Writing news.

A Tantalizing Mystery

A mystery teases all our senses. If it is a song we can’t remember, we can still taste the words on our tongue and feel the voice in our ears even though vowels and consonants escape in the shrouds of time. If it is a movie we saw long ago, images are still burned into our minds and fuel our imaginations. Scenes, ways of speaking, faces…. All of them formulate something we used to know and is still just outside our understanding.

There is something beautiful about waiting for years before really remembering how that story ended, or how that song went. Perhaps there is a smell . . . one perfect smell . . . it makes you feel like a kid. Maybe it makes you happy for some inexplicable reason. It could make you sad, it could be another nameless scent among thousands throughout your day, but it doesn’t, it makes you happy . . . why?

Mystery is magical. We cannot comprehend a the depths of a mystery. We cannot explain it, it is magic. It’s a trick, an enigma, or a farce. It turns us into children once more, and propels us to a time when our minds could not grasp the complexities of how a car is able to turn gasoline into forward motion, or how gold is heavier than rocks, or how wind can twist trees out of the ground like they were matchsticks.

Mystery is a gift from God. He knows the answer, and still He lets us learn for ourselves the tug of the current in a creek and the warmth fire can provide.

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Writing news.

Daily Prompt: Lofty

via Daily Prompt: Lofty

The lake lapped at the gentle hillsides enclosing it. Not to say it didn’t want to be there, but to tease the sands with cold water and fill the air with soothing notes, perfectly orchestrated to ease memories from the heat of broad daylight. As the sun sinks behind the earth’s shoulder, it lights up the sky with fire beyond what is trapped on our planet, searing the clouds with burnished gold, glowing orange and a dozen shades of red and purple. But the sky never sleeps and in that one mountain lake is reflected all its glory as the night draws on. The moon shows up first, heralding the coming of a silver lights show to be witnessed by any animal gazing upward. The clearness of the night promises a glorious view.

If you walk away from the camp fire you will see for billions of miles into the black sky and the layers of stars spreading beyond what you can imagine. If you let yourself go, you can feel your heart grow wings and fly off into the starlight. No words can capture the majesty of the stars and moon in their dance nor describe what you see when you look at its reflection in the lake.

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Writing news.

A Question of World Building

A derelict cabin, surrounded by trees similar to those that build its walls. One such pine gave up the ghost and collapsed through what was left of the roof and crushed the remains of a split-rail bunk. You don’t dare go in for fear of the roof collapsing, but the walls will likely stand long after you’re dead. After all, four square(ish) corners have upheld a hundred winter snows already.

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My Books, Writing news.

It’s still free.

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Fillip bowed his head and pulled off the necklace. He hadn’t wanted to wear it, but he didn’t have much choice. It had taken a great deal of will power to put something so dangerous on his person, (an action none of his family had encouraged.) He dropped it on the bar, near the governor’s hand.

The governor picked it up and fingered it gently, realizing it was a precious gem, but not the incredible power locked within. “Why is this so special?”

“It’s a magical gem,” Fillip said with no small hesitation. “It belongs to her family and her people, but she is unable to even touch it.” Continue reading

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Creating Empires, My Books, Writing news.

The Final Confounded

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There’s a lot of excitement connected with writing. A firewood splitting redneck can become the master of men’s fates… elves’ fates… dragon’s fates… Everything put to paper is alive and breathing. Monsters under the bed become real with the most powerful skill we humans possess:  Continue reading

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