All Good Things Come To An End

Sadly, yes, dear readers, all good things do come to an end, and for this particular corner of the blogosphere, that time has come. If you are one of the few still reading this, you know how sporadic and intermittent my posts have been of late. College is requiring more and more of my time, leaving little for other activities, and among them blogging has always ranked low.

As a writing blog, this blog depends on how much I write, and with sparse amounts of time for writing, little writing gets done. So instead of me dragging my feeble posts on until one day they simply drop dead and never come back, I shall lay them to rest with some scrap of honor left.

But all is not lost! For come November, and the ubiquitous NaNoWriMo, there exists a strong possibility of a brief resurgence of updates, outlines and the like.

Until then, I bid you all a fond farewell, and will always keep in my heart the memories, comments and wonderful bookish friends I have made during my tenure as a blogger.

Stay strong, dear ones, and may your quills never run dry!

Attack of the Bog o' Swords

*evil grin* Or Blog Awards.

Because we all know I need an excuse to put anything up here these days...

Anyways, Charley R over in her Leaning Tower of Terror Plot decided to break her normal rule (hah!) about doing blog awards and then decided that in the spirit of breaking rules she would not pass it onto anyone in particular, but instead open it up to the entirety of her readership.

And me, after a mercifully almost homework free Saturday, decided to take her up on it. *evil chuckle to match previous evil grin*

Ze questionz are as followz:

(1) Has a piece of music ever given you a headache? If so, what was it? If not, what was the closest thing?

Every time a car drives past with its speakers up so loud the chassis is actually rattling. It's usually a rap song consisting of ten words, four of which are unfit to be spoken. *rant over*

2) Do you like pens, pencils, or word processor better?

An interesting question, seeing as I'm not sure myself. Most of my writing is done on my laptop, so quantitatively, a word processor. However, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for pencils, as the callouses on my ring and middle fingers on my right hand can attest to. At the same time, as a architectural student, most of my notes are actually in sharpie permanent marker... so it's a hopeless mess.

(3) Out of the last five books you’ve read, what character was your favorite?

 Oh, goodness. What were the last five books I read? *five-minute mental computing break. Mutterings about syllabi and textbooks and powerpoints* Well, over Christmas break I read On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, which was an awesomely fun read (and the first fiction I had read in over a year). And in that book I met Peet the Sock Man, who covers his arms with socks to keep the blades that grow there from being seen. That's the kind of man he is.

(4) Out of the last five movies you’ve seen, what character was your favorite?

Javert, from Les Miserables. Hands down. If I could sing (which I can't [in public]), I would love to act him in a play. The man who would stop at nothing to bring justice to the guilty, and became so fixated on his task that when mercy was granted him could not bear it. The perfect hero, who ended up on the wrong side as the villain instead.

Stars 

In your multitudes 

Scarce to be counted 

Filling the darkness 

With order and light 

You are the sentinels 

Silent and sure
Keeping watch in the night 

Keeping watch in the night 

(5) What’s your favorite genre to write?

Fantasy. And its many variations, such as steampunk. When the world is yours to shape, and the rules yours to make, there is no greater freedom. Still, the best story I've written is more dystopian than anything, with perhaps some sic-fi. Hardly fantasy. So I don't know.

(6) Is that your favorite genre to read?

Yup. Ultimately, I like a good book, whatever genre it is. But discovering new lands, creatures, customs, races... that is my favorite thing to experience in a book

(7) When was the last time you wished your library bought more good books, more often?

Last time I went to the library, which was about a month ago. Now, it was my college library, and I was looking for Les Miserables... so it's ever so slightly understandable. I haven't been to any of the libraries in town since I moved out here for college.

Interestingly enough, I wished that the local Goodwill had a better and bigger selection of belts, suspenders and hat racks the other day... You'd think the capital of the state would have a bigger Goodwill than my hometown did...

(8) Do you write with music or not?

Almost always. But silence has its merits, as I discovered last year during NaNoWriMo. You can check that post for an exhaustive list of what music I normally listen to while writing.

More recently my writing has been limited to sleepless nights of scriptwriting, listening to the haunting music my friend composed for Shadowland. (Check it out here!)

(9) Do you outline? If so, what method do you use?

Ha. Ha ha. Maybe....

See, its a sorta-kinda thing. I have a method.

Which I thought I had written a post about some time ago... and so went looking for it so I could link it here and save me some typing...

All I got was an awesome trip down memory lane :D.

Anyways, I got bored of making bullet points out of plot lines a long time ago, and have since developed my own way of keeping track of where the story will go without locking myself into a set path.

I was so sure I had already blogged about this!... Guess I'll have to now! Look for a post soon! Suffice for now to say that yes, I do outline, but in a very particular way.

(10) About what book or movie are you the geekiest, especially in public?

Definitely The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Seeing as that's the one most people talk about, giving me plenty of opportunities to geek out. Other contenders might be Doctor Who (which isn't a book or movie, technically), and Sherlock Holmes (All of them: books, BBC and recent films)

That's all folks! Till next time (which there will hopefully be),

Farjag

Shadowland

Once upon a time, last August to be precise, I wrote a poem based on a concept borrowed from C.S. Lewis. The idea of earth as a Shadowland of heaven. Well, after writing the poem, I went on to do a series of lithographs inspired by the same idea. That was in the middle of last semester. And the idea still wouldn't stop knocking around in my head.

About a month ago I began to ask my college friends if anyone was interested in making a movie. I got enough interest to warrant me writing a script, but didn't have any solid ideas. Until late one night, after several hours of sleepless tossing and turning, God gave me the nudge to start writing. So after scrounging out my old glasses I sat in front of my laptop in the dark of a room lit only by its screen; and began to write. Two hours later I had finished a seven page script across which were scattered the verses of the poem I had written months earlier. A few days and helpful critiques (thanks, Director!) later I had a finalized script. 

And we filmed it, less than a week later. And now, exactly one week after filming day, I present you the finished product: Shadowland.

The Music of the Light

Let me tell you a story. Or, rather, let me retell you a story.

The year is 1881, the place the Opera Populaire. A young girl named Christine has just replaced the Opera's leading lady and enchants the proprietors with her beautiful voice. But someone else hears her too, a mysterious figure with a masked face known only as the Phantom. He is enthralled with her music, but cannot bring himself to speak to her. The weeks pass and Christine continues to see him peering from the shadows, always watching, always afraid. Finally her curiosity gets the better of her and she follows him down beneath the opera to his wretched abode, a ramshackle dwelling among cast off set pieces and abandoned furniture. Even though his shame is so great that he drives her away, she pities him and continues to venture down to the dark underbowels to visit him in his dark existence. When she discovers that the only way he will ever listen to her is through song, she begins to sing, pouring out her heart in a beautiful melody of hope and light. And this is what she sang:

Night time fades and, waken each sensation
Darkness flee, and stir imagination
Silently commence to abandon your defense

Slowly, sturd’ly, dawn unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, reach it, powerful yet tender
Turn your face away from the shadows oh so gray
Turn your thoughts away from cold and silent night
And listen to the music of the light

Come away and leave behind your darkest dreams
Wash yourself of the life you knew before
Come with me, let your spirit start to soar
You will live as you've never lived before

Strongly, sharply, music shall empower you
Hear it, grasp it, let it now awake you
Open up your mind, leave those nightmares behind
Draw closer to the flame you cannot fight
The fires of the music of the light

Let your mind start a journey in this strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before
Let your soul take you where you long to be
Only then can you truly be free

Leaping, running, sweet intoxication
Hold it, trust it, savor each sensation
Let your life begin, let your older self dive in
To the power of the music in your sight
The power of the music of the light

He alone can make your song take flight
Let Him sing the music of the light!

Tonight

Tonight is the night.

The night all the work is done.

The night when the lights dim, the music starts and a story unfolds.

Tonight was the premiere of Ironwing.

Note: The url at the end of the trailer is to a private blog. Attempts to hack will be shot down by acid firing laser robots.  :P

The Tale worth Telling

Two-thousand years ago, on a quiet night in a small country town, with the lights of the big city shining in the distance, several homeless men sat silently around a tiny fire, content to let alone and leave alone the world around them.

That was before the sky above them ripped open as a window into another dimension split across the starry skywall. And framed in the glorious light spilling from the crack stood a powerful being the likes of which they had never seen. Fear clutched at their hearts and terror shot through their knees. But the words this being spoke calmed them as easily as oil calms a turbid wave.

"Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger."

And no sooner had he finished than the entire sky disappeared behind a sheet of blinding light as an army thousands upon thousands sprang in existence and began to chant with a noise like rushing waters:

"Glory to God in the highest! And on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!"

With that they were gone, and the darkness of the night settled slowly back over the hills, leaving those awestruck men in silence. It only took a hurried conversation for them to decide what they must do. And leaving behind all that was familiar to them, they set out to find what had been told of.

And they found it, several miles away, in a tiny cave tucked into a rocky hillside. A donkey and a few sheep huddled in the back, their stalls taken over by an exhausted couple and their feeding trough by a newborn baby. 

The humblest of beginnings for the greatest of all kings.

The smallest of abodes for the most powerful of all rulers.

The lowest among men witnessed the birth of the Highest.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen! (and ladies)!