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I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went --- and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
Lord Byron, "Darkness"

I am a writer of words, a teller of tales. I write original fiction, fan fiction, poetry, essays, and screenplays. I'm an admitted Anglophile, with a love for tea by fires curled up with a good book, and a weakness for accents, especially if they're being murmured in my ear. Of course, I don't have a fireplace, or anyone with an accent murmuring in my ear, but we all have to make do. ;-)

This journal is friends only due to first publication issues. Most of what I post here will be original writing I'm someday hoping to publish, and I don't want to run into the dilemma of having already "published" it on the internet. In addition, story musings, ideas for future novels and such are all things I would prefer not to have out there for others to potentially snag. If you would like to read, please comment and let me know who you are and where you know me from. There's not much here about my personal life beyond my writing woes and exploits in trying to get published. There likely will be a great deal on the nature of myth and the dilemmas in attempting to update it for a modern audience.

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