Crier's Tower
I have done jack in keeping up with my website during my school break. Other obligations interfered. I am a terrible webmaster ... of my own website, anyway.
As always, I am hoping to make progress around here. I suppose that updating my sidebar is a positive start!
Magic and Mechanica is out from Ricasso Press! And I'm in it!
My short story "Cogs" has been published in this anthology, which centers on speculative fiction about "piston-driven fantasy and industrial sorcery." "Cogs" is about a heroine's attempt to reclaim her people's humanity in a world overrun by machines. Magic and Mechanica is available from the Ricasso Press Bookstore or on Amazon.com.
New in the Library:
The Message. Valinor has been left in darkness, and Finarfin is the new king of the Noldor. One night, he awakens with a strange vision: Someone has died in Middle-earth--but who?
New on the Heretic Loremaster:
Move over Fëanor . . . Some thoughts on Fëanor's jewelry choices and the larger lessons they suggest about how to read The Silmarillion.
I Need to Rant. On the notion that slash is a disgrace to Tolkien's world.
Inferior Writing? On Chicklit, Fantasy, and Mary Sue. Why do we put down certain genres of writing? Is there anything anti-woman about those we choose to scorn?
Dispatches from Other Lands:
I'm on Facebook. OMG yes really.
You can find me now on FanLore!
And my obsession du jour is Delicious: Check out what I'm reading and researching here.
What I'm Reading ...
Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Beyond These Borders
There is a whole world beyond the Midhavens, begging for exploration. Herein lies a list of places where I have hung my banner on occasion--even flown it proudly--else found friendly company willing to share a song and a cup of wine.
Silmarillion Writers' Guild. Dedicated to studying and writing about J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion, I founded the SWG as a place for discussion, fellowship, and the celebration of creativity.
Hundrede Artes. Here I document my progress as I attempt to create one hundred pieces of medieval-inspired artwork in seven years.
The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels. This was my first online home and, today, serves as my personal journal.
Droplets
II.
On the seashore, with Ada--not real Ada but Maglor-Ada--standing close enough to the icy water that when the waves rolled over, they sprayed Elrond’s face with dewdrop-diamonds of water that melted into big droplets and dripped from his face. That is our fate--to join. And then leave.
His face was numb and he was glad. He would put his toes in it too, but Maglor-Ada was near.
Elros kicked at the seagulls, screaming at them, mocking their strident, offended cries. “Get gone! Get gone, filthy birds!”
For rumors seeped like lichen between the stones of Maedhros’ fortress-home: And from the cliff she leapt and turned into a white seabird. And she flew into the West.
“Get gone!” screamed Elros. The birds scattered before his small, bruising feet that now wore practical Noldorin boots. “And tell her that we hate her! She left us and we hate her!”
Another roll of the sea and another spray of icy droplets joined the hot tears that made Elrond’s numb face burn with sudden feeling. Angry foam-fingers crawled up the beach, seeking to soak his little toes in their practical boots.
But from behind, Ada swept him away, just in time.
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Return to Table of Contents and Foreword