.............................Free Reads
Beloved by Erin Zarro
Some things really shouldn't be shared.
To the Waters and the Wild by Kit Campbell
Sometimes it's better not to look.
.............For You...............
Crazy Boy by KD Sarge
Selene is lacking in people skills. Luckily so is Donte.
The Dangers of Creation; or, A Machine to Rival Man by Siri Paulson
From Us............................
The Door in the Attic by Kit Campbell
Curiousity can be dangerous to more than cats.
Doomsday by Kit Campbell
Just because you're paranoid...
Year of No Fear: Photography
Continuing my Year of No Fear series, I'd like to talk about photography.
My grandfather was a photographer who had his own darkroom. I didn't know it until I began studying photography and darkroom work in college. I remember feeling amazed that he'd done the same things I was doing; that it was maybe in our blood.
I'd wanted to pair photography with my Journalism major, to make me more marketable ("hey, I can write and take my own photos!"). However, I ended up learning fine art photography instead. I absolutely loved every minute -- from the shooting, to the developing of the film, to printing my own enlargements. It was like magic, really -- you have a blank sheet of photo paper that turns into something beautiful instead. I will always love darkroom the most, no matter what I do. It's where my artistic soul feels most at home. Unfortunately, I've had to put my darkroom stuff on hold due to several different factors. (I knew that once I'd graduated from college, I would no longer have access to a darkroom. My fiancé at the time had his own darkroom and I thought, maybe I can do this. It took a lot of time, a lot of work, and a bit of magic, but my dad, my ex-husband, and I made it happen. To this day I still marvel at it. We had no contractor but managed to move an entire wall to create a little "room" for me).
Reshuffling Priorities
So remember when I was househunting? Update--we did not find the perfect house. However, we did find one we really love.
The house isn't what I envisioned when we were looking, at all. It's a condo, for one, so we share a wall with the neighbors. There's no dishwasher. The back yard is mostly concrete. It's on the other side of town from where I've lived for the past twenty-some years. (Twenty? Holy smokes!) But it works. We haven't heard a thing through the shared wall, and no one has complained to us. The kitchen has enough room for a portable dishwasher, and we found a good used one for $125. The back yard has an orange tree, and enough dirt we can plant things. It also has a brick fireplace-type-thing built in. The drive to work is about fifteen minutes unless traffic is bad--that's enough time to make it worth finding some books on CD.
Still Waters Run Deep: Part 4
A free serial story
by Siri Paulson
This is Part 4 of a serial. Previous installments are available here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The city that Payut walked through was empty and not-empty at the same time. Its wide canals and narrow streets lay vacant, free of the chaotic bustle that flickered at the edges of his memory. The people had fled, driven away by the imbalance in the five elements that sickened the land. But he was not alone.
He would turn down a street where nothing moved, but the echo of large wings faded away ahead of him. Or he would catch motion out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned, only blank windows and closed doors met his gaze. Crossing a bridge over a canal, he saw something moving under the water, long and dark, bigger than the boat he had left at the city gate while getting past the guards. It paced him until he reached the far end of the bridge, then disappeared.