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ladyofbrileith's profile
AGE:
34
LOC: Carson City, NV
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: June 26
LOC: Carson City, NV
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: June 26
I write fairytales. I suppose I should state that up front. Oh, I write poetry and memoir and urban fantasy and romance and mystery as well, but even through those, the fairytales dance. I’ve recently been described as a person who writes “immersion stories” and the description stuck in my head. That’s what I want to do, at least. Pull you in, make you forget for a while about everything else but the world I’ve created and brought you to.
I’m working on a novel at the moment that reimagines an old Irish fairytale, and have several others outlined and ready to go when this one is done which do the same. My short stories are generally urban fantasy, though I do brush over more realism as well, on occasion.
I’m currently plumb…
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The world looks different through the viewfinder of a camera. It forces you to focus in on what you want to frame. Gives you a chance to tell a story that might look different than when you are forced to acknowledge the surrounding noise. If you don’t focus properly, the background can outweigh the subject of the photo. When you look just with your eyes, you selectively focus often without thought. You weed things out subconsciously until the world moves in the way you expect it to. If you wa...
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The mist pulls at her angrily, Surrounding her. Blocking her path. She does not yield, pushing farther into The darkened forest. The heather surrenders Underneath her feet as she nears the place. The mist turns kind, caressing, seducing. Teasing at her cheeks, her neck, her lips, Leaving its cold mark wherever it reaches. She enters the clearing. Looks up at the tower. Its walls seem higher than heaven, Its foundation rooted in hell. No light shines forth from its windows. No sound disturbs t...
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Soft wind caresses the leaves casting dark shadows that dance across the sunlit hills. Screams echo through the air, but with joy, not the terror of the week past. Children, in innocence protected from the pain the country feels, run through the trees, racing for the swings, the slide, the monkey-bars. Their scooters roll down the hills, tumbling them to the ground to laugh in leaves. Adults, eyes red from the nation’s tears, watch closely. Thoughts of the children not playing today--many gri...
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Sparkling droplets tremble on the edges Of the rose you left behind. It stands guard In its lonely crystal vase. The pages I write are streaked with the tears of this bard. Without you standing near, the world has filled With darkness. The dance stopped. Birds don’t sing. The soul you awakened from sleep, you’ve killed With your goodbye. I’m left with just your ring. The fear of loss can be worse than loss Itself, as it gnaws on the secret soul. My nightmare ends as you walk in the room, Wrap...
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Across the emerald moonlit glade, laughing The children of Danu play. The Fields of Man are memories damned by their dancing, Their singing, their poetry and their love. The leaves of the willows shake in the breeze Of their passing, welcoming them back home. The river smiles and turns toward the far seas Telling its tidings ‘til lost in the foam. The moon begins her slow retreat downward, Sinking lower and lower, moving toward Another land, another time. The fairies Look to the horizon, wish...
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I like the switch and the last two stanzas a lot, though I'm not quite sure how they match up to the earlier imagery. The early imagery is very sparse, and yet it gets the image across, which I really like, but...there just seems to be a disconnect between the first half and the second where I'm not following you.
I think you have an interesting premise here, and the change that goes on from it being a traditional Thanksgiving to something a lot darker is intriguing. The format doesn't really work for me, though. I prefer things to have quotation marks and be properly formatted, and I think you could have a better diffentiation in voice. How many speakers are there? I could only tell when it was the cook because they were talking about food preparation. When you are writing a piece that is solely dialo...
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