Six-Sentence Sunday

Bethel was universally respected even as his sons were reduced to nightmares suffered by wayward children. It was the same for us everywhere and I never became acclimated to the automatic assumption that I was to be feared. I certainly was a fearful creature, but when you tell your children to stay away from the spindly little boy from the forest, you are working a little too hard at inciting the rage within that spindly little boy. I was just a kid, after all, no more mature or developed than a Drey or a human ten-year-old. I learned early I was something to be feared and those early whispers and rumors have clung to me through the years. People create their own monsters, and it's hard not to become what everyone wants you to be when they push your inner nature to overtake your mind.

- from Sand into Glass, Book 1 of the Emergence Trilogy (Book 6 of the Malora Series)

Six-Sentence Sunday

“I turned our father into an anxious hermit, convinced a Thulan to transcend, and physically injured an Element, an Element who still carries a scar on his face as a reminder of me. I reached adulthood on the winds of the raging Marglor before being thrown into the abyss of Lumeinar to be tended by a monster. I wield a pair of black glass blades forged by Aumua himself. Give me ten minutes and I'll go upstairs and retrieve them. Don't harass me, my dear brother. If I can do such damage to immortals, what do you think I can do to a half-Mero, half-Aulor Emergent who has nothing but illusion to defend himself with?”

-Arden Masiona to his brother, Theron, Sand into Glass

An 8-year-old painting from one of my acrylics phases.

I feel like I've been slacking off lately, but perhaps I haven't. My creativity has momentarily spun away from writing and into more tangible media. A couple of lovely crafting projects completed and some reading done and I feel I'm ready to venture back into Malora. 

N is for Noise

I hate waterfalls.  Tiny cascades on babbling books are not a problem, but roaring falls embrace me with crushing pain.  They are a full-body migraine complete with light auras and multi-sensory sensitivity.  The sound leaves me unable to function, unable to escape until someone drags me away.  Black daggers and lingering haze, I lean against a railing or drop to my knees and rock through the pain.  Synethesia can be blissful, percussive massages and silky caresses, but it can also be agony, even in places where others find beauty.

E is for Emergence

Spring began in November, but it wasn't until this week that color returned.  The winter was warm and dry, and Kansas turned brown instead of white.  Now green is emerging from the dun.  Dormant life bursts into bloom.  Flowers and insects swarm the grass, and rabbits party on the lawn once the sun goes down.  I have a feeling this is a brief transition leading to another brutal summer.