Each mask hides another,
Veil on tear-stained veil.
Each tattered page of my heart
Inked and stamped and sealed
In the shadows of my mind.
I got an idea from my best friend, awhile back. Something that helps me watch people better. Think about them. Wonder. You know, all that creepy, stalkerish stuff.
I write notes about people I see and I save them.
I don’t write these all that often, but they are very fun, are good practice for me, and they give me a bank of characters to pull from if I need one sometime.
I didn’t mean to erase time.
I’m very, very sorry about all of that.
This is what happens when I get
lazy overworked *coughs* I mean busy. And realize I need a post and didn’t write one last week because I was at a Story Embers retreat.
I drop the rift-bitten feather.
I mean, to be completely honest it’s the wind’s fault. She seems to like teasing me. Getting me in trouble. Giving all the young ones something to laugh about. Like they don’t have enough of that as it was.
All they’d left were the books, dusty and stained with blood and tears.
Kyth stood among the rubble, tiny pebbles skittering around his boots in a hot wind. The sun glared from the pale, iron sky, unforgiving to any who ventured into this forgotten crevice.
As some of you might know, I have one brother who is a Marine. Another is heading to Marine Boot Camp in three days. So I wrote this poem.
Writing isn’t safe.
It’s not that words are powerful (though they are). It’s not that everyone will end up thinking you insane (most generally do anyway).
It’s a deeper problem than a questionable mental state.
And it’s something I end up writing as a free verse poem around the end of last year because there was no other way to put it into words.
I’ll be honest with you.
I love all my covers for the Legends of Light series, but this is my favorite yet. I’ve been talking about The Stealthmaster’s Shadow for several months. Now it’s time to reveal the gorgeous cover made by my great friend, Kate Flournoy.
. Continue reading
Two weeks ago, I rode a train for the first time. Well, Amtrak. The little steam train I rode years ago doesn’t count as a ‘real’ train. It was a nine hour, overnight trip to Pittsburgh. I’ll have more to say about the trip and train in my monthly highlights post, but I did want to share one thing with you all.
I finally expermented with free verse poetry! I’ve tried my hand at free verse once or twice before, but I’ve never studied poetry and have read hardly any. Still, while looking out the window at 3:30 a.m. from the observation car, I decided to give it a go. Here is the result.