A picture in 100 words:
Taken on 25 November 2011 somewhere that is quite impressive in autumn in Kyoto, Japan
Crumbling remnants of crimson autumn drifted damp and dispersed with moss on the creek’s bank. The passing season’s lingering wholeness was evident only by reflection; a maple stretched its limbs down deep into clearing skies.
‘If they keep piling up, they could block the flow,’ Jude noted, indicating where inlet streamed into river. Fallen leaves were abundant there, but even should every leaf above drop, the current would not be dammed. I said so, distantly. Though the world was tranquil and seemed still, I was struck by how very old I felt. Time just kept passing.
And winter was coming.
(Forgive me; couldn’t help it :))
Didn’t sit down at the computer soon enough tonight to get anything interesting or vaguely entertaining written. Watched the new episode of Game of Thrones, instead. Hooray for some nice character development in some of my favourites.
I’ve decided to release Dry Spell – the short story I finished in January and blogged a little while ago – for free over Smashwords. It’s all ready to go. I’m just trying to figure the best time to release it. The best time, of course, being when to release it here in Australia so the most people possible see it in the US while its featured on the front page. Not that I’m specifically targetting a US audience. I’m just quite sure the majority of Smashwords users are from there. And honestly, I need the exposure if I’m to attract any attention to the Treading Twisted Lines series.
With that in mind, if anyone would like to review any of the three currently released instalments of Treading Twisted Lines on Smashwords, Goodreads, the iTunes store – anywhere, really – leave me a comment somewhere and I’ll get you a free copy to do so with. I’m starting to fish for reviews, I know. I’m just not sure what else to do at this point aside from ask.
Feeling a touch low, sorry. I’ll stop going on so. Shall make a note here once Dry Spell is released.
There was lightning. And wind. Rain pelted and walls shuddered with air surrounding as the original tone of power pulsed through all being nearby. Now, there’s only darkness. Darkness and heat. You hear a lot about darkness and cold – the combination’s used so often to generate atmosphere: chilling, desperate, evil, and fell. The lights go out and the temperature drops when spirits are near, and countless stories begin along the lines of “it was a cold winter’s night.” Perhaps I’m biased here, given where I’m from and what I have more experience in. But darkness and cold, I find, cannot generate the eerie stillness that is darkness and heat. Stifling and close, time doesn’t stop – it’s heavily medicated, minutes sluggishly oozing on while the unearthly, tense expectation of unknown mounts. A different atmosphere to the cold and dark. Under used, I think. Nothing quite like the stage between sweating and not, the odd discomfort and twitch of warmed skin as innards slowly turn, waiting, always waiting.
Power should be back on by one.