The Freedom Giver

“Artists of a large and wholesome vitality get rid of their art easily, as they breathe easily or perspire easily. But in artists of less force, the thing becomes a pressure, and produces a definite pain, which is called the artistic temperament.” – G.K. Chesterton

spring runs from mountain to mountain
igniting the snow with the dawn
and the snow pours down its sides
gushing like crystal wax
ahead of the green & gold
lifting up its voice
in echo

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Breaking Broken

Last night I saw a student production of The Tempest.

I’d never read the play, but knew it featured a shipwreck and a character named Ariel, as well as (in this case) a circus interpretation.  Usually, I try to read the play first: my synapses take a while to sync with the nuances of Shakespeare’s words.  But, as I did not have a chance to read the play beforehand, I sat back and tried to track the flow of the narrative instead.

At first, I hated Prospero.

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Interview: Of Darling Wrens

You know how there are some people you talk with for a few moments, and you inexplicably feel like you’ve known them all their lives?  That’s pretty much how my friendship with Annie Hawthorne (my petname for her is Cinthy, since she reminds me of hyacinth flowers) started: we clicked right off the bat.  Since then, we’ve exchanged writing and talked on the phone, I’ve adopted her as my dragonkeeper, and we ramble on about all sorts of things.  And now, at long last, she’s launched a blog!  EEEEEEEE!  I’m delighted to be able to introduce her to you guys today, and to point you to a lovely new site soon to be filled with perusals and things. ^_^  So, without further ado, read the interview and bookmark her blog!

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Beautiful People – August 2013 – Double Feature

Cowriting can be a pretty darn awesome experience.  In fact, pretty much all of my ventures into cowriting have been very darn awesome.  Probably because my cowriters are awesome.  And the co-creator of this story is definitely awesome.  You can tell because of the repetition for emphasis in the logical syllogism.  *cough*

The story started when my friend Mark went, “Hey, there’s this superhero story on Holy Worlds, you should see about it,” and then kept poking me nicely because I like things but I also forget about them.   It’s a symptom of cookie deficiency.  Anyway.  Eventually he brilliantly wondered aloud in chat if our superheroes knew each other, and…well…a story started poking less nicely.  Because this story is the sort of story that makes authors cry.  And laugh.

Hopefully, readers will feel the same too.  Eventually.  As part of the development, we enrolled two characters into the questionnaire called “Beautiful People.”  Mark answered the questions for The Dreamer, and I for Lance – who are currently from the same overall story, but different books.  Currently.  All of this is experimental science, so expect data fluctuations/variations in the final product.

Also of interest – neither of us picked ‘good guys’ this time around.  Manipulating people’s mind’s and–well, you’ll see.


Continue reading Beautiful People – August 2013 – Double Feature

Poets are toddlers

I am convinced that poets are toddlers in a cathedral, slobbering on wooden blocks and piling them up in the light of the stained glass. We can hardly make anything beautiful that wasn’t beautiful in the first place. We aren’t writers, but gleeful rearrangers of words whose meanings we can’t begin to know. When we manage to make something pretty, it’s only so because we are ourselves a flourish on a greater canvas. That means there’s no end to the discovery. We may crawl around the cathedral floor for ages before we grow up enough to reach the doorknob and walk outside into a garden of delights. Beyond that, the city, then the rolling hills, then the sea. And when the world of every cell has been limned and painted and sung, we lie back on the grass, satisfied that our work is done. Then, of course, the sun sets and we see above us the dark dome of glittering stars.

On and on it goes, all the way to the lightless borderlands of time and space, which we come to discover in some future age are but the beginnings or endings of a single word spoken from the mouth of God. Some nights, while I traipse down the hill, I imagine that word isn’t a word at all, but a burst of laughter.

– Andrew Peterson

One reason that…

One reason that people have artist’s block is that they do not respect the law of dormancy in nature. Trees don’t produce fruit all year long, constantly. They have a point where they go dormant. And when you are in a dormant period creatively, if you can arrange your life to do the technical tasks that don’t take creativity, you are essentially preparing for the spring when it will all blossom again.

– Marshall Vandruff