I once said something to a friend that rang true for me at the time: “My life may be falling apart around me, but my writing has never been better.”
Tag Archives: #storyteller
She wore a dress of peppermint.
Her heart was icy diamond.
Her teeth were icicles.
Purple berries adorned her hair;
bluish-white in the northern lights.
She walks upon rocks of light blue;
leading to a snow-covered path.
Baby fir trees showed the way;
pointing with hunter-green fingers.
I follow, my nerves like cracked glass.
My ego is fragile.
My limbs are heavy and numb.
Steam emanating from my mouth;
my breath freezing in the frigid air.
But still I follow;
never wanting to stray.
She leaves no prints on the fresh snow.
Her feet glide over it.
She shines like moonlight.
She radiates like nighttime beauty.
Cold spreads though my soul.
It comforts me. I know it’s her.
The snow gets deeper.
We are almost there.
Her home is in the trees;
high in the soft green needles.
I leave a trench in my wake;
an emptiness to be refilled.
The morning snow will come;
and it will be as if I wasn’t ever here.
She makes love like a princess;
loves like a white-furred fox.
Her fingertips are pleasure,
snowy magick in every touch.
Her cold spreads through me;
reaching my pit.
Her lips press to mine;
sapping my warmth.
Her body is her own;
My body is hers;
She asks for nothing.
I offer everything.
I lay on the ground, alone.
My wintery lady has gone.
There is more to this world;
but do I really want it?
Will I reach out for it;
or will I stay where I am;
lying on the frozen ground;
comfortable in the cold;
dreaming of my Yuletide Mistress.
When you decide a WIP is done, is it really done? That’s probably a question geared more toward the writers who follow me, but feel free to answer either way.
This is based off a friendly debate I’ve had on and off with a writing buddy. My stance, unpopular as it is, is that fantasy and sci-fi, as genres, are not only one in the same, but interchangeable. If you’ll enter into the realm of infinite possibilities with me, I’ll explain.
“I finished my first draft!” he shouts toward the ocean from some beach in a small oceanside town in Connecticut. “Kai the Swordsman is finally done!”
Today demands I write something new, something fresh to me. I’m not stalled on my current WIP (Kai the Swordsman), but something is telling me to take a step back, even if it’s a small one.
I’ve been derailed once again. More specifically: My WIP, Kai the Swordsman, has been derailed. I’m more than two-thirds done with my first draft, and then some other idea comes along so strong, demanding my attention!