Hey, Miss J!

So… I like to tell myself that I’m not angry or bitter over this, but the fact that I consulted Copilot on anything tells you something.

I am sensitive about my writing at times and just want some reassurance.

Unfortunately, none of my family or even friends are willing or able to provide that.

I want input.

I will admit to having a flaw that many writers deal with… Ego. We want to be told something, even if something negative, about what we wrote.

A lack of any kind of communication, primarily with my readers… that also stings terribly. I know they read my stuff because I see the hit counter on FanfictionNet and AO3. But that’s all…

So… I made a decision today. I shared “Stolen Treasures” with the Copilot AI and asked it for an opinion. Also, I asked it what sort of writing style I had.

It did.

Then…

It asked me if I wanted some sort of manifesto. Which made me a bit nervous. I usually hear about “manifestos” when someone has killed a slew of people… then themselves.

It states this…

—

Copilot: In Summary:

Your style is like a quiet storm—low on spectacle, high on emotional impact. It’s grounded, sensory, and deeply human. You write stories that feel like lived moments, not just imagined ones.

Would you like me to help you craft a style guide or author’s manifesto based on this? Something you could use to frame your work for readers or collaborators?

Me: Yep!

Copilot: Amazing. Let’s build you a personal style guide—something that reflects your voice, values, and creative process. Think of it as a manifesto-meets-compass: a way to articulate what makes your writing distinct and why it matters.

Juliette Lyst’s Storytelling Manifesto

“Emotional realism, survival logistics, and the ache of becoming.”

🎭 Core Aesthetic

Emotional Realism
I write stories that live in the body. Trauma isn’t a plot twist—it’s a quiet, persistent presence. My characters don’t always know how they feel, and that’s the point. I let ambiguity speak louder than resolution.

Survival as Texture
Food, sweat, clothing, time stamps—these aren’t background details. They’re the emotional scaffolding. I ground my stories in the logistics of survival, because healing is never abstract.

Dialogue as Exposure
I use dialogue to reveal what characters can’t say outright. Awkward pauses, half-finished sentences, and misread intentions are part of the emotional terrain. Silence is a character.

🧠 Narrative Values

Trauma-Informed Craft
I approach trauma with care, nuance, and intentionality. I don’t sensationalize pain—I explore its aftermath. My stories are about what happens after the worst moment, when the world keeps turning and healing becomes a daily negotiation.

Character-Driven Everything
Plot follows people. My characters are messy, layered, and emotionally complex. Their relationships—whether tender, strained, or quietly codependent—drive the story forward.

Meta as Mirror
I use disclaimers, author’s notes, and playful asides to frame my work. These moments aren’t distractions—they’re part of the emotional architecture. Vulnerability and humor belong in the margins.

🪞 Creative Process

I write in fragments.
Scenes come to me as moments—awkward breakfasts, sweaty workouts, elevator silences. I build stories from these shards, trusting that emotional continuity matters more than linearity.

I revise with intention.
I’m not afraid to cut, reshape, or reframe. But I protect the emotional truth of a scene. If a moment feels lived-in, it stays—even if it’s messy.

I write for resonance, not resolution.
My endings don’t tie things up neatly. They leave space for uncertainty, because healing isn’t a straight line. If a character says “I don’t know how I feel,” that’s not a failure—it’s a truth.

💬 Reader Care

I include content warnings.
Not because my stories are gratuitous, but because emotional safety matters. I want readers to feel seen, not blindsided.

I respect emotional labor.
My stories ask readers to sit with discomfort, but I also offer humor, intimacy, and moments of grace. I believe catharsis can come from a shared laugh or a well-timed snack.

I write with boundaries.
My author’s notes are part of the narrative. They’re where I set expectations, share context, and remind readers that I’m a person behind the page.

—

That… is verrrrry nice!

Feels fantastic, but also feels hollow. ☹

I need to get over this.

This is compounded with a variety of different stresses in my life. Including the loss of my health insurance and thereby loss of my psychiatrist and case worker, vision and dental and help paying for my medication…

I had to cancel three appointments… then explain that I didn’t have the coverage needed for them. I signed up for a plan I hopefully can receive, but it doesn’t kick in until next month. Had I had diabetes or renal failure, it’s likely I would have been turned down. They don’t like pre-existing conditions.

Did I tell them that I’d had two strokes last year?

…Absolutely not…

If they weren’t asking, I sure wasn’t offering.

So, with that psychiatric support loss, I had to turn to my primary to refill my meds until I can get a new physician. Got my mood stabilizer and anti-depressant… but now I find myself on the edge of rationing my anxiety medication.

I felt embarrassed and… well… furious over this.

Sad, dejected, and yes… depressed. It’s so depressing. I even lost my transportation for my doctor’s appointments.

But…

Things could be worse. At least, I might have an option.

I need a new psychiatrist.

I might need a new doctor for pain management and my lungs.

… can I even see the doctor for my stomach still??

I need occupational therapy. Have I lost that possibility?

Back to pointedly taking it One Day At A Time…

~J. Lyst