Kirk Rafferty ✨is killing darlings✨ 📖

@kirkrafferty.com

5208 Followers 5447 Following

Dad, husband, award winning author, killer of darlings (he/him) Links: https://linktr.ee/kirkraff Co-host of the podcast @badlitfriends.bsky.social ‬with @thecrumpet.bsky.social‬ "Villain, I have done thy mother"

A post that says, "I gave my fantasy world a full functioning economy and now my hero can't afford the quest"
novl.studio - the writing app written by writers for writers. Optimized for long-form fiction: short stories, novellas, novels. Looking for writers to beta test! https://novl.studio/beta/
A screenshot of the novl.studio writing app
Molly Manglewood (@undeadmolly) Top 20 Things NO WOMAN Should Wear after 30 Untested jetpack Meat tunic in feral dog country Twigs superglued to body in shape of dress High heels if you’re getting chased in a horror movie Deer costume in the woods during hunting season Shirt made of wasps Full suit of armor in the pool Fake bomb vest at airport Necklace made of human ears A sampler of endangered animal skins Cursed amulets Mohair sweater that is currently on fire Police uniform that you stole from a police officer The One Ring Anything covered in chum Fur accessories such as live pet hyenas Glitter eye shadow that contains botfly pheromones Loafers that are actually just dead seagulls you jammed your feet into. Leaky backpack full of cream of mushroom soup Booty shorts with military secrets written on butt
Photo of a Whee-Lo toy
Death sitting on a park bench with bodies laying around him. The caption is, "Authors be like:"
A stylized broken ballerina on a red background. THE SNOW MAIDEN. A novel written by Kirk Rafferty.
A scam email from the Vermont Book Club. It is a scam. Don't reply to anything coming from this supposed organization.
Sean Connery looking at the camera, in front of a store that says "Shoon."
Fragment of an image, to be revealed later!
Witchcraft tips: How to perform: Curse of breaking every bone in someone's body To do this spell you will need: car
A screencap of a post on Threads by cece_lyra_agent: If you absolutely HAD to pick, would you rather hate your cover or your title? Imagine you had a great offer from a great publisher. But they insist on creative control of your cover OR title...and their choice is one you *really* dislike. Would you settle for a bad cover or a bad title?
Etm. (abbr.) Latin abbreviation for the literal translation of "and shit," specifically, "et merda." Just like "etc." (and so forth), "i.e." (that is), and "e.g." (for example), "etm." can be used to abbreviate "and shit."
"I Must Regretfully Step Aside," A poem I wrote from my over 200 literary agent query rejection letters.
The Walking Dead meme with Rick and Carl in a sign over a display of the Dungeon Crawler Carl books. Rick: They're in a dungeon, Carl. A dungeon!
A blurred screencap of Query Tracker's Top 10 Most Rejecting Agents list.
A troll doll with the caption: I bring a sort of abandoned children's toy vibe to the function that isn't really for everyone
Image of a pregnant librarian
A Days Inn sign that says: 32IN HDTV EGGS WAFFLES BISCUITS AND GRAVY HOT TUB
A scene from Dazed and Confused. Driver: You gonna die at the end? Passenger in back seat: Uh, no, I wasn't planning on it. Driver: It'd be a lot cooler if you did.
The final paragraph of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, followed by a handwritten addition by somebody else: As he drifted away I could just make out his final words. "It's okay if you just call me 'Frankenstein' instead of 'Frankenstein's Monster.' I really don't mind. The end
From The Denver Post. Workers at Alamo Drafthouse in Sloan's Lake to strike over QR code rollout.
Spock wearing a beanie
Chonk, my white and brown puppy
A screen capture from the article. "None of whom gave Grammarly permission to include them" is highlighted.
A screen capture of the Wikipedia entry for Freemasonry, with a message from Wikipedia: "This article may incorporate text from a large language model. It may include hallucinated information, copyright violations, claims not verified in cited sources, original research, or fictitious references. Any such material should be removed, and content with an unencyclopedic tone should be rewritten."
We're all in this together like hostages
Pippin in the classic "What about second breakfast?" scene
2026 Pikes Peak Writers Conference - Saddle Up and Write
A four panel cartoon. Panel one: Brain: Falling asleep? Panel two: Person: <sleeping> Yes, shut up. Panel three: Brain: There's a plot hole in your book. Panel four: Person: <Wide awake>.
Movie poster for Moscow Does Not Believe In Tears
What are the four core character classes?
A screenshop of The Wilkes University James Jones First Novel Fellowship eligible writers, which includes a requirement that the writer be "US citizens or permenant residents of America with Green Cards"
An AI-generated image of a woman typing on an Astrohause Freewrite device. The woman, device, and her surroundings have a "knitted" quality.
The cover of American Spy, by Lauren Wilkinson
Pupp with stick
A list of basically every genre and sub-genre ever
An image from Star Trek: The Next Generation. "There's this episode of STAR TREK where Captain Picard is captured and tortured, and the main way that they try to break him is by showing him four lights and telling him there are five. There are four lights. This is not a post about STAR TREK.
A Bluesky post from Tagonist Knights Publishing (@tatonistknight.bsky.social) As a publisher, if I see any comparison to other work that is “this x this”, I immediately move onto the next. It comes across as not putting forth effort and it’s done way too much. Try to be original. Do something to catch us off guard. Stand out. Don’t just copy/paste what other people are doing.
Image of Scrooge from A Christmas Carol. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Future Imperfect Conditional," said the Spirit. "I bring news of what would have been going to happen if you were not to have been going to change your ways."
"Fin"
A Bluesky account promoting How to use AI to Write Blog Posts That Answer Search Queries
I barged out the front door and onto the sidewalk. Behind me, music thumped, and people laughed, oblivious. Of course they were. They hadn't just watched their boyfriend shove his tongue down some fairy princess's throat. It was late. Even the trick-or-treaters had gone home. I pulled up the Rideo app and ordered a ride. The little car icon appeared instantly. Less than a minute away. That was…lucky? Weird? Whatever. I just wanted to go home and cry. I shivered. It was Fall, and my costume—black dress, fishnets, cat makeup—wasn't exactly built for warmth. My cat-ears headband was lopsided.
This was such an elegantly told, taut, and beautifully written start to this historical espionage story. It is cinematic, meticulously researched, and propelled by a heroine who commands attention from the start. What stands out most from the opening chapters is your control over tension and atmosphere. The Moscow of 1950 feels fully realized; it is oppressive and cold, with the danger of betrayal in every shadow. I loved your prose for evoking the grounded, sophisticated tone of John le Carré, blended with the kinetic immediacy of Greg Rucka or Olen Steinhauer, and for reminding me of the lush, emotionally charged aesthetic of The Americans. It is a spy thriller and a psychological study of identity and trauma.
“When the Bolsheviks came demanding their grain, the villagers had hidden some of it beneath the floorboards of the church.” Anna’s voice takes on a distant quality as she recites from memory. “When the soldiers found it, they lined up the men in the square.” She continues stirring, her eyes fixed on the swirling liquid. “The commissar shot the first man, then the second. My grandfather stepped forward and told him he knew where more was hidden, then led them to a well two kilometers from the village.” Anna’s lips curve into a small, sad smile. “There was nothing but water in the well. But it gave the village enough time to move the children and grain deeper into the forest. When the Russians returned, they came back to an empty village.” She picks up both mugs, turning to face Jo. “They beat him, and then they shot him. They threw his body into the well so that nobody could drink from it. “I asked my grandmother why he did such a thing. She said, ‘It wasn’t courage that drove him to give his life. It was stubbornness. Ukrainians are too stubborn to die, even when Russians tell us to.’” She turns to face Jo. “I won’t go back.”
Crossing the runway threshold, Vika flares the biplane, then coasts less than two meters above the runway, bleeding off speed in “ground effect”—a cushion of air keeping her aloft until gravity finally wins—until the wheels kiss the tarmac with barely a bump. She taxis to the ramp, eyes flicking occasionally to where Lena still stands, unmoving except to push back a strand of dark hair that the hot, late summer breeze has loosened from her braid.