Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table
-- T. S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

The fact that that is probably Brackynn's favourite simile ever might be enough to tell you a bit about her, but if not, then you may wish to read on. Or you may just wish to read her stories. That would be nice, too.

x-x-x-x

Brackynn is an eighteen-year-old Arian who hails from Australia. She is currently studying classical music and musical theatre at university. And celebrating that said studying requires absolutely no knowledge of chemistry at all. She always knew that chemistry was a pointless class to take during high school.

Brackynn is a history nut, a theatre nut, a music nut, a grammar nut and a literature nut. In other words, she is nutty. And makes lame puns. But if you want specifics, Brackynn is a fan of morbid musical theatre, elitist literature, British comedy and crime television shows. There you go.

Her favourite authors include Victor Hugo (mostly for creating the character of Jean Prouvaire) and Craig Silvey (mostly for being the creator of a sentence which Brackynn is not allowed to repeat here). Her favourite book is Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, and her favourite literary characters are Jean Prouvaire and Meursault from Albert Camus' The Outsider. Verbalising the former name provokes excessive fan-girling, and it must be advised that it should be used with great caution.

Brackynn's old literature teacher suffered through a number of opinionated essays as well as some creative work, and from that, has decided that Brackynn has a "wry, quirky sense of ironic humour." Derive from that what you will.

She also loves roses on an unhealthy level, which she will demonstrate by ending her bio with a few lines from her favourite poem, "The Banks O' Doon" by Robert Burns.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree,
And my fause luver staw the rose
But left the thorn wi' me.

x-x-x-x

28 September, 2008 -- So, you've probably figured out that I've been on hiatus from FictionPress for a while. A really long while. And firstly, I want to apologise to everyone I randomly stopped reviewing and also to those who were reading The Stitching. My explanations for disappearing from the Internet are, to be frank, long, mundane and, in some cases, personal, so I won't go into them. Just know that I'm sorry.

You probably won't be seeing any more of The Stitching for a long time. I hate to say that because it makes me so annoyed when an author cuts off a story when I'm just getting into it, but honestly, I'm not proud of it and I don't want to write something just because I feel obligated to do so. That's no fun for me and results in sloppy stories for you. So I don't see the point of doing it. But who knows? One day I might take out those plans, brush them up and write the story properly. I'd like to. But it probably won't be in the near future.

One of the more interesting reasons I haven't been posting anything online over the last several months is that I have been concentrating a lot on revising All Roses Have Thorns. I've been experimenting a lot with re-structuring the narrative and fiddling with POV and I think it will actually turn out really awesome. Next year, I hope to slowly begin the full re-write. And believe me, you won't recognise it when I've finished. There's a lot more of the characters later in their lives and a lot more clarification on how their relationships stand. Thank you so much to everybody who supported me in writing the first version; your input has been extremely helpful in my editing process.

However, I am working on a new project as well. I'm branching out and trying my hand at script-writing. So look out for Midsummer, a play based on William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream -- but it's certainly not a comedy.

So sorry again -- I don't know when I'll be definitively back, but hopefully, it will be soon.

This is Brackynn, signing out.