This is a follow on collection from Windswept. In this collection I will examine the concept of love from a more ethereal perspective.

❝i've delicately chosen letters to form words and words to form sentences, each sentence a colorful paint stroke on the canvas of my mind.❞ [ #1 in poetry on 27/08/16 ]

So, my best friend thinks she doesn't matter and the world would be better off without her. So, this is me proving her wrong. I've taken an oath that I'll write her a poem or a short piece every day until she believes me. This will contain all I've ever written for a brilliant, wonderful person. She's a mess, but she's my mess.

Need help with your writing?  Want support, feedback, editing or anything else? Stuck on a story - with no idea how to get un-stuck (and yes, I think we just made up a word)? That's okay, because We Three Dreamers can help your dreams come true ;P  We may not help solve your life's problems or mend a bad relationship, but we can help your main character find the man of his dreams, or learn to control their actions and feelings. You can read our helpful tips, or even send us what you're stuck on and we will help you get going again.  And may all of your wildest ideas come true.

The Writer's Resource includes guides, lists, and how to's for just about everything! Need a name for your character? Do you need some help on how to write, say, your southern character? The Writer's Resource has everything you need, and if it doesn't simply comment and we will compose something to your liking. ~A source made about writing, for writers.

It is often said that writing is a skill that is never truly mastered. This is a fact. We learn and grow each and every day in our writing. Maybe it is a tip we read, a word we learned, a video we saw, or just simply a critique we received that helps us grow that day but we learned something and will in some way apply it to our writing. This book is my way of putting the tips and prompts I have left on my profile page in one place. I will add more as well. Enjoy! Happy Writing!

A few writing lessons I picked up here and there by reading, talking to other authors, often learning the hard way (by embarrassing myself) and occasionally advice from professionals. Everything here is presented as-is and is subject to change with no notice--or whenever I realize how silly something I said was. A lot of this is simply reminders to myself of things to remember and/or look out for.

Erato, ancient keeper of the golden arts . Whisper tales from eons lost. Remind us mortals of stories lost throughout the ages ,remembered only by you,the muses.

A madman puts to parchment the doom of all creation. His black book tells a grim and hopeless history, of grand efforts gone awry and a future that can no longer be stopped. What he writes would drive sanity from the wise and kill the souls of the faithful, revealing their every hope for desperate lies. One being alone has withstood this Truth. That one is a misbegotten thing that has feasted and starved and suffered for uncountable ages. The black book speaks Vandal, the Witch of the Murk. She will push back the Horrors and a noble kingdom will rise. It speaks of the champion Valkyrie. By her hand will miracles be wrought, to bring justice against the greatest darkness known. It speaks of them, but it says only that each is a mere pawn. The Truth is that no man or woman is anything more than a game piece, moved by nightmares given form in the fathomless abyss. Blasphemies beyond imagining flow from the pen of the madman. Even he is ignorant of the Truth he records, for the words are not his own. Every passage comes to him from a great and tortured beast, feeding forever on the living and the dead. It feasts upon its own flesh and starves. Feasting and starving, starving and feasting, through bleak eternity. Hunger, and agony, and terrible fear... ...for eons. - Visit this book's website at VandalValkyrie.com or my own site at Ringwyrm.com -

They say the world used to turn. They say that night would follow day in an endless dance. They say that dawn rose, dusk fell, and we worshiped both sun and stars. That was a long time ago. The dance has died. The world has fallen still. We float through the heavens, one half always in light, one half always in shadow. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, we are torn. My people are the fortunate. We live in daylight, blessed in the warmth of the sun. Yet across the line, the others lurk in eternal night, afraid... and alone in the dark. I was born in the light. I was sent into darkness. This is my story.