

"I will." I open my eyes at his words and allow myself to HOPE. "I will."

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Robin Herbert @peterrobin.bsky.social · 49m

#WIPSnips October 12

"hope"

This is from my WIP, "A Morris Minor on Mars". I decided it would be too complicated to give context.

He looked at his host and decided that this man was never going to get an apology from him.
“Good evening, Dr Hilbert,” he said in a cultured English voice, “My name is Daryl Hutton and I can read and write in English and Vietnamese. I run a successful business which I started, I graduated from NIDA and can play four musical instruments at a grade eight level. I hope by the conclusion of this evening to convince you that I am capable of consenting to all manner of yucky stuff.”
Simon just looked at him, not daring to say anything in case he was taking some unexpected bait. But rescue came in the form of Mrs Hilbert, who walked into the room, saying, “Richard Burton, right?”
Daryl smiled and she took his hand and kissed his cheek. “I'm Gilda. I've been dying to meet you since Simon told me about you last night. I told him he'd been had. I had such a laugh. "

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Finn McLellan @saranadosfiction.com · 53m

#WIPSnips | hope

In which ritual preparations go a wee bit sideways thanks to Mortimer being somewhat preoccupied and forgetting that the other magician in the room is a werewolf

( saranadosfiction.com/2023/02/11/s... )

At least, until he turned to her with the satchel he was holding full to the brim with dried herbs and preparation bowls and said, as though it was the most reasonable request in the world, “Could you grab me the silver?”

Her first instinct was to punch him in the nose for the suggestion. Her second, which was thankfully the one she chose to listen to, was to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and say, as calmly as she could, “No.”

“What?”

“I said no. I don’t have gloves with me, and I can’t fight if my hands are covered in blisters.” *Not to mention the fact that if I have to somehow build up enough energy to heal from sodding silver burns then you can kiss goodbye to the rest of the contents of your pantry.*

There was a long, awkward silence. Then she heard the satchel hit the floor, shortly followed by a noise which could only be Mortimer’s palm making contact with his forehead.

“Gods, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“No harm done. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” *At least, I bloody hope you didn’t, else you and I are going to have to have a conversation you’re not going to enjoy very much.* “Do you want me to sort out the herbs while you deal with the silver?”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.”

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Kira of the Wind (Erika McCorkle) @kiraofthewind.com · 57m

#WIPSnips

Cookie is a species of people who have strings along their arms which can be 'played' like a stringed instrument. However, the strings can also pluck themselves as a result of emotional stimuli. Here, Grilled asked what one of the sounds means.

Cookie clenched her fingers, almost making a fist. It was a small gesture, but it caused two of the strings along her arm to strum.
In three years, Grilled had never bothered to learn Homopteran emotional notes. If he really wanted Cookie to open up, perhaps he should learn what it means when certain strings were plucked. Just as a person could involuntarily chuckle or sob, so too could a Homopteran’s strings sing a note.
“What does that noise mean?” he asked. “With your arm strings, I mean.”
Cookie clicked her mandibles. “That was… hope, perhaps? A sad hope. A hope I dare not cling to because I know how easily it can be thrown away.”

An insectoid girl with compound eyes, segmented limbs, and wings. She's holding a potion and dressed in a semi-steampunk style

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Nel @wasphole.bsky.social · 1h

#WIPSnips

“Are you asleep great-grandfather? Or dead?” asked Hama hopefully, craning around to check when Duke Crotalus did not reply.

The old man was propped up by cushions in the duke’s seat breathing labouredly, dozing but disobligingly alive.

✨#WIPSnips✨ A Daily Writing Share Tag @wipsnips.bsky.social · 1h

The #WIPSnips word for October 12th is "hope"

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

#WIPSnips a bluesky writing community tag
October 12 - hope
Share a line from your WIP with the daily word for inspiration
Use #WIPSnips. Don't forget Alt Text for graphics
Synonyms, variation and vibes are fine.
Support others on the #WIPSnips tag!
Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social

The image behind the text is a border that is black with stars with a light blue rectangle highlighted by a fuchsia line. An illustrated caticorn holding a pencil and writing in a book with a rose behind one ear is in the lower right corner

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L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Drafting New Project✨ @smoking-gnu.bsky.social · 1h

Morning #Wipsnips. Today started poorly, and i'm hoping this pain goes away eventually.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

For years following that singular event involving Jennifer, or Jay as she preferred to be called, no galactic nation noticed the movements amongst themselves, the changes quietly taking place. No one questioned anything until after the wreckage stopped burning, and the questions remained unanswered until it was too late.
The results of all this have been… up for debate, to say the least. A mixed reception of outrage, terror, annoyance and, most curiously of all, hope. Humans have proven to be a uniquely chaos causing species, even if they themselves live and work in an incomprehensibly thick fog of their own rules with which they govern their lives (and chose to ignore at a moments notice as well).
It is a time of unprecedented change and upheaval in the galaxy, and we should continue to observe in the hopes that the end results might not be as bad as the doomsayers are broadcasting.

— Professor Drintrax Rik Neyernion of the Union of Galactic Rim Universities
An excerpt of a lecture to new anthropology students, circa 2122 (earth reckoning)

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Rachel’s Memories @rachels-memories.bsky.social · 1h

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #traumamakesdrama

[from Bright Little Lies]

There are things that may happen when you think — when you *know* - you're about to meet your end.
You may see people of importance to you, and the vision may give you strength.
You may duel bravely, and you may survive, but your friend may perish in your stead.
You may see your lover in the crowd, and imagine that he fights for you.
But when that lover kneels before your enemy and defends his fealty, you may grasp, in a way you hadn't before, that your lover *is* your enemy.
And you may wonder that you hadn't understood this. Not completely. Not like this.
And you may fear that this lover is now lost to you forever.
Still, you may hope, or wish, that it was all a lie.

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Jan Karlsson @jangoeswriting.bsky.social · 32m

Murple Hurkull is summoned, not too eloquently, it seems …

From ‘The Big Feat’.

#WiPSnips

“You must come with me, Mistress Hurkull.” The owner of the voice stepped forward, noticed they had stepped in blood and stepped back, shaking their foot. “You must come with me, or you will be late.”

“That a threat or summat?” Behind the figure, Murple could see glints of sunlight shining off metal on two other figures.

“Oh! My dear! No! No, of course not!” The figure stepped to the side, waving an invitational hand. “It’s Continental Luncheon Day at the commissary and they stop serving at two bells of the afternoon.”

The commissary. Only one place had a ‘commissary’. Everywhere else had cafeterias or canteens. And a more sordid hive of scum and villainy she could never hope to meet.

She was going to the seat of power. The centre of Brutish politics. She was going to Partliment.

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✨#WIPSnips✨ A Daily Writing Share Tag @wipsnips.bsky.social · 1h

The #WIPSnips word for October 12th is "hope"

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

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Jon Sparks @jonsparksauthor.bsky.social · 1h

#WIPSnips
Book 7 of The Shattered Moon, working title The Principle of Detachment, has 63 instances of ‘hope ’. Is that a lot? I hope not too many.
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity

And then there were the partings. Often there were tears, especially with the ones who weren't going to the Sung Lands. "Next year in Velyadero," was a hopeful, partial, consolation for some, but they all knew that, however determined they might feel now, not all would be going on there. Some might be married by then; others, almost certainly, engaged.
'Next year in Velyadero' was very definitely not enough for Fièdra, and Torvyn knew that it was painful for her to hear all around the regular cries of 'see you in a couple of weeks' or 'see you in Drumlenn'. There was nothing much she could do except promise to write. But letters from the Sung Lands? From the College of the Dawnsingers? There was a mail service now; that was not the problem. The problem was whether receiving such a letter, probably overfull of gushing enthusiasm, would be salt in Fièdra's wounds. I'll have to ask Mamma, she thought.

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