Are the new terms of service for Ko-Fi legit? Or is it another site I "should quit" but can’t because it’s a viable source of income?
What do people want from my Ko-Fi? => https://ko-fi.com/harperwck <=
Notification and updates of major stuff? Everyday nonsense? Just drawings and photographs?
What is Ko-fi anyway? What am I using it for?
Is it a tip jar? Do I put it out there to "Hey, hey, this is a reminder that I exist"-nudge strangers on the Internet?
Is it "all the money I have in the world"-levels of important to my financial self?
Is my Ko-fi page the equivalent of a bowl pushed out by a street performer? Like, there’s all kinds of stuff being put out there but not being linked to because of tough terms of use, but "Here’s a way to support my writings. Here’s some cat pics or some coloring pages in return"?
I don’t really do anything outside the terms of use, but I’d prefer to err on the side of caution.
I produce content for Mature Audiences. It’s out there and available.
There have been times when I’ve described the viscera rather than glossing away.
So I think it’s good to have a PG tip jar that can be shown to people. Something where people can visibly see it being used, and that builds interest in my content. But someone doesn’t have to dive face-first into pure filth when they’re looking for my nonsensical babblings (like this piece and the stuff about raw milk).
"Worm" is a webnovel that I enjoyed. Though it was really long and "gritty"-feeling.
The Chinese novel I’m listening to is a lot of everyday stuff.
She’s an Ancient Person transmigrated into a modern life. She’s basically "the leftover" part of an isekai story.
The person she replaced REPLACED her.
So while she, a half-orphaned princess whose mother was sent to the Cold Palace before she was born, is saving a family that otherwise would have fallen apart… That modern person was in the past living her best life as an empress and local near-deity, in a life the princess would have died in.
The flipside of all those novels and animes where a modern person wakes up in the body of an ancient person. While they’re rampaging in a past the body would have died in, the modern body that would have died is filled with a different soul that’s better able to live a particular life.
It’s almost like their souls were switched so that they would grow up in their particular worlds and learn the information they needed to survive then switched back.
Usually the super tough "but believes in magic just in case" ancient times male lead seems like the type to force monks to do some perverted magic rituals. No proof that they do anything. But grisly. And maybe effective.
—
Switching souls had been a more excessive spell than he’d imagined. But having to tell someone one more time: "If you don’t pasteurize your raw milk when you bring it home, don’t think I’m going to have any sympathy for your listeria. There are probably over-the-counter treatments. Meanwhile we’re in the midst of a pandemic they’ve stopped serving public safety announcements about."
The spell had seemed innocuous enough. A little bit of nothing scribbled in an old family journal. And the steps had seemed nearly childishly simple.
When drunk, it had seemed like a fun thing to do with a group of friends. Reciting some words. Burning some herbs. Bleeding a few drops of blood onto an open flame. Thinking real hard about a wish (though it had been more of a notion really).
There’d been plans for a big dinner afterward. Maybe a big order of tacos. But that section of memory had been ripped away, so that there was a vague sense that fun had been had, but it couldn’t be remembered. A broken connection that was never going to be fixed.
It was all waking up in someone else’s body in the past. But there was never going to be a "Quantum Leap"-skip through time to get away. Because someone else had taken control of the magics.
Spell-casting was tied to the body.
And the body was currently in another space and time. The proof being the stranger-face looking back from the bronze mirror.
The switching bodies with someone in another era and living through a lot of everyday stuff sounds a lot like the premise of Household Gods, by Harry Turtledove and Judith Tarr. Only it’s a 20th century woman who goes back to the body of a 2nd century woman in a Roman town on the Danube and takes over the life of a widowed mother who runs a tavern. Well, if surviving a plague and an Ostrogoth invasion counts as “everyday stuff.”