flax-golden tales: tiny cathedrals
tiny cathedrals I will build tiny cathedrals in your name. Constructing each by hand to be certain that their foundations are sound. Time may weather them. It will not matter. If one falls, I
tiny cathedrals I will build tiny cathedrals in your name. Constructing each by hand to be certain that their foundations are sound. Time may weather them. It will not matter. If one falls, I
I am so deep in Revisionland it’s absurd. I am attempting to finish this draft by the end of the month, which is reasonable, but means the rest of the month is going to
mightier than the sword There is a movement happening, a quiet one. A low-profile, low-resolution revolution. Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas. Those with something to say. They communicate through
Nathan Bransford’s post on “Lost” and the High Narrative Price of WTF. Nails a lot of my lingering LOST issues. My new Droid Incredible is my friend. My fancypants friend who confuses me with
back in the day My grandmother tells me stories about the way things were when she was young. Mostly they’re about all the things that I have that she didn’t have, or how things
Revisionland has destroyed my ability to blog, have you noticed? Probably because it means I’m typing most of the day, so then when I go to blog my brain thinks “More typing? Can’t we