Author has written 10 stories for Fantasy, Humor, Mythology, Essay, Biography, General, and Western.
The Tattered Souls story is probably my dozenth variation of relatively the same storyline that I have been manipulating for nearly five years now. Hopefully it will one day develop into something good enough to be published. That's my goal, and has been for all of those five years.
It's a trilogy--or will be. 1 - Tattered Souls:The Histories of the Ancient Lady; 2 - Broken Swords:The Clan Wars of the Ama'haliein; and 3 - Shattered Dreams:The Bleak Future of the Seven Realms. (c) 2002 - forever, Weaver of the Tangled Web. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Weaver of the Tangled Web.
I also have another fiction that I'm doing, which is just sort of a side project to keep me from burning out on TS.
As of May 2004, I have begun another story as well, because I have no attention span. The story of which I speak is the DragonRider story. I have always played around with the idea of one, but never managed to do much with it. This could very well be another of those instances. We shall see, eh?
Anyway, I'm very, very open to constructive criticism, and would really prefer it to praise. I enjoy discovering things to correct much more than discovering things that are "perfect".
"Life beats down and crushes the soul, and art reminds you that you have one."
Sure . . .
By Jim Carroll
From the book Fear of Dreaming
I use it
my tiny turkey
The Divine Comedy
An excerpt, from Inferno
By Dante, et al.
When I had journeyed half of our life's way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray. Ah, it is hard to speak of what it was, that savage forest, dense and difficult, which even in recall renews my fear: so bitter--death is hardly more severe! But to retell the good discovered there, I'll also tell the other things I saw.
I cannot clearly say how I had entered the wood; I was so full of sleep just at the point where I abandoned the true path. But when I'd reached the bottom of a hill--it rose along the boundary of the valley that had harassed my heart with so much fear--I looked on high and saw its shoulders clothed already by the rays of that same planet which serves to lead men straight along all roads.
At this my fear was somewhat quieted; for through the night of sorrow I had spent, the lake within my heart felt terror present. And just as he who, with exhausted breath, having escaped from sea to shore, turns back to watch the dangerous waters he has quit, so did my spirit, still a fugitive, turn back to look intently at the pass that never let any man survive.
I let my tired body rest awhile. Moving again, I tried the lonely slope--my firm foot always was the one below. And almost where the hillside starts to rise--look there!--A leopard, very quick and lithe, a leopard covered with a spotted hide.
He did not disappear from my sight, but stayed; indeed, he so impeded my ascent that I had often to turn back again.
The time was the beginning of the morning; the sun was rising now in fellowship with the same stars that had escorted it when Divine Love first moved those things of beauty; so that the hour and the gentle season gave me good cause for hopefulness on seeing that beast before me with his speckled skin; but hope was hardly able to prevent the fear I felt when I beheld a lion. His head held high and ravenous with hunger--even the air around him seemed to shudder--this lion seemed to make his way against me.
And then a she-wolf showed herself; she seemed to carry every craving in her leanness; she had already brought despair to many. The very sight of her so weighted me with fearfulness that I abandoned hope of ever climbing up that mountain slope.
Even as he who glories while he gains will, when the time has come to tally loss, lament with every thought and turn despondent, so was I when I faced that restless beast, which, even as she stalked me, step by step had thrust me back to where the sun is speechless.