Pay the man, Assaph. He doesn’t seem the sort whose bad side on which you want to be! ;-D


SM - Minis 1 - CopyAs part of Virtual FantasyCon (that awesome event where Murder In Absentia received an unprecedented five awards ;-), we did a blog hunt. Since I ran two blogs, I participated twice – and gave Felix a chance to speak for himself in one.

Of course, the bastard went ahead and started to curse me for making him work. Apparently he’s not big on doing self-promotions without immediate pay.

This post was originally published on Diane Riggins site. I’ll let you read Felix’s words for yourself.

Salve omnibus . My name is Spurius Vulpius Felix, sometimes known as Felix the Fox, though almost everybody calls me just Felix. It means Fortune’s Favourite in my language, but I’m afraid I am more like Furtuna’s favourite butt for practical jokes.

Actually, you may know my language as Latin. Years ago I visited your world, quite by accident. I came to a city named Rome…

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Undone – Day 9

October 9, 2016

I love the writing of Grace Black. It so rich and multi-layered. Reading her feels like dumping a McDonalds meal for five-star French restaurant fare! 😉

This is a helpful review of great editing tools. Anything to relieve the pain, right?

Kristen Lamb's Blog

Screen Shot 2016-06-13 at 8.51.04 AM

Hey guys, Today Nancy Lin is here to help us with what might just be THE suckiest part of writing. But part of being a great writer, is also learning to be at least a good editor. We all need professional outside eyes on our work, and Nancy is here to help you get the most bang for your buck.

Take it away, Nancy!


Editing is a necessary part of writing, but not all writers are great editors. As a writer, I find it helpful to get a second opinion, because I’m not able to see every single error. And this isn’t just me.

You might think you’re the next Shakespeare (which are pretty big shoes to fill). Once you stop basking in your own ego, you can be more realistic about your writing ability. And chances are you’re not.

Professional editors are useful, and, in some cases, they’re…

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Warriors’ Worth

May 13, 2016

Forgotten ones
The “Left behinds”
Their arc of life
Is one unkind

From the World’s
Hot zones
Return Stateside
And have no home

Averted eyes
A ragged quilt
We drop stray coin
To ease our guilt

Of honor shown
There is a dearth
We fail to own
Our warriors’ worth

Huddling round
A flaming bin
They wear their hope
Like tattered coats

And burn
Their brittle dreams
For meager proof
The cold




May 10, 2016

The words slip
Like ghosts neath a veil
Slippery and charged
Cresting the tip
Of the Wizard’s hail

In the light of science
And the shade of magic
Sound has power
To change the World-

When a black hole
Screams hunger
A light ray’s
Path curls

So the Mage makes
Great power with words
A cyclone whirls
As his magic unfurls

“Stabunt simul,
Audi vocem meam!”

(Time stand still
Obey my will!)

Over burning entrails
Incantations are dropped
Sigils wiggle and writhe
And all the World sto…


April 17, 2016

Eye Will Not Cry



The deafening silence…
Those futile gestures…
They trample feelings…
While bitterness festers…
As it’s happened before…
Now it’s started again…
And the instant replay…
Brings instant pain…
Whilst descending clouds…
Of opposite thoughts…
Bring feelings of anger…
Pointing out all the faults…
But with tension mounting…
And each anxiety attack…
Those beautiful memories…
Now fade into black…
As the cigarette burns…
It’s spinning out of control…
With a broken spirit…
And a battered soul…
Leaving nothing behind…
All senses are numb…
It feels never ending…
But it’s only just begun…
And stood in isolation…
Trying to hide away…
The teardrop won’t fall…
But the heart’s in decay…
Always battling demons…
Blocking out those voices…
Forever finger pointing…
And criticising choices…
Yet the distant thunder…
Leads to clearer thinking…
The sudden realisation…

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Quiet Town

March 13, 2016

  Cornered by

Rain soaked streets


Memory and reflection


Quiet town breathes

Moments sweet

A taste of joy

My dream complete


Painting: “Quiet Town” Leonid Afremov

Alan W. King

(IMAGE: New Issues)

You’ve seen that movie or read the novel, the one where the ending blindsided you. The hero or heroine, for whom you rooted throughout the drama, was either captured or killed. Or maybe it was another story with an ending that left you hanging.

In either case you left the theater or closed the pages, slightly disappointed. But that didn’t stop you from dreaming up alternate endings for your satisfaction.

That’s what Rachel Eliza Griffiths does with Mule & Pear (New Issues, 2011), her third collection of poetry. “Many of these poems convey the intimacy I’ve developed and sustained through reading,” Rachel writes in a brief introduction. “From this act and all of its powers, my imagination gathered some of my most admired literary characters and their creators in one space, one intricate body…in hopes that each voice would make its way towards other voices.”


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less but better

Recently I listened to a podcast interview with Bryan Johnson (founder of payment processing company Braintree) and his new venture called OS Fund is quite inspiring.  Even more so, it was his view of the world as an operating system that got me thinking…

To the layman, an operating system is essentially a set of rules that govern how a computer system runs, basically the interface between software and hardware.  If in this analogy humans represent software and the earth represents hardware, then the rules in between would be considered the operating system.  Therefore, these rules would govern the use of our planetary resources similar to computing resources within the hardware.

Following this comparison, imagine a proto-Earth as inflexible hardware only capable of running a basic operating system with limited capability.  This primitive hardware would restrict the type of software (life) that could run on it, if any at all.  As hardware capabilities improve, so…

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Words, Alone

March 3, 2016

A Certain Point of View

No tingled touch
Upon bare skin.
No toss of hair;
Or playful grin.
These words, alone, to woo.

No eyes to meet,
Or silence break.
No hand to hold,
Or breath to take.
These words, alone, to woo.

No stolen glance
Or moments miss.
No lips to touch,
Or nape to kiss.
Words, alone, to woo.

No whispered wants
Or breathy hush.
No caress
Or soaring rush.
Words, alone, to woo.

No midnight madness
Guilt to cleanse.
Falling quickly;
More than friends.

No joy.
No pain.
Fleeting there
And back again.
My words, alone.
For you.


Picture credit:

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