Yay! * feels special*
My reading book right now is the Chocolate War, it's ..strange. My favorite authors are of course JRR Tolkien and then Jane Yolen, and Sharon Creech!

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<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v616/galadhrim378/princeofmirkwood8pu.jpg" alt="">

Several years ago Jane Yolen introduced me to the Authurian legends for perhaps the first time. Sharon Creech wrote The Wanderer, did she not? I have that book.

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i ish stuck on "Goodbye my Brother"...*toddles off to poke it and try to write*

What you have right now is really great though, Darky.

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

writers block... again... gah, "Goodbye my Brother" has stopped... and its bothering me

Does anyone else here have an allpoetry.com account?

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I don't, I haven't written much poetry.
I have writer's block too. Grrrr... I forced myself to write a little last night.

Argh. Do you ever sit down to write something, then re-read it and decide you hate it? That's been my problem as of late...

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

Yes! YES! YES! That happens so much... it sounds and seems so perfect, and then...

Well, there's some writing I've been happy with of late:
It's part of the story to which the introduction goes (I posted the intro a while back.... page 55 or so, I think), but here it is:

His sister’s cry had awakened him that night. If she hadn’t he would have lost her – the only person he had. Nathan snapped out of his thoughts and rolled over, getting to his feet. Anya, his younger sister, slept nearby, murmuring something about cats chasing birds. Smiling briefly, Nathan stirred the dying embers of the fire with his makeshift poker, and then adding more wood. When he was sure the fire was stable, Nathan jogged to the crest of the hill they had journeyed over the night before. From where he stood, he could see the ashes of Bywyn. Yesterday evening, raiders had come through the town, taking captive all they could and burning the wooden houses to the ground. Anya had woken, crying, in the middle of the night, waking Nathan. Hearing the screams and shouts outside, Nathan scooped Anya up in his arms and ran. Not knowing exactly where to go, he ran into the foothills, silently praying they were not being followed. Now Nathan was forced to make a decision that would affect both of them, possibly for the rest of their lives. In addition to this, Nathan did not want to stop his search for his younger sister. Technically, Anya was not his sister; Nathan had found her wandering outside of Bywyn the year before, and since then he had taken care of her and been like her older brother.
Down below, Anya stirred. “Nathan?” She called, terror rising in her voice.
Nathan turned and ran down the hill. “It’s alright, Anya, I’m right here,” Nathan comforted.
“I thought you were gone. I thought they’d gotten you.” Anya’s eyes began to fill with tears. Nathan hugged her.
“I’d never let them do that. Come on, let’s eat some breakfast and get going.” Nathan pulled two apples out of his burlap sack. He had managed to grab the bag of what few belongings he had as they escaped the raiders. He handed an apple to Anya. “Will you thank God for our food?”
Anya took the apple and bowed her head. “Dear Jesus, thank you that Nate and I escaped the raiders. Bless this food and help us to find a safe place to stay. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Amen,” Nathan echoed, biting into his apple. “Eat quickly. I know where we’ll be safe, and we should leave as soon as possible.”
Anya nodded, and then wolfed down her apple, burying the core. “How long will it take us?”
“A while - possibly a week or more." When we get there, though, we will be safe at last.” Nathan took one last bite of his apple, and then he, too, buried the core. As Anya climbed to her feet, Nathan tossed dirt onto the fire to extinguish it. Grabbing his sack, he motioned to Anya and began walking away from Bywyn. Quickly, Anya followed him.
They traveled all morning, stopping only for a few minutes at a time to rest or relieve themselves. By mid-afternoon, Anya was tiring.
“Nate, I’m tired.” She sighed, pressing her lips together.
“Want me to carry you?” Nathan offered, stopping to turn around and look at her.
“I don’t want to tire you.”
“You won’t, don’t worry. Here, climb onto my back.” Nathan bent down to help Anya onto his back, and then broke into a run. By nightfall, the two were high up in the mountains and they could feel a change in the air. Anya fell asleep, her head resting on Nathan’s shoulder. , Nathan continued onward, slowing a little as the stars came out. Shivering slightly, Nathan laid (lay) Anya down on the ground and put his cloak around his shoulders, then picked up Anya again, carrying her farther up and in, navigating? With the stars. Anya woke as the sun was rising, and then they stopped for a light meal.
“Anya, we will have to travel quickly today. I’m going to carry you all of today. It will be necessary to travel on through the night again, and sleep in the morning when it’s warmer.”
“Yes Nathan.” Anya clambered back onto Nathan’s back, and Nathan set off at a steady pace. By dawn the next morning, they had made fair progress and were well into the mountains. Nathan stopped and set Anya down, and together they started a fire and ate, then Nathan lay down to sleep while Anya kept watch. He woke as the sun was setting, and after a chunk of bread and cheese each, they set off again. Near mid-afternoon the next day, they had reached the convent near the middle of the mountains. Nathan set Anya down on her feet.
“I’m going to leave you at the Convent, Anya. You’ll be safe here.”
“I want to go with you, Nate. Please don’t leave me here! What if the raiders decide to come here, too, Nathan? What if they get me?”
Nathan heard the undeniable fear in her voice, and he looked into her eyes. “You’re right. I can’t leave you here. But we’ll stop here for food and shelter.” He rapped loudly on the thick wooden door. A small window opened and a nun peered out.
“How may I help you?”
“We’re travelers, madam, seeking lodging and food for our journey,” Nathan explained, gently taking Anya’s hand.
“Lodging, in the middle of the day?” The nun asked, bewildered.
“Aye, madam. We found it easier, and perhaps wiser considering the weather, to travel at night. We will only need to be here until dusk, and then we’ll be gone. We’d also like food for the remainder of our journey.”
“Come in.” The nun unbolted the gate and Nathan and Anya followed her in, as she led them up a few flights of stairs and into a small room. “You may stay here, and before you leave we will provide you with the food you will for your journey.”
“Thank you, madam. We are traveling to Agranthea, however many days that will take I do not know.”
“I will see what we can do.” The nun closed the door behind her and silently went down the stairs.
Nathan sat down on a cot in the middle of the room, and took off his boots, followed by his cloak. Anya lay down on a second cot and soon was fast asleep. Nathan lay awake for a while before drifting off to sleep. Shortly before dusk, a sharp knock sounded, waking Anya. Quietly, Anya walked across the floor and opened the door.
“It’s almost dusk – the mother wanted me to tell you.” A young nun said, and set down a knapsack. “This is enough food for your journey – May God go with you.”
Nathan rolled over in bed, a sign he was beginning to wake up.
“Thank you, ma’m. God bless you all.” Anya replied, taking the food and setting it inside the room, then closing the door. Nathan sat up in bed.
“Sleepyhead.” Anya teased.
“Hey…” Nathan returned, “I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.” He got to his feet, stretching slightly. “Anyway, it’s time to get going.” Nathan put the bag of food into his own knapsack, tied on his boots and grabbed his cloak.
Anya followed him out of the room, and after a quick word of thanks to the nuns, they left the convent and continued their journey through the mountains.
Less than three days later, Nathan and Anya had reached the edge of Lake Tharia. Here Nathan was faced with another decision: to go by foot around the lake, or to make a boat and cross over the water. Coming to a stop near the edge of the lake, Nathan explained to Anya that he needed to search for supplies, but would be back shortly. He ran a short distance away from the lake, but could find no sufficient supplies to use – trees, wood, or anything that was hard, flat, and would float. Coming back to Anya, Nathan set about making a fire.
“Now that we’re out of the mountains,” he told Anya, “it’s safe to sleep at night – we won’t get so cold.”
Anya rummaged through the food the nuns had given them, pulling out a loaf of bread and a large hunk of cheese. Nathan took out his knife and sliced the bread and cheese.
“Eat your fill – we have enough that we don’t have to ration it.”
Anya grinned. Nathan smiled back at her, then bent his head to say grace. After he did so, both travelers ate until they were full. Anya lay down to sleep near the fire, resting her head on a small pile of leaves. Nathan kept watch close by, softly singing under his breath. His eyes watched the gentle waves lapping at the sand on the beach. A cool sea breeze blew, and Nathan shivered slightly. It was all eh could do not to fall asleep to the peaceful sounds all around him – Anya’s gentle breathing, the crackling of the fire, the waves on the beach… even a few crickets chirping. Nathan sighed. He missed home, if he could call anywhere home – he was more of a wanderer than anything else. Nathan had been an orphan since he was eight and for those seven years since he was on his own, until he had found Anya, that is. It had helped to have a companion, even if that companion was ten years younger than he was. Not that he minded – he loved children, and at least they both had someone now.
As a hint of the new day dawning appeared over the horizon, Nathan lay down and slept. The few hours of sleep that he managed to get were restless and filled with dreams of things from his past. Many were of good times, but the last – the last was of his mother’s death, soon after which his father disappeared. Nathan woke with a start, sitting up to find Anya awake and watching him curiously. The sun had now risen, and it was probably about seven in the morning. Anya had found Nathan’s cloak and using it as a tablecloth; she had gotten out some more bread and a few apples out of the bag.
After breakfast, the two packed up camp and started on their way around the lake. They were able to travel much faster than they had in the mountains. Anya ran along the beach, letting the waves crash against her legs, and picking up shells here and there. Nathan watched her, thankful that she was happy, happier than he had ever seen her before. He laughed along with her when she slipped and fell into the water and smiled as she shook herself off like a dog.
Only a few more days before we will be on our way to freedom and safety, Nathan thought, rubbing a small scar near the base of his neck. Safety from raiders, safety from – Here Nathan stopped. He didn’t want to think about that. His mother had been killed by Ciaran’s men, that’s where he’d gotten his scar, and shortly thereafter his father had disappeared. Safe from Ciaran’s men, Nathan finished, trying to stop hate from welling up inside of him. He knew that it weren’t for the overflow of Christ’s love in him; he would have gotten himself killed long ago.
Anya came running up to Nathan, holding a small crab in her hands. Nathan picked her up, spinning her around, and then carried her for a ways, the whole time listening to Anya chattering away about her crab.


Sorry it's so long.... it's only a fragment.

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Tar, yes! Very often.

Elenya, you might like storywrite.com. It's sort of a branch of allpoetry and I have some stories there. It's a great way to get more feedback.

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I'm suffering from writers' block at the moment, so I simply found a website with tons of prompts to get me un-stuck.

Currently, I'm writing a short story with this prompt:



Yes, it has been fun so far.

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

i wrote a little bit in ma fafiction... but i couldnt write anymore... its like a mental barrier... i hate writer's block!!!

Here is a short fantasy story I wrote this morning- opinions please!

Valour of a Distinct Kind


“Please don't hurt me!” She sniffled and wiped the snot off her face with her once-raven hair, “S- s – sorry!”

He stopped, one hand on his sword, “What was that?”

The sorceress sat very still, and the moments stretched out until he throught they might explode, but she finally popped out one word.

“Sorry.”


He shifted uncomfortably, now what was he supposed to do? Avan whistled a tuneless plea for guidance and looked up at the ceiling.

“Does this mean you're going to be giving up your atrocious behavior? That you will reform and right all the wrongs you've committed in your selfishness and underhanded scheming?”

She picked at a scorched spot on her skirt.

“Yes,” Naphtali looked askance, and mumbled something.

“What did you say? Speak!”

“I said, I'm tired of being the evil villainess!”

Avan couldn't believe his ears. Everyone was changing the normal way of things. Even him. He didn't know if their world could hold up to it.

Every day some villain would have a change of heart- or some beautiful maiden would throw down her embroidery and sneak out to jump fences- or a charming prince would turn out to be twisting arms and squeezing the life out of his holdings- or, like him, be a supposed village idiot who saves a town and aquires the title “hero”.

Just the other day Cinderella had run off with a chimney sweep before going to the royal ball; Briar Rose murdered her parents and apprenticed to the Witch; Prince Charming had had all his teeth knocked out in a horse race; a ranger had married Snow White and, well, the list was absolutely endless!

Avan came back to the present.

Naphtali smiled timidly, an obvious change from her cruel leer of yore, and craned to look out the window.

“My swamp dragon is flying toward this tower window.”

A sulpherous wind came in the dinky room to further advance the lizard. He groaned and shifted his sword to his uninjured arm.

“How is this dragon? Fair of mind or foul?”

You know, she was actually not half-bad looking now that she wasn't evil... actually rather atracti-

“Her face is fairly fearsome, Her breath foul, and Her temperament undecided.”

“Oh.”

Uh oh. Avan heard another sound, the distinct rumble of a large army as it tried to make headway through swamp and brambles.

“Prince Charrmen is bringing his army of zombie coachmen and undead knights to 'take care of' the 'uprising' amongst the witches- but their actually having a huge burning- of all their poisened spindles, combes, apples, enchanted corsets, transforming potions, magic mirrors of evil mind, and Oobleck potions!

“I'm impressed that you know about the witch's revival.”

He grinned, “Hey, I am a keeper of stories, as of yesterday. I have to be informed of every completion or change in a major tale. Of course, as you know, there have been quite a few more changes lately than anything.”

“Aye, this ought to alter the world as we know it.”


Avan held out his hand to Naphtali and helped her to her feet.

“We need to warn them.”

She stuck two fingers in her mouth and gave an ear-splitting whistle.

“We'll ride Moriah to the swamp.”

He stared, “That's what you call your dastardly sidekick?”

“Offending me will not fly you swift to yon battle-field.”

Avan gulped, turned, and stared right into the face of, “Moriah”

Naphtali finally did manage to get him onto the beast, but no way was he happy about it.

His lean frame went rigid as a board and sweat dripped solictiously from the tip of his nose. But hero he would be! They would rescue the good, uh, guys, and defeat the bad, uh, guys; with spells this sorceress, uh, no longer used...

Hm. Oh well, they would formulate a plan whilst riding out to battle the Prince on their brave dragon, and save the swamp revival!

With a mighty heave of her wings, the coppery dragon lifted off with her two passengers- a villainess with a sparkle in her eye, and a brave, steady half-wit hefting a sword pulled from the body of a necromancer who died saving his parrot.

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Ilike it - it's cool how you brought in other fairy tale characters.

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Receiving So Much More.

PM me with prayer requests
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