Yes, I am that author.
But actually, Twitter has a really good community of authors, editors, and artists. I love that about it.
But I do need to get back to posting about writing. Tumblr flash fiction doesn’t quite cover that. So here I am. Back. From outer space.
(10 points for everyone who laughed at my song reference.)
To get my re-emergence started, here’s a thing I wrote recently that ended up pretty cool. It’s a bit of fluff for a game world my friend and I designed.
The starsea is a sort of flat-world system with islands that float in a sea of stardust. It has two moons, a whole pantheon of gods and goddesses, and a strong seafaring culture between all the worlds. There are exotic lands, flying islands, and stardust monsters the likes of which few see, and still return to tell the tale.
“If anything’s to be said about the starsea, it should be that nothing else in all the worlds is so good at turning a simple man into a poet. At making a pauper feel royal, or filling a child’s mind with dreams of glorious possibilities.
The way it looks serene, but teems with perilous beasts. How it carries the living, but consumes the dead. Just like the queen of the gods, the Starsea is full of dualities. It’s a reflection of divinity.
I wasn’t a poet. I guess I still ain’t, cept when I’m up in the crows nest, and the stardust sparkles in the light of the moons. When all around me is quiet and crystalline and goes on forever.
I can’t help feeling that my words won’t do justice to the vastness and majesty of that space between spaces. I don’t know as anyone’s could. But that’s the thing about the starsea: it makes you try anyway.
It fills you with a longing for far off places, and unseen sights. It makes you want to write all the words that ain’t never been written, and sing all the songs that ain’t never been sung. It takes you right up to the end of reality itself, and then, once you’ve seen the edge of all things, its currents carry you safely back home again.”
—Midshipman Freddie Stoneward, A.C.N. Valiant, 1867 BICR