So glad to see another writing session! I love these things. Maybe next you could make an Alice in Wonderland-ish or a kind of wacky, spunky fantasy session (with lots of mushrooms!)? Or steampunk, or underwater? Any of those would be awesome! Just some suggestions I'm tossing out. But whatever you do, please keep these sessions coming!
Good morning, Abbie and even though it's not the same as writing with you during a live stream, it is almost the same. Have a wonderful, blessed day and happy writing.
Abbie, you are so talented... author, filmmaker, animator AND composer?! Thank you for making these for us and congratulations on your newest creative project in your newly released album! 😍💕
What???? Perfect setting and backdrop for the story that I am writing. Abbie you are the best ❤❤ PS: Currently autumn 🍁🍂 is happening in the story too 😭😭
This couldn't have come at a more perfect time! I was sitting down to write, wanting to do some sprints but also wanting some ambience, when you're video popped up! Exactly what I needed to get into the flow! Thank you Abbie!
This is just what i needed since i made the mistake of setting my personal project as fully planning out my webcomic’s story structure (i take so long planning out stories, one of them has been in planning hell since middle school) Your entire channel is so helpful ive been binging all the videos for a week
Coming late to the pary, but I love the music! Made me want to re-read elements of what I've already written and review the best source material and just THINK. Never enough time to do that uninterrupted. Thank you Abbie!!❤
Thank you for this well-curated, beautifully crafted ambience for writing. I sat down today expecting to only make it through a few paragraphs before turning in and ended up writing a full chapter. This was so enjoyable and really let me just sit down, focus, and write. I loved the music, too. A tone that wasn't too depressing or too jubilant: perfect for the telltale chapters that all we writers have. Loved this and love all of your content.
Ack I missed it. Been recovering still from surgery. Sorry I missed it. I can't wait to do this immersive writing. Thank you Abbie for putting this together.
Thank you for this, it's been a while and it's on point ! I just submitted my manuscript for the first time today during the sprints, fingers crossed ! I was able to write it this year and thanks to your videos, I feel sooooo confident about the story I wrote. No matter the outcome, I know I did the best I could and I'm so happy with how it turned out ! You help us so much Abbie, each and everyday !
Enjoyed the music-very uplifting. You are so multitalented. Thank you once again for the efforts you make to improve the writer's journey for those who have benefitted from your wisdom. Genuinely appreciate your presence as a guiding light. 🙏🙏🙏
hi, Abbie! this is really random, but I started listening to the Otherworld not too long ago, and I love Orca and Jack’s sibling-like banter (I’m only an hour and 40 minutes in) idk why, but it makes me smile.😂
Hi, Abbie This is something I'm am working on. Please read it you have time.🌹 ######### As soon as Murtaza saw the officer’s message, his breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stretch unnaturally, slowing to a crawl as the weight of those few words hit him like a physical blow. His fingers trembled, tightening around the phone, and for a moment, everything else-the room, the people, the air-faded into a distant blur. His eyes darted towards Neelma’s mother, who was sitting on the bed, her smile unnervingly placid, as if she were privy to some hidden truth he hadn’t yet uncovered. Her voice floated in the air, deceptively light as she tried to engage him in meaningless conversation. But there was something off about the way she spoke, her words carefully chosen, almost rehearsed. It was as if she knew the gravity of the situation and was deliberately trying to hold him there, her demeanor like a web designed to entangle him. Her laughter, soft and pleasant under normal circumstances, now felt like nails on a chalkboard, every syllable grating against the panic bubbling up inside him. Murtaza’s gaze flicked to the window, the dull afternoon light spilling into the room, and for a split second, he considered bolting out of the door without another word. His pulse was loud in his ears, his muscles tensing with the instinct to flee. But something held him back. Summoning every bit of composure he could muster, he forced a tight smile and apologized. "I just remembered something urgent. I need to step out for a bit," he said, his voice betraying the mounting anxiety he could no longer suppress. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, betraying his inner turmoil. Before he could move, Neelma's mother stood, her movements slow, deliberate. Her hand reached out, blocking his path in a way that was almost too casual to be coincidental. “Wait just a moment,” she said, her voice a touch more somber now. “Neelma wanted to give you something. She never got the chance... so I’m giving it to you on her behalf.” Her steps were soft yet purposeful as she moved towards the cupboard in the corner of the room. The hinges creaked as she opened it, revealing a golden box that glimmered as if it were holding all the light in the room. The moment she lifted the lid, a deep crimson glow seemed to spill out, like the color of old secrets, heavy with meaning. Murtaza's breath hitched at the sight. Inside the box were a few small trinkets, but the one that caught his attention was a pristine white envelope. The delicate, flowing script on its surface read: For you, from me, Murtaza. His name, written in a handwriting he had known so well, sent a jolt of something-grief, fear, longing-through his chest. Neelma’s mother handed him the envelope, her fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve never read it,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes, glazing them with a sorrow so deep it seemed to envelop her entirely. “It was meant for you. You should have it.” Murtaza took the envelope, the paper cool and smooth against his clammy hands. For a long moment, he just stared at it, afraid of what lay within, of the weight of her words that he had yet to unfold. But he couldn’t bring himself to put it away. He held onto it, his grip firm, as if letting go would break something irreparable. Outside, the tension between Murtaza’s parents and Neelma’s father had thickened like the oppressive humidity before a storm. Murtaza’s parents stood stiffly, their faces drawn, their eyes filled with an unspoken dread. They knew. They knew what Neelma’s father was here for, but facing it was another matter entirely. Neelma's father, his posture rigid and commanding, broke the uneasy silence. “Look,” he said, his voice sharp, impatient, “I don’t want to waste time dancing around the issue. I need your help.” The words were blunt, almost dismissive of the gravity of the situation, as if the grief hanging over them had no place here. Just as those words settled in the air, Murtaza appeared at the doorway, his face pale but resolute. Without a word to the others, he locked eyes with his parents and said, "I'll meet you at home." The brevity of his statement was matched only by the urgency in his steps as he quickly left, his heart racing with the need to escape. As Murtaza disappeared down the road, Alia Begum turned on Neelma’s father, her voice sharp, filled with barely contained fury. “What exactly do you want?” Neelma’s father didn’t flinch. His eyes, cold and calculating, met hers without a hint of shame. “I want to go to Saudi Arabia. You have connections-use them. I also need financial help,” he said, his tone brazen, as though his demands were entirely reasonable. The color drained from Syed Nisar’s face, and in its place, a dark flush of rage blossomed. “Are you out of your mind?” His voice shook with fury. “You’re using your own daughter’s death to blackmail us? Have you no decency left?” Neelma’s father didn’t blink. “Call it whatever you want,” he said, his voice smooth. “If you were decent people, you’d remember the recording I have. And let’s not forget the ring…” Alia Begum’s face hardened. “Fine,” she said, her words clipped and biting. “We’ll meet your demands, but on one condition. You give us the recording, and you swear there are no copies.” A twisted smile curled Neelma’s father’s lips. “I agree,” he said, a mocking tone to his voice. “But don’t think my demands end here.” “What else do you want?” Syed Nisar barked, his patience fraying, his hands balled into fists. Neelma’s mother stood at the door, her hand clutching the frame as if to steady herself. Her face was pale, her wide eyes reflecting the fear she hadn’t yet voiced. She had been listening, absorbing every word, and the reality of the situation was sinking in faster than she could cope with. Neelma’s father took a deep breath, the room growing quieter, tenser, with each passing second. “When I leave for Saudi Arabia, you’ll take care of my wife. She’s sick. Eventually, I’ll want her to join me there.” Alia Begum shot to her feet, her fury barely contained. “Fine. We’ll make sure she’s taken care of. But you will hand over that recording-today.” Neelma's father rose from his seat, his sneer deepening. “You must think I’m a fool,” he scoffed. “You’ll get the recording when I’m at the airport. No sooner.” Alia Begum’s temper finally snapped. “Enough!” she spat, turning on her heel and marching towards the door. “If you so much as think of pulling any tricks, remember this: your daughter’s fate could be your wife’s. Do not test us.” With that final warning, she stormed out, her husband close behind. Inside the house, the air was thick with unspoken dread. Neelma’s mother, her hands trembling, approached her husband. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself unable to form the words, her fear too great. The silence that followed was suffocating. Is it well written?
I need soooo much help Abbie, please make sure to read the smaller comments instead of just the super chats only. I tried asking for help last time but you didn’t see it and I really need help
The music is nice, but I'm struggling a bit more with this writing ambiance, sometimes the music becomes a bit too repetitive for a 25 minutes sprint. Maybe it's a me thing, since 25 min sprints are too long for my ADHD.
Stay safe fellow Florida men/women. Filling my bathtubs as we speak, food, water, guns/ammo, got my laptop charged, ready to use scrivener! Will see you on the other side of this(God willing)! I’m in Tampa area, looks like she’s turning south, still any one’s guess. Please get off the islands and pray!
Crazy that you think a gun and ammo will help you in any situation involving a hurricane, what're you worried the fuckin sharknado is gonna getcha?? Don't act like anyone is gonna LOOT your personal home after a hurricane either, they're all going to waffle houses lmao
Please don't ever ever ever use stable diffusion images in a video again. As an artist, it puts a knot in my stomach when someone I thought I trusted chooses to use images made by algorithms widely known to take art from artists without their permission.
So glad to see another writing session! I love these things. Maybe next you could make an Alice in Wonderland-ish or a kind of wacky, spunky fantasy session (with lots of mushrooms!)? Or steampunk, or underwater?
Any of those would be awesome! Just some suggestions I'm tossing out. But whatever you do, please keep these sessions coming!
PLEASE make more immersive study videos!! I am obsessed with this and the train one! I can't's tudy without them!!!! You're the best Abbie
No way, you wrote the music?!😱😱You are talented beyond any comprehension, Abbie!
I just put this on to relax and read my book, and the next thing I know I've written 10 pages. You inspire beyond words Abbie!
Good morning, Abbie and even though it's not the same as writing with you during a live stream, it is almost the same. Have a wonderful, blessed day and happy writing.
Abbie, you are so talented... author, filmmaker, animator AND composer?! Thank you for making these for us and congratulations on your newest creative project in your newly released album! 😍💕
What???? Perfect setting and backdrop for the story that I am writing. Abbie you are the best ❤❤
PS: Currently autumn 🍁🍂 is happening in the story too 😭😭
I'm so glad this is the perfect writing session for you right now! enjoy 💗
I was looking for something like it, It has a great atmosphere for writing code as well, thanks Abbie
All this music is made by YOU?! **mind blown**
Thank you so much for these writing sprints! They are perfect; relaxing and inspiring without being distracting.
I love these!! So helpful
My heart ❤ you make these too!!!?!?!
Another immersive writing video?! Ooooooo, so cool! ❤
This couldn't have come at a more perfect time! I was sitting down to write, wanting to do some sprints but also wanting some ambience, when you're video popped up! Exactly what I needed to get into the flow! Thank you Abbie!
This is just what i needed since i made the mistake of setting my personal project as fully planning out my webcomic’s story structure (i take so long planning out stories, one of them has been in planning hell since middle school)
Your entire channel is so helpful ive been binging all the videos for a week
Coming late to the pary, but I love the music! Made me want to re-read elements of what I've already written and review the best source material and just THINK. Never enough time to do that uninterrupted. Thank you Abbie!!❤
I LOVE your music + ambience playlists. Thank you for making this, I edited my entire short story within this 2-hour writing session! ✨✍️
Thank you for this well-curated, beautifully crafted ambience for writing. I sat down today expecting to only make it through a few paragraphs before turning in and ended up writing a full chapter. This was so enjoyable and really let me just sit down, focus, and write. I loved the music, too. A tone that wasn't too depressing or too jubilant: perfect for the telltale chapters that all we writers have. Loved this and love all of your content.
oh yay I just wanted to say I love your immersive writing videos, they have helped me so much ❤
Ack I missed it. Been recovering still from surgery. Sorry I missed it. I can't wait to do this immersive writing. Thank you Abbie for putting this together.
Thank you for this, it's been a while and it's on point ! I just submitted my manuscript for the first time today during the sprints, fingers crossed ! I was able to write it this year and thanks to your videos, I feel sooooo confident about the story I wrote. No matter the outcome, I know I did the best I could and I'm so happy with how it turned out ! You help us so much Abbie, each and everyday !
If it doesn’t happen to go how you want you could always go Indie styles 🙏🏼
@@meloniestewart2940 that's the plan! 😁
Thank you so much for this, I love the flipping paper sounds :)
The music is so beautiful Abbie!❤
Enjoyed the music-very uplifting. You are so multitalented. Thank you once again for the efforts you make to improve the writer's journey for those who have benefitted from your wisdom. Genuinely appreciate your presence as a guiding light. 🙏🙏🙏
THIS IS SOO MOTIVATING THANK YOU SO MUCH!
I'm very excited to watch this video 🔥🔥
wasn't expecting it to end so quick like that
I love this!
cannot wait, Abbie!
Love these chill videos
Woooo!! Thanks Abbie! Gonna use this for my school time first, and book later today! I love these so much ty!!
Whaaat this is perfect! Can't wait to continue writing my novel after exams this week! ❤
omg this will be soo good!! thank you abbie
This is perfect Abbie. Thanks! 🙏 🍂 🍁 🍃
Well, given a hurricane is descending where I am, this is crazy timing
Edit: I have survived
Oh no! Stay safe! 🤍
Our hearts are with you my friend.
Lol same.
Sending prayers your way 🙏🏼💗
Please stay safe everyone , soon everything will be over
peace and love 🥰🥰🥰
I love this!
⬇️⬇️ If you love Abbie!!❤❤❤
YASSSSSSSS PERFECT I LOVE YOUR SESSIONS 😍😍
Nice moody music, Abbie.
hi, Abbie! this is really random, but I started listening to the Otherworld not too long ago, and I love Orca and Jack’s sibling-like banter (I’m only an hour and 40 minutes in) idk why, but it makes me smile.😂
I feel this piano music you are Great Author Abbie Emmons 🔥🔥🔥🔥, Indian 🙏
oooo i love this one, thank you!!
I can't write right now, but i'll gladly listen to this while doing school 🥰
Very cozy!!!$
I would love to just go and live in this library. It looks so much like the one I imagined in my story - built in 1915.
😊 thanks Again Abbie for these. Typed 1173 total, nice!😊
Hi, Abbie
This is something I'm am working on. Please read it you have time.🌹
#########
As soon as Murtaza saw the officer’s message, his breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stretch unnaturally, slowing to a crawl as the weight of those few words hit him like a physical blow. His fingers trembled, tightening around the phone, and for a moment, everything else-the room, the people, the air-faded into a distant blur. His eyes darted towards Neelma’s mother, who was sitting on the bed, her smile unnervingly placid, as if she were privy to some hidden truth he hadn’t yet uncovered.
Her voice floated in the air, deceptively light as she tried to engage him in meaningless conversation. But there was something off about the way she spoke, her words carefully chosen, almost rehearsed. It was as if she knew the gravity of the situation and was deliberately trying to hold him there, her demeanor like a web designed to entangle him. Her laughter, soft and pleasant under normal circumstances, now felt like nails on a chalkboard, every syllable grating against the panic bubbling up inside him.
Murtaza’s gaze flicked to the window, the dull afternoon light spilling into the room, and for a split second, he considered bolting out of the door without another word. His pulse was loud in his ears, his muscles tensing with the instinct to flee. But something held him back. Summoning every bit of composure he could muster, he forced a tight smile and apologized. "I just remembered something urgent. I need to step out for a bit," he said, his voice betraying the mounting anxiety he could no longer suppress. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, betraying his inner turmoil.
Before he could move, Neelma's mother stood, her movements slow, deliberate. Her hand reached out, blocking his path in a way that was almost too casual to be coincidental. “Wait just a moment,” she said, her voice a touch more somber now. “Neelma wanted to give you something. She never got the chance... so I’m giving it to you on her behalf.”
Her steps were soft yet purposeful as she moved towards the cupboard in the corner of the room. The hinges creaked as she opened it, revealing a golden box that glimmered as if it were holding all the light in the room. The moment she lifted the lid, a deep crimson glow seemed to spill out, like the color of old secrets, heavy with meaning. Murtaza's breath hitched at the sight.
Inside the box were a few small trinkets, but the one that caught his attention was a pristine white envelope. The delicate, flowing script on its surface read: For you, from me, Murtaza. His name, written in a handwriting he had known so well, sent a jolt of something-grief, fear, longing-through his chest.
Neelma’s mother handed him the envelope, her fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve never read it,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes, glazing them with a sorrow so deep it seemed to envelop her entirely. “It was meant for you. You should have it.”
Murtaza took the envelope, the paper cool and smooth against his clammy hands. For a long moment, he just stared at it, afraid of what lay within, of the weight of her words that he had yet to unfold. But he couldn’t bring himself to put it away. He held onto it, his grip firm, as if letting go would break something irreparable.
Outside, the tension between Murtaza’s parents and Neelma’s father had thickened like the oppressive humidity before a storm. Murtaza’s parents stood stiffly, their faces drawn, their eyes filled with an unspoken dread. They knew. They knew what Neelma’s father was here for, but facing it was another matter entirely.
Neelma's father, his posture rigid and commanding, broke the uneasy silence. “Look,” he said, his voice sharp, impatient, “I don’t want to waste time dancing around the issue. I need your help.” The words were blunt, almost dismissive of the gravity of the situation, as if the grief hanging over them had no place here.
Just as those words settled in the air, Murtaza appeared at the doorway, his face pale but resolute. Without a word to the others, he locked eyes with his parents and said, "I'll meet you at home." The brevity of his statement was matched only by the urgency in his steps as he quickly left, his heart racing with the need to escape.
As Murtaza disappeared down the road, Alia Begum turned on Neelma’s father, her voice sharp, filled with barely contained fury. “What exactly do you want?”
Neelma’s father didn’t flinch. His eyes, cold and calculating, met hers without a hint of shame. “I want to go to Saudi Arabia. You have connections-use them. I also need financial help,” he said, his tone brazen, as though his demands were entirely reasonable.
The color drained from Syed Nisar’s face, and in its place, a dark flush of rage blossomed. “Are you out of your mind?” His voice shook with fury. “You’re using your own daughter’s death to blackmail us? Have you no decency left?”
Neelma’s father didn’t blink. “Call it whatever you want,” he said, his voice smooth. “If you were decent people, you’d remember the recording I have. And let’s not forget the ring…”
Alia Begum’s face hardened. “Fine,” she said, her words clipped and biting. “We’ll meet your demands, but on one condition. You give us the recording, and you swear there are no copies.”
A twisted smile curled Neelma’s father’s lips. “I agree,” he said, a mocking tone to his voice. “But don’t think my demands end here.”
“What else do you want?” Syed Nisar barked, his patience fraying, his hands balled into fists.
Neelma’s mother stood at the door, her hand clutching the frame as if to steady herself. Her face was pale, her wide eyes reflecting the fear she hadn’t yet voiced. She had been listening, absorbing every word, and the reality of the situation was sinking in faster than she could cope with.
Neelma’s father took a deep breath, the room growing quieter, tenser, with each passing second. “When I leave for Saudi Arabia, you’ll take care of my wife. She’s sick. Eventually, I’ll want her to join me there.”
Alia Begum shot to her feet, her fury barely contained. “Fine. We’ll make sure she’s taken care of. But you will hand over that recording-today.”
Neelma's father rose from his seat, his sneer deepening. “You must think I’m a fool,” he scoffed. “You’ll get the recording when I’m at the airport. No sooner.”
Alia Begum’s temper finally snapped. “Enough!” she spat, turning on her heel and marching towards the door. “If you so much as think of pulling any tricks, remember this: your daughter’s fate could be your wife’s. Do not test us.”
With that final warning, she stormed out, her husband close behind. Inside the house, the air was thick with unspoken dread. Neelma’s mother, her hands trembling, approached her husband. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself unable to form the words, her fear too great.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Is it well written?
I barely attended any of it, but at least I outlined my novel!
Definitely i purchase a course of Abbie Emmons master class how to write a book . ❤❤❤❤
The music is beautiful, but I can't write to music. I get distracted listening. :) My favorite of these is still the cozy cabin with no music.
I need soooo much help Abbie, please make sure to read the smaller comments instead of just the super chats only. I tried asking for help last time but you didn’t see it and I really need help
I’ll be in school 😢
Me too- but I think I will do something till then.
In your streams, have you tried telling people to subscribe and become channel members every 30 minutes?
Abbie thank you but is there nothing without music ? I want that natural effect to write but not with music .
Her "writing in an old university library" one has nothing but crackling fire and snow fall :) I think you'll like it
@@SlipsunLightOfHeaven thank you
@@NormalHuman1..1 No problem 😊
The music is nice, but I'm struggling a bit more with this writing ambiance, sometimes the music becomes a bit too repetitive for a 25 minutes sprint. Maybe it's a me thing, since 25 min sprints are too long for my ADHD.
*party
Stay safe fellow Florida men/women. Filling my bathtubs as we speak, food, water, guns/ammo, got my laptop charged, ready to use scrivener! Will see you on the other side of this(God willing)! I’m in Tampa area, looks like she’s turning south, still any one’s guess. Please get off the islands and pray!
Crazy that you think a gun and ammo will help you in any situation involving a hurricane, what're you worried the fuckin sharknado is gonna getcha?? Don't act like anyone is gonna LOOT your personal home after a hurricane either, they're all going to waffle houses lmao
I'm sorry
Please don't ever ever ever use stable diffusion images in a video again. As an artist, it puts a knot in my stomach when someone I thought I trusted chooses to use images made by algorithms widely known to take art from artists without their permission.
Wish I was writing but I actually use these to get through my work 🥲