Can someone please vibecode a nostr app exclusively for fictional storytelling... like V4V, featured authors, newly published, likes, saves, etc.
Yes, I know that there are long-form writing apps on Nostr.
I guess I'm thinking that if an app were organized more like a music app (wavlake or whatnot), only fiction specific.
With saved authors, etc. And a way to either write or upload documents.
Sorry. I cant fucking do it. Lol.
I second this motion.
Tell me if you find something good for it. I would love to practice writing fiction.
Want to collaborate on something? Chapter by chapter maybe we can switch off... we can start super short.
🤔 I'm interested, but also kinda embarrassed proactively... Idk. Maybe if you start
I have several beginnings in the works. Some several years old...
This gives a decent example of what I do:
https://coastalunderground.wixsite.com/astralcenter/post/_tomato-alley
But maybe we should come up with somwthing new.... what would you wanna write about? What kind of situations spark your interest?
From that same site, this one is kinda cool too:
https://coastalunderground.wixsite.com/astralcenter/post/space-cadillac
OK I'll start.
There's a rhythm to it, if you watch closely. Its not like the flashes come evenly spaced - after the first blue flash, there's a minute of stillness, and then two more come rapidly, and then three more, then five, before it falls back to a slower pace.
Leon knew it would be another ten minutes before the payload reached its first unstable low orbit, but he'd never seen that stage. That would happen a continent away, and a mile high. Several miles below, for him.
A few other people also watched at port windows. More people rushed past, wearing their bright orange reflective work suits, helmets tucked under an arm or slung over shoulders. They made their daily pilgrimage to the zero gee welding gantry, hanging miles over the earth, while gabbing about some workplace drama, no doubt. "Yeah, but Clara said she saw him there," Leon heard someone say.
Sighing, he got up and grabbed his bag from the floor. He had ten minutes to get his butt in his seat on the transport outta here. He paused at a big clear LCD screen, which displayed arrival and departure times and flicked to the next set of times a little too fast for comfortable reading. But there - yep, gate 5, and a little less than ten minutes now.
He started to turn away, but then saw a big smile on the other side of the screen. Sophie? What's she doing here? She was coming around to this side of the display now.
"I hoped I'd catch you before you left." She was bouncing up and down.
"What are -"
She interrupted : "Change of plans. We need you out at the yard. You have visitors." She grinned in a highly suspicious way. But damn, she's infectious. Leon could help but smile, looking at her, although he had every reason not to be smiling now. And now she was grabbing his hand and pulling him down the walkway.
But at the gate - not gate 5 - she turned and told him that she had to get back to the office. And off she went. Leon entered, walked down the ramp, and took a seat. This was not a regular passenger shuttle. He had it all to himself.
"Lucky me," he thought. There's a view straight down to the earth. Below, he could see the area where he'd been watching those blue flashes. A large section of the ocean in that area was covered by what looked like patterned lilly pads. In their center was a city - if you can call such structures cities. Its a key part in the supply chain that he was involved in, producing methane gas from halotrophic algae. That methane is then used as an energy source for both ground based living and the production of rocket fuel. Not the fuel his current ride was using - this uses a fission spinner drive, which is more suited to space only flight - but the fuel for the thousands of tube rockets launching every day. Those more traditional rockets were still the most cost effective way to escape the atmosphere and the highest burden of gravity.
But those blue flashes weren't that. That was something new, and it was very interesting to Leon that the seasteads were leading in that technology, despite methane being their main export. The flashes would be much more visible from the ground. He was only seeing a scattering of the light off the atmosphere. They were high energy lasers zapping gigawatts into the underside of an upside down cup. A literal flying saucer. The popping is from the atmosphere under the cup suddenly expanding from the heat ; the space between the pops was for cooler air to refill the cavity, and then it gets zapped again. They're not sending humans up that way - that was cargo. And it must've been high priority cargo, too. Leon wondered...
(Alright, take it away, whatever strikes your fancy)
The cargo, whatever it was, was not in his purview; it was way above his paygrade, but he imagined it was related in some way to the low orbit military build-up coinciding with the advent of this new seastead tech.
The thought of government agencies working with seasteads was conspitatorial at best, but Leon let his mind work out the details of his seditious daydream as the transport led him back to the yard.
The shuttle slowed and then stopped with a characteristic jolt. The metallic clang of the transport's docking bolts finding their mark let him know the portal was sealed. A rush of compressed air filled his chamber as the door opened.
"Glad you could make it back."
It was his supervisor. Teresa stood with her arms folded. She was a tall woman. Stern. Never smiling. To Leon, she was the exact opposite of Sophie.
"Happy to be here," Leon responded. "What's the problem?"
"You're about to find out. Follow me."
Teresa led Leon past the salt yard and through the laboratory.
Huge tanks filled with a proprietary brine lined the edge of the walkway. The bioengineered algae growing within them let off a blue luminescence that would light the path when the overhead lamps were shut off.
But they were on today.
Most of the scientists and technicians had already left. It was Christmas, after all, and the workers were keen to head home for the holiday.
Teresa continued to lead Leon through the lab, past the restrooms and toward the administrative offices.
"You'll need these."
Teresa handed him a folder with designs for methane extraction. A new species of algae was developed recently, potentially boosting their current fuel output by several orders of magnitude.
Leon glanced briefly at the blueprints as they walked, hoping to glean the meaning for his sudden return to work.
Teresa stopped him at the conference room door.
"Fix your hair," she told him.
Confused, he patted his short brown hair as best he could, careful not to spill the contents of his folder.
"That's better." Teresa opened the door.
"After you."
Leon stepped inside. He didnt know it yet, but he was wholly unprepared for what was about to take place...
This is a fantastic idea. There are many unknown authors in the world who desperately need a platform to showcase their talents.
This. An app for writers to showcase their work. No need to get accepted through third-party publishers. A profile page for each author... maybe it doesn't need to be fiction-specific. The app could separate works.
Maybe their could be subscriptions too.
Yes, poetry, essays, novels… even painting, songwriting, sculpture… If you like, you can tip or buy. There really isn't such a platform yet; if you succeed, you'll be incredibly popular. There are more unknown writers, singers, poets, sculptors… than stars in the sky—all over the world—who desperately need a platform to express themselves and monetize their talents.
Sounds neat.
Until then, we reply guy shill our audio drama
Mysteries of the Bitcoin Citadel
Bitcoin. Secrets. Betrayal.
