John Bryant
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johnwhowrites.bsky.social
John Bryant
@johnwhowrites.bsky.social
1.2K followers 4.4K following 240 posts
Certified Sailor. ⛵ You had me at tacos. 🌮 Fueled by bourbon.🥃 I write stuff too.📚 Currently #amwriting a #histfantasy joint called SLAVES OF GOD #writingcommunity #writesky
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johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Yup!
a woman wearing glasses and a leopard print shirt is holding her hand up in the air .
Alt: A woman wearing glasses and a leopard print shirt holds her hand in the air, pointing to it with her other hand.
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November 10, 2025 at 7:38 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Supermarket Sweep targets a new demographic.
November 10, 2025 at 6:13 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Doh! Stupid first draft typos.
November 8, 2025 at 4:09 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Yo mama! #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
Today's #WIPSnips word is little. Here's a snippet from my historical fantasy joint, SLAVES OF GOD: “Pfft,” he huff. “Your mama so old she used to breastfeed Methuselah.” “Yo mama so old she remember when the Mississippi was a creek.” Jairus shook his head, grinning wide. The dozens. An game of wit and sting, passed down through generations. It took a sharp tongue and even thicker skin. Wink and Jairus had both. They wore the game like armor; a way to carve out a little control in a world that offered none. Most who played quit a dozen mama jokes in, but neither had mothers to defend. So their games stretched on and on.
November 8, 2025 at 2:45 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Been there, fam. Some folks always tryna find a way to push you out.
November 5, 2025 at 4:53 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
I'm John and I write about it all the way through my house and then I got the money for the car.

😂🙃🤪

That and I write historical fantasy.
November 3, 2025 at 9:49 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Dress the part. #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
The #WIPSnips word for November 3rd is "nice." Here's a snipped from my work in progress, SLAVES OF GOD: Wink flipped open the trunk. The scent of perfume hit him first. Sweet, floral, subtle. It rose from the fine chemises, petticoats, and pantaloons folded neatly inside. Nothing like the slop shirt and breeches he wore. Cheap, stained with sweat and fear. “You got some real nice things, Miss Adelia. They all wear fancy clothes like this in New York?” “No, not everyone,” she chuckled, curling her hair behind an ear. “Most of it’s for show anyway. My mama used to say, ‘Clothes are a mask. Dress the part and people will assume you belong there.’”
November 3, 2025 at 9:42 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
A fool and his money are soon parted. #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
The #WIPSnips word of the day is "prize." Here's a snipped from my work in progress, Slaves of God: At eighteen, his father died, and the weight of Brown Estates fell on his shoulders. Davis had a knack for spending, not business. By the time folks finally called him grown, he’d drained the family fortune, buying up superficial things he figured passed for wealth. Exotic goods from far away lands. Elaborate dinner parties. Horses, even a prized Thoroughbred. Eventually, predictably, the money dried up.
October 10, 2025 at 4:16 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Words unsaid keep you safe. #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
For Oct. 7th, the #WIPSnips word of the day is "safe." Here's a snippet from my WIP, Slaves of God: He felt her eyes on him, waiting for something more, not knowing what to say. “We should get back,” he said, and heaved the bundle onto his shoulder. “Oughta be enough.” She nodded. Adelia cradled the twigs and flowers in her dress, caring for them like delicate things. Like something worth keeping safe. They headed toward camp, the space between them filling with things left unsaid. Camouflaged in the brush, the hare watched.
October 7, 2025 at 1:36 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Birdie knows what she's doing. #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
The #WIPSnips word of the day is "miss." Here's a snippet from my historical fantasy joint, Slaves of God: He spotted Birdie. Middle pew, dead center. Hard to miss. He knew what folks thought of her, and how little she cared. Thought of most like tiny bugs beneath her well-manicured feet. She crossed one leg over the other, exposing a flash of thigh under her petticoats. A dare to look. For eyes to linger longer than they ought to.
October 6, 2025 at 1:50 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
When a giant hyena is your protector, old memories sometimes stir. #WIPSnips #writesky #amwriting
Today's #WIPSnips word is "hunt." Here's a snipped from my historical fantasy joint, Slaves of God: "Kuua!” Nanyamka cried out. Dayo’s ears twitched. That word. She hadn’t heard it since she was a cub, hunting game across the wilds with Nanyamka and Uncle. She remembered the impala. Graceful. Terrified. Fast. But not fast enough. She clamped her jaws around its neck and held firm until the body stilled beneath her. Nanyamka screamed. Not with praise, but horror. Dayo never understood. Nature never asked permission. Balance fed on blood. After that, kuua vanished. In its place came mlinzi. Guard. Protect. The word defined her mission. Now, the old word resurfaced, clawing its way out from the dark corners of her mind. “Kuua!” Nanyamka repeated, shouting this time. Something stirred. Ancient. Primal. Dayo complied. No hesitation. No doubt. She knew what it meant. Kill. And so she did."
October 4, 2025 at 1:50 PM
johnwhowrites.bsky.social
Sign me up!
two children are riding a wooden airplane on top of a snow covered mountain ..
Alt: Three children ride a wooden, pedal-powered airplane and pass by a snow covered mountain.
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October 4, 2025 at 1:47 PM