I am only posting a smaller section today. I do write a lot. I will perhaps do another boook review tomorrow as I am finishing a rather interesting book tonight. Here is the next part of Oracle:

Lyzanor’s eyes widened for a moment and then realization seemed to seep through to him. “Oh Goddess! This isn’t what I thought that it would be!” At this, Catterinia laughed even harder. He turned to Jerrak and looked at him with an accusatory glance. “You knew about this didn’t you? You knew!” Jerrak put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders. “We were on a green lantern street. I thought that you knew…”

“I most certainly did not know!” The tone in Lyzanor’s voice was becoming panicked. “I don’t need to worry… there is most likely some explanation. He can’t be a ‘Melody’ can he?” He turned his pleading eyes to Jerrak. Jerrak turned to Catterinia who was wiping tears from her eyes and still chucking. She spoke to the boy:

“You better tell them both…”

The boy merely smiled and then bowed his head to his two guests. His hands had never left his lap where he had placed them when he had sat down a second time. “My name is indeed Melody, but my true name is Telarai. It is Sulinin for ‘Melody’. You see, I am a Sulinis’faie.”

At this, he lifted his head up to the two men and smiled rather winningly. Jerrak shifted his face away rather diffidently, and Lyzanor’s mouth dropped open even further.

“He’s a ‘faie!” The boy turned green eyes towards the surprised Nadirian and nodded once. Nor smacked his head and then sighed out loud. “Just my luck,” he began to mutter. “I guess that explains why he can wear something so skimpy in such cold weather…” Catterinia smiled once again; something that was beginning to annoy Jerrak, and then said, “I will leave you three to… whatever it is that you came for.” With that, she began to laugh again as she left saying out loud, “He didn’t know! He didn’t know!”

Lyzanor grimaced. “Not what I expected at all…”

Jerrak shook his head and then spoke in a low voice. “Telarai, we are both Strangers far from Home.” He still refused to look directly at the boy that sat in front of them. The boy looked up at Jerrak for a moment and then nodded. He brought both of his wrists together and then spoke rather softly:

“Follow and I shall lead. Lead and I shall follow. By the names of the gods that are uttered in the night; I pledge to help you.” He placed his left palm up and showed them a small sign upon his palm. Here, a crescent moon tattooed into his palm.

“I’m Jerrak and he is Lyzanor. We shall follow.”

Melody nodded for a second as if to confirm and was reassured when Jerrak showed him his own palm. The boy stood up for a moment and then beckoned them to follow him. “You had better hurry; follow me.”

As they exited the small garden, they passed Catterinia. The boy stopped for only a moment and then spoke to her, “Please, cover for me, we are going to use the far back room.” The woman nodded in agreement and then said, “Take as long as you like. I’ll keep watch.” With that, she bustled off into the main reception area. Telarai motioned for them to follow once again and then led them up a back flight of stairs. This took them to a second floor where he led them down a corridor of grand proportions.

There were moans of pleasure, mostly male, and some of the doors were open. However, they didn’t stop until they came to the very last door on the hall. As Telarai moved his hand to open the door, he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I trust then that you ran into Master Luc if you knew about this. Is it rather urgent? Is he well?” Jerrak nodded and spoke answers to both of the boy’s questions, which seemed to put him at ease. “Master Luc has been so kind to us all…”

With that said, he opened the door and stepped inside. The inside of the room was rather luxurious, but both looked around in awe of what the room was decorated with. The walls, which were painted a pale, very pale, shade of green flickered in the candle light that was provided by the many candelabras and wall scones. They illuminated a four-poster bed and a small table, complete with a couch on the side. There were three chairs and a small dresser, upon which sat another bottle of the famous ‘faie wine and three small delicate crystalline drinking bowls.

The inside of the bed rustled from behind green and crème colored silks. A face popped out from behind “Masöa iriaalea sié’ol Telarai?” (Is that you Telarai?) It was just as slim as Harmony’s and yet it had a brilliance of blues eyes and long pale hair, which had been left loose and free flowing. There was the same rounded jaw, yet powerful as well, but a little softer on the cheek bones. The skin was also much like a pale white, only in the cheeks; there was a slight rosy touch.

The face stopped and then turned towards the other two who were standing in the room. “Öre’s misiô shiö’an elurí averiéras?” (Are these people safe brother?) The face slid off the bed to reveal a full body. Almost as thin and supple and slim as Telarai was. The person hung off the bedpost, dressed only in a long white, and sheer tunic.

“Auraia elú irasias, tella mia, isiü ‘gere’aui eris’t víorês’ ïnak’.”
(Auraia don’t worry, my dear, they’re ‘strangers far from home’.)

Telarai nodded slightly and then motioned to the others. The person in the tunic bowed and then spoke to both Lyzanor and Jerrak. “Miâlora.” (Welcome.) Lacing hands together, the androgynous figure stood up. Telarai then spoke to Lyzanor and Jerrak. “This is my younger brother Auraia. Please, do sit down while I talk to him a moment.” At this, he motioned to the couch that was on the other side of the room.

Jerrak nodded and Lyzanor seemed to become more frustrated than ever. “I thought he was a girl!” He whispered as they both sat on the couch across from the bed. Jerrak shook his head and then sighed.

“Don’t you even remember where we are? This is a green lantern house. All the people in here are most assuredly men.” Jerrak huffed and then wouldn’t say anything more. As the two brothers conversed in low tones, Lyzanor glowered. After a moment, Telarai turned over to look at the two people who were sitting on his couch. He slowly walked over to the dresser and then spoke. “Would you like some ‘faie wine? It will help pass the time.” Jerrak shook his head rather vigorously and Lyzanor nodded his consent. The face of Auraia peered out from behind the silk covering the bed as Telarai poured a bowl of the wine.

As he passed it to Lyzanor, he nodded a gruff thanks and then proceeded to drain half of the bowl. Telarai waited for him to finished and then looked to his brother. The boy behind the silk nodded his head.

Birthday Break

I will simply take a Break today as it is my BIRTHDAY!

Happiness to me that is. I hope all of you have a wonderful day, like I will have.

Oracle Chapter 2

This is the begining of the second chapter of Oracle: I hope you like it.

II: Catterinia’s

I think that it is safe to say that we are lost in the last place on earth people can be lost in” Jerrak threw his hands up into the air and rolled his gray eyes. “If you just let me help you…”

Lyzanor shot him a look. “I’d like to think that I know my way around a Red Lantern Lane…”

“I think that you’re too drunk on that damn ‘faie wine to know what the hell is going on.”

Lyzanor stopped and then spoke out. “I resent that!”

A woman dressed in a red skimpy dress walked right up to Lyzanor and put her hands around his arm. “Hey there hunny; can I help you relieve your stress?”

Jerrak threw himself towards her and grabbed her roughly by the wrist and jerked her off of Lyzanor’s arm.

“He’s not for you my dear… we just need some information.”

The woman sneered and rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong sweet-cheeks? Did I move into your territory?” Jerrak opened his mouth and then blushed violently. He looked to the ground and then muttered something under his breath.

“What’s that sweetie? Did I say something’ wrong… or was it right?”

“Come on,” he yelled suddenly. The woman didn’t look startled at all. She just smiled. “What’s wrong boy; am I getting a rise out of you? Why don’t you follow me and I’ll get you out of that cloak and show you…” He looked at her for a moment and her eyes widened as she gazed into the cowl.

“You… You…” she began to stammer. He looked away from her suddenly and then spoke in a low voice. “Just tell us where the Green Lane is.” She snapped her mouth shut and then just pointed in the direction of a street.

They both nodded and Lyzanor turned to look at Jerrak. “I think that she knows about your secret.” Underneath the cowl, Jerrak just scowled and pointed towards the same direction.

“Just go.”

Lyzanor shrugged and began to walk. As they walked along, he spoke only once. “How can she stand to wear such a skimpy thing then it’s so damn cold?”

Lyzanor shrugged his shoulders again and that was the end of that conversation. Finally, the street began to change only slightly. The streets looked almost the same, and so did the ‘houses’. The only thing that seemed to change was that the lanterns that were red changed to green. Another thing that seemed to change was that there were not so many people inside of the streets any longer. Of course, Lyzanor seemed to notice nothing else, but Jerrak began to get a little nervous.

As they passed by the places that were on the street, they finally came to one towards the end, in which there was a rather bawdy statue of a man playing a flute and dressed in a rather skimpy silk cloth, which draped his body. There was no one outside at first, but the door flew right open and a swarthy blonde woman stepped out of the door. She was rather plump and her smile was large indeed.

The woman was dressed in a purple dress that hung across her shoulders rather limply and her bare arms both held cuffs that were simple bands of silver with a gleaming gem in each. The woman had her hair wrapped into a rather strange bun; it seemed to be eating in upon itself, turning in towards the back of her head. On her neck was also another piece of silver jewelry with another stone, which was purple as well. At a second look however, her hair actually appeared darker than the original blonde that the green light cast over her.

She spread her arms wide open and spoke in a rather highly happy voice.

“Welcome! Welcome to Catterinia’s! Come inside!”

Almost instantly, she grabbed them both by the arms and hustled them inside. The smell of jasmine and vanilla as well as another unknown, yet rather pleasantly invigorating scent could be smelled in the air. As they were hustled over the threshold, they were greeted by the decadence of a rather classy place. The main room was not gaudy at all, or filled with columns and ugly statuary. Instead, it had simple walls that were the purest white. Silk covered the walls in all colors, but mostly purple. A single staircase led up towards an overlooking balcony, which also led down a different hall.

As they continued forward however, through an arch under the balcony, they entered another larger room in which there was another statue. This one however was in the center of a fountain. It was a young boy dressed in a form fittingly loose tunic with a single vase, out of which water was pouring out rather tranquilly into a small pond at his feet. It made a small chime that sounded almost like music.

“We are the only ones on Green Lane that can say that in our House, we have a singing fountain. It has tumblers on the inside, which the water goes through at intervals, which allows for the notes. It plays ‘Minoura’s Lament’. It’s beautiful.” The woman paused in front of the fountain with both men.

The courtyard was lit by lamps, mostly white light to reflect the silk, but there was the occasional green candle and the flickering light was almost a comfort in the small area. A single couch was set in between two pedestal-like tables, in which were small braziers where the smell of the strange incense could be smelled, wafting upon the gentle breeze from the open aired area. Above the couch was a canopy that was made in a twist on a gazebo fashion. However, it wasn’t as cold here as the outside for some reason.

The woman, whom both assumed was Catterinia, sighed contentedly for a moment. Then she turned quite suddenly and smiled warmly at both of the men. “So what is it that brings you here? Are you each looking for a companion for the night, or are you simply looking for one to share?” Jerrak twisted nervously where he was standing and the woman smiled. “Oh. So is this your first time young sir? Well, we do have some of the finest here… tell Catterinia what it is you desire and I can be sure to try and provide it for you…”

“Ah, so you’re Catterinia?” Lyzanor turned an inquisitive eye to the woman; waiting for a response. The woman smiled and placed both hands upon her breast, hands laced.

“Yes, that would be me, Catterinia Manses.” She moved her eyes to Jerrak after answering Lyzanor’s question. “You may take off your cowl sir, as we value our patron’s privacy here more than anywhere else.” Nor coughed nervously and then took a step forward in front of Jerrak, shielding him halfway from Catterinia’s gaze.

“I don’t think that would be wise my lady…”

“Oh nothing bothers me,” she replied. “Why, I am one of the few people in the city who offers up Light-touched…” Jerrak took a sharp breath. Catterinia smiled almost knowingly. “However, if being slightly secretive turns you on in this case, then I would only ask that I see your face for the safety of my workers…” She grabbed both of her wrists and held them in front of her, directly under her rather large supple breasts.

Jerrak twisted for a moment as if to make a move to leave the room and go back outside and then turned back to face Catterinia. Slowly, he removed the hood of his cloak and his white hair cascaded out and down his shoulders and to the center of his back. His hair was tinged with slight silver in the lamplight of the room. Catterinia smiled and put her hands on her hips.

“Now was that so hard? I cater to people like you all the time. As long as you pay, I have no problems.” She smiled once more and then spoke again in her normal cheerful tone, ignoring Jerrak’s white hair.

“Now what can I provide you two fine young gentlemen?” Jerrak remained silent as Lyzanor rolled his eyes. “We came here in hopes of seeing Melody.” Catterinia raised her eyebrows and cocked her head towards one side. “Ah… so you want our finest then…” She smiled her innocuous smile again and then motioned to the couch that was there beneath the canopy. “Sit and I will be right back.”

They both sat as she walked out of the room. Four small beautifully carved caryatids held up the small gazebo. They were all most likely saints of Virtues; although, statues of the virtues would be rare inside of such an establishment as well as of saints. Nor grinned lewdly and then said, “I hope Melody has a beautiful rack. Then I won’t feel so bad for being here.”

Jerrak shook his head and then spoke softly to himself something that Lyzanor did not quite catch. He then turned his down-turned head towards Nor. “Lyzanor right? Isn’t he one of the saints of the Church?”

“The Saint of Mountain Hunters; he was supposed to be an impressing figure. I hope that I take after his qualities.”

“Doesn’t the Church look down upon acts such as this?” Jerrak looked around the courtyard and spread his hands as if to encompass the whole place.

Lyzanor shook his head, a wistful smile upon his face.

“No, only the Malctun zealots believe that. Although they are a part of the church, it doesn’t mean that I have to like them. I follow Nadiria. She does not mind a little getting to know of other people in a more than just friendly way.”

“Well, you’re in for a surprise…”

“What? You’ve met Melody before? So… is she good-looking?”

“I’ve never met Melody… but I’ve heard stories…”

They sat in silence for a few moments and then Catterinia came back. “I present to you… Melody.” She made a dramatic flourish and suddenly, a man walked forward into the small courtyard. Lyzanor gasped and Jerrak seemed indifferent.

Lithe of curve and white almost as the newly fallen snow, the boy stepped into the courtyard wearing a flimsy tunic of sheer silk that was wrapped in the traditional style of the Grelcians; a short skirt like which wrapped around his waist which also supplied a length of cloth that wrapped over one of his shoulders and left the other one bare. He was indeed not small at all, but had his muscles finely oiled so that he would appear to glitter in the light that was produced by the lamps. His slim waist was hinted at by the cloth that he was wearing. His legs were powerfully muscled in their own right, as if he had at one time been a runner.

His appendages, however slender, gave off an air of strength though. His jaw line was rounded and only slightly squared as it made a small jut from the rest of his face. The jut would have been hard place to spot and notice however, unless someone was actually searching for it. His eyes were a swimming green, which matched a blonde hair that was slightly long and tied back behind his head. However, there were just enough stray wisps that accentuated his normally curved ears and deep-set brow.

In his hand he carried a small tray with two finely crafted crystal bowls and a crystal oinochoe. The bowls were wide and had gold filigree around the top edges that had been made to look like a complex knot work known to be practiced mostly in the mountains around Septi and Luxin. The boy slowly kneeled and placed the tray upon the small table that was to Lyzanor’s left side and then proceeded to sit upon a faldstool that had been cleverly hidden in the flora that surrounded the courtyard. He silently poured what appeared to be ‘faie wine into the two bowls and then offered it up to the guests. They both took the bowls; Jerrak with a pleasantly crafted smile and Lyzanor with a little apprehension.

As the boy settled back down again, this time in front of both of them on his knees, Jerrak slowly sipped the wine. Lyzanor looked at the boy, who looked back with an anticipatory glance at both Jerrak and Lyzanor. It was immediately replaced by a small look of curiosity, which made no furrow in his brows. His eyebrows lifted up only slightly, not disturbing the rest of his face as his lips twitched rather quickly and quite suddenly. Hs face then became an impassive mask, which Lyzanor found slightly unsettling.

Lyzanor turned to face Catterinia who smiled one again innocuously. “I hope everything is to your liking so far…” Lyzanor shook his head and then proceeded to look around. He turned to the pump woman and then asked, “Where is Melody?” Catterinia looked at Lyzanor with a strange look and then tilted her head to an angle. Nor growled and then spoke up once again. “We were told that she would be here. Where is Melody?” At this, Catterinia laughed out loud.

Jerrak slowly took another sip of his wine as the youth looked in a different direction with a slight redness in his cheeks. As Lyzanor continued to look at Caterinia with a look of confusion, Jerrak placed his wine at the other table and then pointed to the youth who was kneeled before them.

“That, my dear friend, is Melody.”

Next Section

All right. As promised earlier today, here is the next section of Oracle. As a side note, these could possibly get longer and longer as of note.

A sigh escaped the hood and the new figure made a move to remove his hood. Luc quickly spoke. “I would not remove your hood if I were you friend, as your hair will be the center of as much speculation as my eyes…” The man quickly put down his hands and Lyzanor could see a grin. “Many thanks to you my fellow traveler. Tell me, are you a stranger far from home?” At this, he slightly raised his own palm.

Luc tapped the table once. “I am indeed; lead and I shall follow.” Luc raised his palm and showed a small sigil concealed there. Lyzanor however could not see it. As he slowly sipped his ‘faie wine, it struck him, the comment that Luc had made. He sputtered on the wine he was drinking. “You’re…!” The man turned to him and looked at him inquisitively.

“Does this have to do with my name? After all, I haven’t given it.” He smiled broadly from underneath the cowl’s covering and said, “My name is Jerrak. I know it doesn’t seem like much of a name, but considering, it could have been worse.”

Lyzanor shook his head. “I don’ believe this,” he began. He then lowered his voice to a dull hiss and spoke two words:

“Light-touched!”

Jerrak shifted uncomfortably. He looked around to make sure that nobody had heard what Lyzanor had proclaimed. No one heard, or no one cared. As he shifted again to try to make himself comfortable, he glared at Lyzanor. “Tell the whole flamin’ place why don’t you…”

A white hand rose to silence him. “Peace Jerrak, I’m sure he meant no harm. You are indeed quite unexpected to him. My name is Luc and his is Lyzanor, you may call him Nor for short.”

“You are Luc? Then truly I am indeed in luck. I have been looking for you.” Luc made no motion, and Lyzanor’s eyes burned with a passion against Jerrak. At his gaze, Jerrak looked at the table as if he had done something eternally wrong. Luc slid a hand up to stop Lyzanor as he began to leave. “Please, don’t blame him for something that he had no control over. I’m surprised you could even tell…”

Lyzanor jerked his arm away from the stranger. He took a good long look at the cowl without a face. He stood there for a moment, trying to fathom what it was the man under the cowl wanted. Not figuring it out at all, he nodded and sat back down. “It was the ‘Stranger far from home’ question that tipped me off. Only they ask such a question. We have had quite a few of them come further north, to where I live. I have had to turn them away. All know that they are infinitely bad luck.” Lyzanor looked at Jerrak and then said nothing else. Luc frowned under his hood and spoke once more, this time turning his attention to Jerrak. “You came here; obviously to see me; what is it that you were looking for?”

“Actually, I was looking for sanctuary as it were. These people have hunted me for such a long time. I just don’t know what they want! All I know is that they are trouble and that I shouldn’t trust them.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lyzanor’s question caught Jerrak off guard, but he quickly recovered. He cast his eyes down, looking at the table. “No. I don’t know who they are.”

"With your luck, it could be because of what you are." Lyzanor took another swallow from his bowl. “Were you followed?” Luc's question was also unexpected.

“I’m not quite sure…”

“That is quite all right,” said Luc. “However we must take precautions as if you had been. I’m not sure who it is or why they would want you when there are thousands of other Light-touched in this place, but I am quite sure that you did something of notice. I would hate to ever be noticed by… well. We need to get you, as well as ourselves out of here.”

Lyzanor lifted a single eyebrow at the comment that Luc had made. “Now that you have come to see us, they will no doubt think that we are in cahoots with you. I don’t doubt that we won’t be only because now we are involved…” As the white cowl that was Luc turned towards him, he lifted his hands and shook his head no.

“I am not going to get involved in this. None of my business. I am here only because of Nadiria’s call.”

“The Church called you, not Nadiria. If you want to live to see that wish of the Arch Prelate fulfilled, then you will help us.” Luc’s voice was dangerously low. Lyzanor’s eyes went slightly wider and he looked at Luc for a minute and then said, “Was that a threat?” His eyes went thin and his voice went strangely into a growl.

“No, it was a promise that if we don’t get out of here soon, that everything is going to go to shit.” Luc’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact. Jerrak looked around nervously and spoke in a hurried tone. “Please, I know that you can help me, but I need this help now obviously. How are you going to help me?” White porcelain hands tapped the tabletop.

“I have planned for this you know.”

Both people at the table looked at him and Lyzanor once again raised his eyebrow. “You have planned for this?” He sighed and took another gulp of his wine. Seeing as he had finished it, he called the tavern wench over again. “Get me another of this wine.” The wench smiled again. “One more… coming right up…”

“How could you have possibly planned for this at all? There is no way unless you knew that Jerrak here was coming.” Lyzanor crossed his arms across his chest and gave Luc an accusatory stare. “How do we know that you’re not the one who is after our friend here.” Luc chuckled silently to himself under his cowl. How quickly things could change with just a little bit of suspicion. “So he’s ‘our’ friend now is he?”

Lyzanor scowled at Luc. “You know what I mean.”

Luc shook his head. “No, I’m not quite sure what you meant, but do tell. I always have loved stories.”

At that moment, the girl came back. Lyzanor lifted his eyes as the wench came back with his second bowl of the ‘faie wine and left it on the table. He nodded his head and handed her another four coppers. The barmaid smiled at him. Lyzanor took a gulp of the ‘faie wine and then smiled back at her.

Luc waved her off. She rolled her eyes and then moved on. “Here is the plan. I am going to need you both to leave together. Go down the street until you see the District…”

“You don’t mean,”

“Yes Jerrak that is exactly what I mean. Go down the Green Lane and search for Catterinia’s. Ask for Melody. Tell Melody that you are a Stranger far from Home and Melody will help you.” Jerrak blanched.

“Well then, as soon as I finish this wine…”

Luc shook his head.

“No, you must go now, if even to stave them off for a few moments. Chances are that Jerrak most likely was followed. I will help get him out of this mess. I know what is coming.” Jerrak shifted in his seat, looking around as if someone were watching him. Lyzanor lifted his eyebrows as Luc trailed off his remark.

“Then let us go. We should leave now.” Jerrak looked around once more and nodded to Lyzanor. Lyzanor shrugged and then gulped the contents of the bowl. The honeyed wine went down rather fast and like fire. He grimaced and then placed another three coppers on the table. “Make sure that she gets these.” Luc nodded as Lyzanor turned to the now skittish Jerrak. “Let’s go now. We’ll find Harmony. Don’t worry. After that, I am off to find my call to Nadiria.”

Jerrak shook his head. “The name is Melody…”

Lyzanor nodded once and then shrugged. “Oh.”

As they stood up Luc smiled in his hood. “Both of you be careful and don’t get into any trouble while you are out there.” Jerrak nodded solemnly as he pulled on his cowl. Lyzanor brought the cowl of his hood up, and then left it down around his shoulders.

The Quest of Shortness

One should always have a place to start when begining a new project or journey. Currently, I have realized that perhaps, I should get some short fiction published first and have started to look at a few magazines (both online and in hard print) and been checking out their submission guidlines. Some of the places I have heard of before. There is Black Gate Magazine (which is sadly at this moment not accepting any submissions), and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Both are well respected; the MFSF being around since 1949. Another magazine is called Realms of Fantasy ( http://www.rofmagazine.com/ ). Needless to say, I have a small sizable listing of said magazines. Believe it or not, there are a lot more Magazines in the UK and Canada then there are in the United States. Perhaps I should start up my own magazine at some point.

Well, I have made the next part of Oracle here. I know I am not putting it in Chapter submissions, but not everyone has the whole time of day to read hundreds of thousands of words in one sitting. People like to be instantly gratified, so I am jugling that with the small parts that i am putting in here. Perhaps at the end of every week, I'll recap in one large post all that I have typed durring the week... then perhaps not. I want oyu to read the whole of the postings.

Even still, I have more fun writing the small snippets than the blog itself sometimes, but it's writing and I enjoy it no matter what the words say. As a side note, I have also just found the perfect book in my quest here: "Novel & Short Story Writer's Market" . It comes out every year and is very very good. I will put in the third excerpt of "Oracle" later tonight.

Midnight... or 4 AM

This is what a lot of people claim being a writer is all about. Sitting up at strange hours of the day and typing up your novel or pounding out your short story. Almost every professional writer has the same advice: Write, write, write. It doesn't matter if you are happy, sad, sick, or stuck in a snow storm. One should always write. There are some authors who tell you that you should choose a time and then make a guide on how many hours you should sit writing every day. Others are more intuitive and say that you should write only a certain amount of pages per day.

While listening to all of this advice it is very easy to get confused. What should you listen to? Maybe you should amalgamate a little of both. First of all, put aside some time, and then lay down a page goal. If you reach the page goal before you reach the time goal for each day, hen continue typing, because you are obviously on a role.

Putting that aside, I just finished my own long story which I shall refer to by it's working title "RingMage". A lot of time went into it and also a lot of rewriting. It always seemed to me like I was rewriting a chapter I didn't like, but that is why they call it a first draft.

Actually, the reason I wanted to get on here was to show the next small part of my writing of "Oracle". That's righ. I woke up at some random hour because I had a great idea of the next bit of dialog there. Here it is:

A woman dressed in a thick wollen dress, with a low neckline, walked over and in a grating voice asked, “What can I get you?” As she did this, she did her best to fluff graying brown hair. She was not as young perhaps as some of the patrons of the tavern would have wished, but she was not old either. The man didn’t even look up as she tried to get his attention. “What’s the house special?”

“A fine Lager, made right here.”

“Then get me some ale woman.”

“That will be half a penny per mug to let you know.”

“This must be some mighty fine ale then…” The man looked skeptically at the tavern wench when a silken voice came through the hood.

“It isn’t.” The voice was soft, and there was no hint in the tone as to wether the person was male or female.

The man turned towards the cloaked stranger and staring hard asked, “What do you suggest.” The man's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t suggest anything, but if you want something to drink, go with the ‘faie wine. Good as anything else that they sell. It's even better than the lager.” The white hand that was within view reached out and slightly tapped the small bowl that was on the table. At the tap, the clear liquid sloshed only slightly, but ripples appeared as if someone had stuck their finger in the direct center.

The man seemed to think about it and then nodded his approval, motioning at the same time to the woman. “What he said. I'll have a bowl of 'faie wine.” The woman shrugged. “That’s three-the-copper.”

“That is fine by me,” the Northern man answered and the woman walked off at the quaint dismissal of the man. He looked at the white cloak for another minute and then said, “Stranger, it’s impolite to leave the hood of your cloak on.” He heard a small chuckle.

“It would be highly impolite to the tavern keeper if I took it off… I tend to like my anonymity.”

The man nodded and then said, “Do you have a name?” He waited a moment and then a small hand raised itself.

“I have many names; and not all of them good, but you may simply call me Luc.” The man nodded at the candor. If the cloaked figure wished not to use House names, then so be it. He would not either.

“My name is Lyzanor. It is nice to meet you Luc.” For a moment, the man thought that he could sense a smile from underneath the hood. “People call me Nor for short though.”

“Nor it is then.” At that moment, the woman came back with Lyzanor’s ‘faie wine. He handed her four coppers and the girl walked off with a slight twinge in her lip. “What brings you to this part of the world Nor,” the voice intoned. “Is it the Arch Prelate’s summons?”

Lyzanor nodded. “Yes, it was, as a matter of fact. Damn bandits take the church for granted and blessed saints if I’m going to let them overrun it!”

“Then you are a blessed of Nadiria?”

“That I am, blessed be her name. Nadiria is the patron goddess of my house. I do not follow what the Arch Prelate says, but I do listen to what the needs of Nadiria are. She has been good to me, just as much as the blessed saints.” At that point, Lyzanor picked up the bowl in front of him and took a deep, long sip of the wine. The sweet and subtle tang of it flowed down his throat like liquid ice. The ‘faie wine was from the mountains no doubt, but was it from the Illen’faie? He couldn’t tell. As he placed the bowl down in front of him, he turned his attention to scrutinizing what was inside the cloak.

“What brings you here to this out-land province Luc?”

Once again, Lyzanor could swear that he sensed a smile from within the hood of the cloak. “The reason I’m here? Well, it’s not like yours. At least yours is not what you say; but as for me… I believe it is about to come in through the door in just a moment…” As white hands began to lift the bowl, Lyzanor’s eyebrows furrowed in misunderstanding. At that moment, the tavern door swung open and from the cold darkness of the cold stumbled in another figure with a gray cloak into the room.

First Posts are Annoying

Everyone must do the proverbial "First Post" that intorduces someone into the politics of the bloging site they are reading. I'm going to skip that and just do what I will typically do when I am on this site. I will be posting a couple paragrapsh from a story tha tI am writing every day. Taht's right, you heard me: Every Day! Great huh? Now you msut be wondering why I am doing this. It's simple: I want to write for the rest of my life. That's right. I have big plans. Which I will discuss tomorrow once I have them all put together. You see, I personally like Fantasy Fiction, but I read all sorts of books. If you have a book that you want me to read, feel free to tell me what it is. As a matter of fact, I'll have even more info on contacting me tomorrow if you want to do so.

Continuing on though, I will also write about influences on my work. That means I'll also be reviewing books as well. There will be a lot of books by the time I'm done. I can just feel it. Thousands upon Thousands of books. Just the way all biblophiles in the world love it. Most of the books I will discuss will usually have made animpact on me in someway as well that I will also share with you if you like.

So as a start with the book reviews, I shall start with an old book that was once my favorite book way back when I was in 4th grade. It was called "So You Want to Be a Wizard". This book is by author Diane Duane. While not the hardest book to read, it is indeed an interesting read. The book starts out with a girl named Nita Callahan. She's thirteen and has problems with bullies at her school. While trying to hide from Joanne and her gang of girls, she hides in the library and stumbles across a book that seems to teach how to be a wizard to anyone; that is as long as they take the Wizard's oath and do a tiral, also known as "the Ordeal".

Soon, she is at home, practicing spells, and she meets another boy who has the same book named Kit Rodriguez, who also has the same bully problem. Fromt here, the book gets rather interesting. A large "white hole" named Fred comes to tell them of a missing book, known as the Book of Night with Moon. The search for the book leads both kids to an alternate Manhattan (and this might I add is my favorite part...). Man-eating helicopters, vicious packs of killer cabs; can it get any better?

Doesn't that sound like the best place to save the world from ancient evils?

This has to have been one of my favorite books when I was a child and I often read this book over and over again. Even if you're 10 to 50, it's a really good book. Go read it.

Now for the part that you ahve been waiting for. you want to see what I can write, right? Well here it is. I wrote a little starter for all to read. The story is called Oracle (working title name only). I hope that you guys like it:

Part 1 -

The tavern was dark and smoky. At one table near the door, a single person sat, cloaked in a long white cloak. The cowl hung over their face in such a way that no one could see into it. On the dark table made from pine, a single bowl sat on the table. Pale porcelain hands reached for the bowl from within the cloak and lifted it up into the cowl. The bowl vanished into the darkness of the hood. As it did, the tavern door flew open and a cold wind blew in. Cold wind surged around the cloaked figure that stood in the tall doorway. The taproom went silent for a moment as the figure stood in the doorway, surveying all. Slowly, the brown cloaked form walked into the crowded room.

The hood of the cloak fell back and a man was revealed with a long thick mustache and a scar down his right cheek. Dark brown hair hung down past his neck and towards the bottom of it, it was braided in traditional northern style. Three braids intertwined with each other, and at the bottom of them, the dark green beads that were also commonly worn in the north. The taproom stared at him for a minute and then went back to its original merriment, ignoring the stranger.

As the man looked around, he saw that only one table had almost nobody at it. The only person at the table was the white hooded figure. The man stood there, trying to size up the person sitting there, but neither sex, nor persona was able to be seen. He walked over, sword on hip, and sat down. Unbuckling his scabbard, he placed it on the table as a sign of good will. He could not see into the cloak’s hood, but then he was not sure if he wanted to. The bowl that sat in front of the figure jostles slightly.



And as a Random Fact for today:
Marcel Proust's "A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu" (translated as Remembrance of Things Past) is the world's longest novel, according to Guinness World Records. The profoundly influential 13-volume work contains 9,609,000 characters, with each letter and space counting as one character.