imagination

Here’s Till Now And Beyond

This is by no means my “New Years Resolution” post, but it is my Author’s Resolution–a preemptive showing of what I have done since 2006 and what’s in store through 2021.

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Ink to the Sound: A Birth of Words Heard

I am always being inspired. It takes a special kind of author to be able to self-create in mass volume, coming up with their own stories apart from any influence–which is a talent I will always strive for, but do not have.

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Fauldon’s Dream: Who Is Nom?

I have grown very fond of Nom from Fauldon’s Dream–a character meant at first as but a vessel to inspire the appreciation of the many inhabitants of Euphora. But, as the case with many of my characters (and I would hope to soon be all), his own story, origin, and purpose have intrigued me greatly.

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Fauldon’s Dream: Nobaph and the Outlands of Outreach

“Gathering what else I could, I came to Distontay and to the City of Ebony where I found hope of new birth as a smith of steel. But such trade bores me as it requires not the skill of a shard smith, and I have lost interest.

-Nobaph, the Shard Smith

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Fauldon’s Dream: The Faerydeer

Not much is actually known of the faerydeer. According to the Encyclopedia of the Natures of Euphora: “They appear when the bonedilies are near bloom and are renowned for the pollen they sweat, which is essential to nature’s pollination and integration of kinds, allowing species of plant to travel vast expanses and find home next to the bonedilies for protection.”

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A Glimpse Into the “Pôrtrət Relms”

“Well, Mr Fauldon, as you said: I brought you here from another place, just as Grevious was once brought…”

-Sir Knowington, from Fauldon’s Dream and the Karier of the Task, Scene XI

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The Sentiment of Sehsaur, Part I

Blind, bitter, and poor did the man shiver amidst the cold and biting wind. The homesteads of Albannik were bunkered for the night and the harshest winter for all they knew. The lonely mountain peek’s town was accustom to winter, but not what they had come to call the Winds of Raigor. From the eastern lands did these winds come–swiftly and like a wolf pack to an abandoned calf. Devouring and relentless did the winds turn color to white, to blue, to death. None could escape it–only cling desperately to life in prayers that it should pass.

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