tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-254920382011-11-28T10:48:59.999-08:00Reality is so boring. How about we all pretend we're centaurs!Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.comBlogger121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-34590492450988224842007-06-09T10:24:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:26:03.644-07:00

“Steve?” “I’m busy.” “Want to hear a joke?" "No.” “Of course you do. Everyone loves jokes." "Yours suck." "Mine are unique." "Yours are the only jokes I know that make me angry. Now get back to work." "Why didn’t the chicken cross the road?" " ..........................." "Come on, your dyin’ to know!" " .............................. .............. " "

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-27179565086350629982007-06-09T10:22:00.000-07:002007-06-09T11:00:36.146-07:00

If one could see through the fog to the sky above it, they would have only seen it painted thick with a brooding grayness, a low, dreary coat that blotted out the sun’s saving rays and the glorious sapphire blue that was the breath of God. But visions of blue were rare here, the ocean’s breath obscured it so often. The land, lost in heavy fog for weeks at a time, reviled the sea and her incessant

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-79229193196652281422007-06-09T10:13:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:21:44.686-07:00

In the year 2187 the earth is quiet. Humans are banned from its surface, blamed for the impending disasters assured by global warming. Instead life is lived in Vision Capsules, where the mind is linked to the Googleplane, a computer generated world that mimics the lost one. It is a future where mankind has lost the ability to physically do anything for themselves, where artificial intelligence

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-59025647014559259562007-06-09T10:10:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:13:04.014-07:00

As William pulled on his robe he tried to clear his mind of all destructive thoughts. His eyes closed, his hands tugged on the purple linen stohl that he draped over his shoulders, letting it fall easily down the front of his broad chest to his feet far below. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud that shook the house, followed by a desperate moaning that seemed to come from all

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-73333616125956888402007-06-09T10:08:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:10:17.529-07:00

The walk up through the forests on the outskirts of Cimmeria was difficult. The trees grew so thick and the ground so treacherous that Conan and his young thief Grunelda led the horse by the rein for miles. Grunelda passed the time talking. Conan passed the time listening. He was not a man who spoke freely, but his eyes saw much of what the world missed. For all his suffering his reward was

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-42128986257600673782007-06-09T10:02:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:06:41.380-07:00

The owl watches the man slip through the busy camp. A hooded man wide shouldered and of thick limbs, he moves casually and is little noticed by the warriors. The owl’s eyes, fashioned by the gods to glimpse the mouse hidden, catch now the flash of a hand or the languid sweep of an arm as the passing figure steals what it wishes. Iced rain begins to fall again, pelting soggy ground churned into

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-2854106783058360442007-06-09T09:05:00.000-07:002007-06-09T09:53:14.239-07:00

Roland stood on the outskirts of the town with his saddle draped over his shoulder, the heat of the sun baking his skin into leather. The Mexican desert had nearly killed him. The cluster of buildings he saw shimmering ahead looked thirstier than he was, but he hadn't seen man nor beast since...since before Betsy died. One foot in front of the other he stumbled onward until the town lost its

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-1160609323033229172007-05-11T16:07:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:30:18.188-07:00

The city of Westland has more buildings than it does people these days. It’s many spires tower over it's mammoth walls and lose themselves against the looming black granite mountains that rise behind the city. Stretching for miles on either side flows low rolling farmland, so that from on high the once regal city stands out like an red ruby floating in a sea of vibrant green. Two hundred years

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-1146287465939021382007-04-28T22:10:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:30:36.652-07:00

“ Grandpa’s coming over to read you a story.”“ Oh no, mom! I’m sick, I’ll probably just fall asleep on him. Or even worse, he’ll fall asleep on me!”“ Mason - just humor him. He’s your grandpa! Ooh, here he comes. Be nice!”“ Ugh.”“ Well helloooooo! How’s the turtle today? A bird told me he was sick, so I came fast as I could!“ You didn’t have to.”“ Oh sure I did! When your 8 years old, the best

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-1145562534853005912007-04-20T12:46:00.000-07:002007-06-09T10:30:55.249-07:00

I remember feeling the sunlight once. They say it was the sun, though all I can remember was a golden streak of warmth that found it’s way through the ceiling of the cell I lay in. I watched the twirling performers dance through the beam, each one with only a second on the stage. My eye followed every one. When you are the only spectator you must watch every dance, for the tumblers know you are

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-1144539383163438072006-04-08T15:36:00.000-07:002007-06-09T09:52:22.213-07:00

“ They’re coming!,” shouted a man running down the hill wildly, his arms waving around like he was trying to take off and fly over the town.“ They’re coming...the bandits...run!” Everyone gasped and headed in different directions, mothers gathering up their children, men arming themselves. For weeks the news had spread that there was a menace coming down out of the mountains and ravaging the

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25492038.post-1144277748038804882006-04-05T15:52:00.000-07:002007-06-09T09:55:40.089-07:00

Greetings all! I am creating this blog as a repository for my study of fantasy and mythological creatures and characters. As an aspiring writer I wanted to create a place where fantasy fans like myself could exchange ideas and information on all of the things that make fantasy the most inspiring category of writing there is!So, dig in, read up, and don't hesitate to give me your thoughts!

Shanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08728409097850907265noreply@blogger.com0