• Member Since 21st Jan, 2012
  • offline last seen Aug 23rd, 2016


Just a humble brony who aspires to write enjoyable things.

More Blog Posts8

  • 469 weeks

    Holy crap! So, just in case you didn't know, I have the greatest wife in the universe! (don't make me do the swing) And she has drawn me the greatest cover art ever!!!!

    Look at this shit. This is a little slice of Fallout godliness right here. Bow down to Molestia and fuckin' present those backsides!

    5 comments · 379 views
  • 471 weeks
    Fire Ghost Teaser

    “She called for you, Zealot. Even as she bled her last all she could say was your name over and over. She screamed it, she rasped it, she gurgled and cried it. Oh it was such sweet music. Her skin was, mm, sumptuous to say the least,” the Flayer purred. “Such a supple hide, so unlike my normal fare.” The creature clucked its tongue in distaste. “It lasted me for quite a while.”

    Read More

    1 comments · 320 views
  • 473 weeks
    Okay... So...

    Okay… so it’s been how long since I put up a Fire Ghost chapter?

    That long?



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    3 comments · 337 views
  • 487 weeks
    Why? Maybe.

    Why? Because it’s three in the morning and I can’t sleep.

    Because that line has been stuck in my head for three hours now.

    Because my mind is a swirling vortex of motionlessness right now.

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    1 comments · 386 views
  • 488 weeks
    NLR: Leviathan, Get Youself In The Story!

    That's right! At the conclusion of some chapters I will pose trivia question on sci-fi or the nature of the story! The first one to guess them correctly will get to name a captain and a ship and appear! Name, Ship Type, Ship Name. And I'll fit it in at next opportunity!

    Why am I doing this? Because I looooove it when other authors do it.

    So, first two questions.

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    7 comments · 442 views

Building Worlds · 8:42pm Apr 12th, 2012

In my head, and within all writers and painters and dreamers lie worlds. Endless, infinite whorls constellations of lives, universes, and worlds. Thousands of stars floating in imaginative cosmos scattered throughout the conscious depths of we creators. Within our minds, we are as gods, as beneficent or malignant as we choose. We populate these planes with whatever we see fit. From dragons, ponies, humans, or other races entirely living in cities of silver, of glass and metal, of wooden huts. They can be flat, or vibrant, utopian or dystopian, (and why does FiMF recognize that as a misspelled word?) as we choose. Creating a world or people is as simple as imagining it. All the love and loss that exists therein is entirely our choice.

When you walk the streets, or go to work or school, take a moment and look at those around you and imagine the galaxies swirling about their heads.

We all have secret places we share with no other, little places we retreat to or vacation at. A sandy beach, the ocean soft in your ears as you snooze in a hammock. Perhaps in front of a fireplace from a childhood you wish you had. Driving that luxury car or living in that big house at the end of the lane. Imagination, creation, exploration on a mental plane is both rewarding, natural, and instinctive.

I take pride (hubris?) in knowing that from my head sprouts a monolithic tree of stars and constellations. Each more intricate than the last. The roots of this great edifice grow all the way to my earliest days of running through the forests of my suburban youth, imagining adventures and tales of heroism. Of monsters made of leaf and twig, and their defeat by my own tiny, mighty, arm. I would look up at the starry night sky and pretend I floated through the blackness, finding lost civilizations. And, to those of you who know of Draconity, most of all I would look at the bright blue sky and wish with the dearest, deepest part of my heart of hearts to fly.

It is from the tree of my visualized fancy that I pluck the fruits which are borne from its many branches. These are the stories that I share, the ones that ripen from fragile flowers to plant the seeds of the tales contained into the minds of those who read them. So it is for the writer, the storyteller, who nourishes and cares for his tree that bears the most succulent, most delectable and desirable fruit.

Shape your worlds fellow writers, fellow authors, brothers and sisters of the word and brush. Find your inspiration, treasure your secret places, do what you must to let the flowers bloom whether they need night or sun, rain or earthy loam. Stare into the heavens, walk those forgotten roads, sit in that old coffee shop or cafe with nothing but a notebook and an idea. We all have worlds, big and small within us, and the choice to share them is always yours.

For me at least, there is a flip side to the boon of what I hope is my gift.

I suffer from chronic nightmares. For some reason this seems pertinent to put in this blog to perhaps give perspective on me. (and hey, this is my blog, I'll write what I want to share) My wife, bless her gentle soul, is a very talented dream interpreter and has many years experience in the field and has never met anyone with as vicious, nor vivid nightmares as I. I shall perhaps wax on about some of them at a later date, but suffice it for now that waking, screaming and thrashing as the fragments of the night terror lingers is a regular occurrence. Perhaps that is why I strive to create my many worlds and stories, to expunge the darkness within. Simultaneously however I know deep within that the darkness will never leave me, that is imprinted upon me and everything I am.

And yet, ever so rarely, I will receive a dream of peace, of tranquility and even just silence. These are all the more bright for the dark they must pass through.

Okay, perhaps this blog post diverged slightly from my original intentions, but I do not feel as though the words were wasted.

Green is the Spring, Blue is the Summer, Gold is the Autumn, and Red is the Winter.

That is all.

Report RedWinter · 378 views ·
Comments ( 2 )


Thanks! Sometimes I just like to splurge whatever I'm thinking at the moment.

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