Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Long Reads - Blog Posts
THE ENDING? HELLO?!
My dear, I will read your book.
Best believe I will not criticise the flow of words for I know they are born out of the heart. I will read despite the timeskips and flawed main couples, I will memorize your difficult pages despite their jaggedy flow.
But my dear, first you must bring me the book.
Write, my darling. The hypothetical reader in your mind is as inaccurate as one can be— for the reader that I am, all I need is words.
But you must write first, my darling. Do it for me
I'm your reader
Trying to understand the only Spanish book I have in my possession: el sombrero de tres picos
It is so satisfying to have done all my homework during the holiday and having a little bite of free time during the week. Maybe I will finally finish this book!
Me: I'm going to finish that book today.
My non-book friend: It's six hundred pages and you just bought it.
Aşk sadece bakışmak, konuşman, gülmek Ve saire değil,aşk yaralarını da sarmakdır...
As you dive deeper into the chosen fate of your career, I hope you find the unexpected happiness and blessings in every step you take. ✨
HALF WERE TANGLED UP BEFORE THEY KNEW AND THE OTHER HALF ACTUALLY FOLLOWED THE TOUR GUIDE WHEN SEEN TOO MUCH TOO OFTEN IN ORDER TO BEAT AND STEAL. THOSE THAT FOLLOWED USUALLY GRABBED A PACK OF FRIENDS TO ASSIST WITH THE BEATING BEFORE. THOSE TANGLED UP USUALLY DIFFERENT PARADIGM BUT FIGHTING LIKE HELL IS HARD TO EXPLAIN ALL ASPECTS OF SHORTLY
BELOVED by TONI MORRISON (REVIEW)
quickly: a self-emancipated woman is tormented by her past long after she’s made it to freedom (an ex-slave who has slavery living inside of her / children born in the shadow of trauma / a grandmother who can smell the future on the wind / jealous daughters who speak their minds / a house haunted by the dead / stolen milk and blessed berries / blood magic / the deep dark evil of slavery)
what a wild, lush, furious nightmare of a story. this is the story of Sethe, how she escaped slavery, and how she ended up in a house haunted by the ghost of a dead child. this is truly a southern gothic horror tale in every sense. there are psychological and physical traumas, some obtained from slavery and its perpetrators, some obtained from attempts at resisting slavery. there is magic, not the stereotypical “voodoo/hoodoo”, but something older, darker, and less defined. there’s injustice, southern lands, hard times, etc. at first, toni’s writing is like a dense forest, but once you find your footpath, the journey will carry you forward.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
more thoughts: SPOILERS!
Some personal context… I’ve been on the hunt for truly thrilling stories that take my breath away and Toni Morrison’s work did more than that. This read was preceded by “The Haunting of Hill House” by Shirley Jackson. I chose it based on it being a classic of gothic horror, a sub-genre I love. I was disappointed by its lack of thrill, passion, or anything, other than Eleanor’s unraveling.
Enter Toni Morrison. This is my first read by the late and great author, and it couldn’t have been any more perfect of an introduction for me. I’ll never hear “southern gothic” without thinking of BELOVED, which should be the staple of the genre (sorry, not sorry, Shirley J.). Rarely have I heard this work referred to as such. (If I had, I probably would’ve read it earlier.) I almost feel ‘honored’ to have read this book, though I’m not sure why. Maybe something to do with this incredible black writer penning a story so beautifully terrifying that people forget to call it ‘horror’. Maybe because she met and exceeded what I expected, exceeded what popular culture has had me to expect, and embodied that uniqueness that comes with being called Great.
We begin in a mess of spite and timelines. A blurred view of the world, and everyone in it. From 124, the home at the center of the story, we meet Sethe and the rest of her family who are, and are not there. We are given a brief survey of all that has occurred or been endured, from people running away to a haunting being born from the death of a child. Then, Paul D, a man she hasn’t seen in years, has found his way to her.
Time is layered in this story… at times in the present, at times in the past, sometimes glimpsing the future. Morrison moves through lives and their perspectives in a God-like fashion, without warning, but with the knowledge of all things that have occurred or will come. The way she gives details and expounds on storylines can be unsettling, at first, like coming into a dense and thick forest. Without some studying of what lies before you, it can be easy to get lost. She is a writer who gives glimpses of things before unveiling a fuller truth that towers and shadows and swallows. Sometimes these glimpses of the plot can seem like you missed something, but, artfully, the revelations in future pages have a way of connecting past pages, to form a continuous story.
From behind the eyes of Sethe, her daughter Denver, and Paul D (Sethes old friend and new lover), we come to know the history of Sweet Home (the plantation the family is from) and the history of the people who left it. Through their memories and inner reflections, they relay all we need to know about who they are and why.
In short, they belonged to “good” white people, but things changed when their owner died and others came in to rule over them. Going from being treated like dogs, to being treated like less than that, prompted them to head to freedom. Most of the core trauma of this story is sourced in that transitional period between their old master passing away and them becoming their own masters out of desperation and survival.
Throughout this story, poetically, are piercing observations, questions, and philosophical dilemmas about slavery and the white supremacy and capitalism supporting it. Toni illustrates quite sharply how monstrous this process of dehumanization is, and how profoundly evil these acts of violence were. So evil in fact, it seemed to spread throughout the entire white race, able to make itself disappear and become known at any time, even in the most “good” of whites. It is an evil so big it seems impossible to have existed (and still exist). Like its appearance should have ended the world, like some demonic apocalyptic revelation from The Bible. (A Bible that has not served the slaves well, and Toni captures this black theological resentment perfectly.)
One of the most disheartening moments is when Grandma Suggs, renowned backwoods high priestess, forgoes her ‘gift’ of preaching. After living a tormented life and finally making it to a place where she is hers, she was collapsed by the intrusion of white men into her seemingly sanctified space. Their privileged appearance and sudden disruption cause Grandma Suggs to question all of existence, finally realizing, that there is no promised land. There are no sacred spaces for them. Maybe no God for them either. She forgoes preaching and spends the rest of what little time she has, thinking about colors. Something she never had time to do as a slave. When asked if she was “punishing God” by not preaching his word, she responds, “Not like He punish me”.
Sethe is troubled by the child that she killed, a child that has haunted 124 since she died. Paul D is able to rid the house of the spirit, but that only leads to it manifesting in physical form… a girl named Beloved. She appears out of the river one day, sick and dying, and Sethe nurses her back to life. After gaining strength, Beloved proceeds to wreak havoc on relationships and resources. It takes Denver, Sethe’s daughter, to gather the community to rid the house of Beloved, the beautiful demon born of crimes against the flesh.
That is the story. And I am reducing it to fumes for the point of this commentary, but it is such a rich reading I’m not really spoiling anything. This brief summarization and my recounting of a fraction of my reflections is pale compared to the full color of Morrison’s masterpiece.
Also, I must say, the Everyman’s Library binding is BEAUTIFUL and comes with useful chronologies and a short biography of the author—and it is well bound! So much better than the penguin hardcovers I see in the library sometimes, which are often too tightly sewn. Just a random note.
And again, I am HONORED to have read such a masterful work of horror and to have experienced this world built by Toni Morrison’s words. There’s an Everyman’s Library hardcover Song of Solomon, so maybe I’ll read that soon.
DRIVE YOUR PLOW OVER THE BONES OF THE DEAD by OLGA TOKARCZUK (REVIEW)
quickly: the death of a woman’s neighbor reveals the fury of mother nature (a ‘crazy old woman’ with ailments and astrology / estranged neighbors / friends who make life easier / blood in the snow / small town gossip / dreams of the dead / the will of man vs. nature).
how much of the natural world can an old, country, polish woman try to save on her own? Mrs. Duszejko doesn’t eat meat and is almost at an age where she can’t survive a hard winter alone. she lives outside of town, with two other neighbors and only a handful of visitors. after one of her neighbors is found dead, she begins to see signs all around that nature is reclaiming its territory. her protests and letters to the local police about her theories often go unheeded or are discarded as the ramblings of an ‘old crone’. after many philosophical wanderings through the forests and hills, Mrs. Duszejko reveals the nature of the truth.
★ ★ ★ ★
more thoughts: SPOILERS!
Some personal context… I read Olga Tokarczuk’s THE BOOKS OF JACOB not too long ago. It was an immersively lengthy and detailed read, but worth it. Drawn to her writing style and choice of subject matter, I was curious to try something more novelistic, from her pen. I’m also back in my thriller/horror bag and was delighted to find out Olga had written something in the genre.
I was drawn to the murder and the astrology, and I received fulfilling helpings of both.
The story opens and the action immediately begins, which I loved. We are with Olga in the middle of her astrology studies, on a dark winter evening, when her neighbor, Oddball, informs her that their other neighbor, Bigfoot, is dead in his home.On the cold walk to Bigfoot’s home, we learn that our beloved Mrs. Duszejko communes with the forest in some inner spiritual way. She believes the animals and trees and hills are just as alive as any of us, and have their rights too. This is why she believes Bigfoot died choking on a deer bone; he transgressed some law of nature by killing and eating a fawn.
As they take the time to dress Bigfoot and contort his twisted body into something less humiliating and dishonorable, a sort of religious awakening happens for Mrs. Duszejko. She believes the woodland creatures of the dark winter night are forming a pact with her, assigning her some duty to speak for them. So begins her petitions. She visits the local police station to inform them that the animals are exacting their ‘revenge’, and it was them who were responsible for the death of Bigfoot… as a result of him killing one of their own.
Fast forward past her being laughed out of the police station and every other public office in town. Her letters, which public officials are required to respond to within 14 days, go without an answer. She tells her theory to anyone that will listen. Including her frequent visitor Dizzy, a friend, who works at the police station and passes along gossip, but translates old poetry, by Blake, with Mrs. Duszejko in his free time. They eat lots of soups. He tells her to keep her theories to herself. Her living neighbor, Oddball, doesn’t say much at all on his infrequent visits.
In between these visits for tea, and Mrs. Duszejko’s campaigns at public offices and letters to public officials, the bodies are piling up. The police, and the public, are concocting a grand theory of mobsters and poachers and two-timing policemen. Mrs. Duszejko points to the abundance of animal evidence found at the scenes of the crimes, and also to the climate changing, and the imbalances of nature that could cause wildlife to change. Just as importantly, don’t forget the astrology! Not only do the individual birth charts of the victims show they are destined for death caused by an animal, but the current transits of the planets confirm animal madness as well!
As more men are found dead, her fervor grows. She not only theorizes that the animals are killing people, but that we must give them their rights in order for it to cease. She cites legal cases from hundreds of years ago where insects and animals were tried in courts of law. She proclaims we must stop polluting and disturbing the natural lands. We must stop overkilling, poaching, and shooting anything that moves. Because of her proximity to some of the victims, and her reputation, she is even arrested for a day, while her home is searched.
In public, she is getting into physical altercations with soldiers disturbing the forest, and cursing priests who preach about the glories and goodness of hunting. In private, at home, she is dreaming of the dead… people, family, animals, etc. She is a caretaker of empty houses, caretaker of forested lands, caretaker of animal graves and headstones. From the time the story has opened, until the close, Mrs. Duszejko has cried liters and liters of tears. She isn’t sure if it’s her astrology, her ailments, or her nature. (Maybe some of all, if everything is connected.)
The end of the world comes after Mrs. Duszejko’s reputation as an eco-warrior is fully established. The police return to her during their investigation, this time with cause for arrest. Gossip gets to her first and she is able to hide herself away, down in the basement boiler room with the memories of her deceased mother and grandmother and animals.
The story ends with Mrs. Duszejko safe from harm, making it past that treacherous Saturn transit. She is ailing, but alive, safe with her astrology, and confident in her knowledge that though she hurts, she is not dying anytime soon.
There’s something about her ecological spirit, her knowledge of the earth, and her use of astrology, that reminds me of Yente (The Goddess) from The Books of Jacob. Both are strange, aged, feminine figures who resist the solar masculine order and uphold the lunar and natural feminine realm. Yente resisting death and time and space. Mrs. Duszejko resisting man and his laws.
I fluctuate between a high 4 and a 5. There were parts that lingered just a beat longer than I’d liked. I would’ve loved just a bit more suspense, but that doesn’t really seem to be Olga’s style. Her writing (of the two books I’ve read so far) lends itself to the freedom of the details of moments in time. Large parts of this book felt like I was sitting with the nice old lady in the neighborhood, talking about nothing. Tea time.
I also feel like, in time, I will re-read this book and be delighted in the little breadcrumbs and apple cores left here and there, that eventually lead up to Mrs. Dusjeko’s grand reveal as a guardian goddess of the forest, divine and unreal, unseeable by most mortals, but known well by all the other blessed creatures.
THE BOOKS OF JACOB by OLGA TOKARCZUK (REVIEW)
quickly: it’s a jewish cult in 1700’s poland (an astral traveling matriarch accidentally floating above all of existence / a man who prides himself on being no one and knowing nothing, a simpleton, yet attracts followers from all over / prophetesses who see prophecies fulfilled / sects that are cults that are sects that are cults / a security detail made entirely of women).
this book is as long as life, and just as monotonous, which is what makes it all the more enriching. it is truly a world and a time, encapsulated in 961 pages. it is a true story, with a thin glaze of magical realism drizzled on top. it reads like the bible (or should i say the Torah), slow, dry, and impactful. it is crowded, like a city street during lunch hour, but if you follow Yente and Jacob through the story, you’ll never get lost.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
more thoughts: SPOILERS!
Some personal context… this is the first Big Book I’ve read since reading Infinite Jest back in like 2015. I’ve read a handful of books randomly from 2016-2022, going years sometimes without reading a full book. I was gifted a set of Goosebumps books by a friend last Christmas and the nostalgia inspired me to get reading again.
I went from Goosebumps to Fear Street to some brilliant new fiction (Sacrificio by Ernesto Mestre-Reed, The Boatman’s Daughter and The Hollow Kind by Andy Davidson). THE BOOKS OF JACOB is the longest book I’ve read in years, and it was almost nothing I thought it would be. After the delicious but “short” novels I’d been reading lately, I was craving the truly immersive feeling of that could only be captured in a 900+ page book.
The synopsis excited me immediately: JEWISH CULT IN 1700s POLAND! BASED ON A TRUE STORY!
Now by no means do I have any serious education of Jewish culture. I’ve watched movies, read some books, but I am not versed. However, with the level and detail of writing that Tokarczuk achieves in this work (much of it based on fact), it made real some of the things that only existed in my mind as fragments of information.
The entire story is broken up into books, books are broken up into chapters, and chapters each have their own subsections. Most of these subsections are prose, some are letters, and others are ‘scraps’ or behind-the-scenes moments captured by Nahmen, Jacob’s most faithful follower.
THE BOOK OF FOG, is the opener. It sets the scene and introduces you to a network of characters that Jacob will soon be at the center of.
THE BOOK OF SAND, sees families start to form, and Yente turns into a goddess of the air as she astral travels through time and space. Jacob is introduced and we see his travels (culturally and geographically). His followers witness ‘the great spirit’ descending into him, causing his entire body to shed. This book is filled with miraculous stories and acts.
THE BOOK OF THE ROAD, sees Jacob leading his followers into a new land, and initiating some of his followers by secret rituals. Their practices make them enemies of local Jews and they are soon pursued by The State. Jews issue curses against them, and Jacob sends curses back.
THE BOOK OF THE COMET, sees a comet that appears, with many seeing it as an auger of end times. More rituals. The Shekinah, feminine goddess, is witnessed descending into a gold statue, plague erupts, and Jacob and his followers are held for questioning in regards to their religious practices, eventually banishing him to prison in a monastery. This is where Jacob starts to fray.
THE BOOK OF METAL AND SULFER (my personal favorite for some reason?), sees Jacob sent to prison, yet his followers still cling to him, setting up a village around him. They all wait for the Shekinah to appear from a painting in the church monastery where he is being held. Jacob is ill, a lot, getting older and losing his glow. He is not himself sometimes. Eventually, war breaks out, giving Jacob an opportunity to negotiate his freedom.
THE BOOK OF THE DISTANT COUNTRY, Jacob once again enters a new land, lord of a castle now, where he lives on the lower floors as an old ailing man. The toll of prison manifests in his body. His practices alarm some and enamor others. This book sees the death of Jacob.
THE BOOK OF NAMES, is almost a denouement, biblical style, rife with anecdotes of the deaths of Jacob’s closest followers, and some of their children. Yente, the goddess, closes the story from high above us, somewhere in the afterlife.
In all, I was moved by the beautiful lacing of Jewish lore and mythology throughout the story. I found Jacob to be repulsive, arrogant, wise, contradictory, and ridiculous. Not much different from today’s cult leaders. He eventually endures that long hard ego death that only the body can devise. Throughout the story we see women who guard the knowledge of paternity, all women guards, Yente who knows all, Hayah the Prophetess who sees all, the holy trinity’s fourth part—the great divine feminine, and so on. I found the magic of the feminine, the resistance to “tradition”, and the movement of a people, to be incredible to read about.
I understand and sympathize with those who say they couldn’t read past the first half and were confused and lost in the sea of characters, especially when the main characters decide to switch names mid-story.
A SECRET: There are really only two names to keep up with in the story. Yente, and Jacob. Yente is easy to remember… she is Jacob’s grandmother, and she is also the sky, the wind, the air, and the ether. She is everywhere at all times, at any time, like God. So it’s hard to lose her in the story. Then there’s Jacob. The star upon which all other stars orbit and constellate. If you watch them throughout the pages, all others move around him, forming the loose, lingering, and prescient story arc that only life can form. Everyone else can be identified by their actions.
Ahhemmmm, I feel called out. I could write several books about … or …….. or …… or the love of my life that I thought would be with me and essentially couldn’t have at that time. Tristian, my love, darling I wish I could have adopted you. A small adorable kitten, you captured my heart at first sight, with minutes I knew that that was something I hadn’t felt before, I this short amount of time. I imagined a whole life together, me reading my book, and your gray fur and magnificent soul distracting me. Not in a way I would get annoyed but in way that brings a gentle smile upon my face. A way that I could be mesmerized by your soul existence.A way that sparks some warmth in this cold, emotionless heart. Now, I have no clue where you might be, don’t forget about me, for I love you. ❤️ You are a love I couldn’t possibly have. A love that will never be fulfilled.
„For you, I was a chapter. For me, you were the book.“
— Tom McNeal, A quote by Tom McNeal
I wish that more people knew that this is key to having a grand scope of perspective. Formulating opinions, and just take time to imagine. Be quirky, be curious and you’ll find yourself researching on random things. That’s the key, just remember to jot it down somewhere you won’t forget. You never know, you might get a story out of it. As for my many stories that might never see the light of day and night, maybe your time will come.
What advice would you give to young or beginning writers?
Read everything. Read the stuff you like and read the stuff you don't think you'll like. Read the things that people think it's good for you to read and read the things they seem worried about you reading. Read prose and poetry and fiction and non-fiction. Get off your phone and read books without interruption. Read the classics and read the cutting edge. Read everything you can get your hands on.
– @neil-gaiman
One of my favorite scenes from Intermenides so far, taken from the middle of chapter 6. It is Rayne attempting to use her abilities as a lycanthrope to read Silas' emotions after just getting off her suppressants. I just love the feeling of mystique, the way she hovers in the abyss, the slight panic welling up inside as something is evidently very wrong, but insists on rationalizing it.
I am not the author, I have permission to post excerpts. Please check pinned post if you are curious about Intermenides.
In and then out. The edges of her vision leaped into comfortable shadow, obscuring themself in a void of senses, while the things nearby began to jump out at her. The slight sound of the leather seats shifting; the silent hum of air passing over the exterior of the car; and most importantly, thin lines of color. They wafted through the car, misty breath on a winter day; trails of incense smoke spreading into a thin haze; the smoke from a campfire blowing in the wind. Some were pale red, others a dark purple, but each and every color was oddly muted. Rayne looked to Silas in an attempt to read his emotions, and she could tell the lines of emotions weren’t from him, but others he’d driven.
Rayne pushed her senses against him, slowly at first, until the attempt had grown into a tidal wave of effort from her end. Silas was a mountain, impenetrable and old, covered from head to toe in thick, ancient oaks. There were no emotions emitting from him, not like they did for others, and Rayne had never come close to experiencing this before. She pushed once more, attempting to get any lick of feeling from him--she knew her senses were working now, she could see other emotions everywhere--until his barrier cracked, only for a split second.
Perhaps it was magical. Maybe Silas himself didn’t realize it’s what he had, but that’s what it was: a barrier. The moment she burst through the tiny crack in its surface, she knew she’d made a mistake trying to read him, to get any vague understanding of what he was feeling. The world eclipsed in shadow, and pressing against him was like allowing a void to take her wholly and entirely. Rayne couldn’t see or feel anything but the endless black expanse surrounding her.
She looked down, only to see her own reflection in the abyss, reflecting off its surface like water. Her double-self looked back, face awash with bewilderment and horror. Her ears flicked wildly, and though she had at first thought there was no sound, she realized there was so much sound that it had become impossible to parse. In the far edges of her vision, she thought she could see strands of emotion, but just as swiftly as they appeared they would sink into the abyss and disappear.
Rayne stepped toward one of the strands, and though all emotion she’d ever seen had been colored, these were an empty grey. When she went close enough, the disgusting overly sweet musty smell of moldy pastries filled her world, and when Rayne attempted to interpret the emotion, to let her senses understand, they simply couldn’t. It was like the emotions had a thin film over them, masking them and forcing them away from her touch. Silas’ feelings were clearly there, she could see them, but they were also miles away, hidden beyond her senses.
Rayne began to go for a different strand, to see if this was a fluke, before she was suddenly forced away from the abyss. Orange light streamed through the car window, and her head rocked roughly against the glass. She yawned once, then twice, and found she couldn’t stop. At some point she must have fallen asleep, and the sudden comforting light and sound was a welcome change to the previous darkness. She must have been dreaming, she realized.
Hey there, folks! I don't really post much as I don't have much to post about, but this one is important to me.
My closest friend has been writing over the past few months. And personally, I find it to be extremely good. It's verbose and detailed even for the few chapters few currently out, but it's enthralling and grips you so quickly. Their characters have such great interactions with each other, their world feels mysterious and somewhat unknown, their ideas and universal mechanics are just downright exhilirating!!
So what exactly is it? We'll, let's get into that!
Welcome to:
Intermenides
Intermenides is an urban fantasy web novel focused around the story of August, Nadir, and Lawry trying to navigate a world beyond the veil of typical human understanding, one full of mystical beings and gods beyond comprehension, and the intersecting pair Silas and Rayne as they track down supernatural (henceforth referred to as Housefolk) dangers underneath the orders of the shadowy and questionable Ministry of Natural Law. A couple sources of inspiration include Paradox's World of Darkness and Weather Factory's Secret Histories games, but ultimately it was spawned from a writing prompt and grew into something larger due to passion and love of writing.
August Hall and Nadir Ruiz are on the run after a shapeshifter of some type took on Nadir's guise and attempted to kill him. Nadir, not knowing who else to go to, ran to August for help and resulted in her awakening to her latent spellcasting abilities and status as a witch. The mimic has not given up its search though, it continues to track and attack the pair seemingly regardless of where they go, for reasons they do not understand as of yet. The duo stumbled into Lawry, a disabled spellblade and former authority figure amongst the world of the Housefolk, and have been staying on the road with her in order to find a solution to their mimic issue; supposedly within a strange and magical book titled Intermenides XIV.
July Lawson, AKA Lawry, is a hard to read, closed off individual. She is often obfuscating information, if not outright lying about topics she believes the duo is not ready to be exposed to. She was once a noteworthy and recognized figure amongst the Housefolk, and a spellblade of borderline legendary status, yet somehow all traces of knowledge on her vanished years ago. Lawry has a strange demeanor to her; she seems distant and cold at times, sometimes even fearful of what might occur around her. Something appears to have scarred her both emotionally and magically, causing her to be unable to control spells without injuring herself and unable to find comfort in people. August and Nadir intend to try and help her heal.
Silas Everett is an overly professional and strict detective within the Ministry of Natural Law, at least on the surface. His jobs are often dangerous, his quarries often violent, and his handling must shift to match. But beneath that he has a genuine care for the Housefolk and merely wishes to keep their world from spiraling. He is known as a Ministry lap dog, doing anything and everything he is told without question, however that couldn't be further from the truth. He is aware that something within the Ministry isn't right, something has rotten it to the very core, and it's up to him and those he puts his trust in to figure out what. And who knows, maybe the Ministry isn't the only thing that isn't quite what it seems...
Rayne Harper! My gods, how I love Rayne. Rayne is a bubbly, sweet, and mildly mischievous lycanthrope under the handling of Silas after being taken in by the Ministry for crimes she had no part in. A little bit of a tease, she is one of the few that Silas lets his guard down around, she knows how he actually operates and relishes every moment away from the eyes of the Ministry. Rayne is one of the many Housefolk who are unjustly oppressed by the Ministry, being forced onto medication that suppress her abilities to shift forms and read emotions. She may be a nobody to the world at large, but her work at Silas' side will prove revolutionary.
I know that was a lot! I know I'm also not great at pitching things but I am earnestly trying my best and I promise that it's written exponentially better than my blurbs about it. I just love what Wren's doing with it, and I want them to continue because I can see how much it matters to them. They're trying to get a chapter out every week to two weeks. Mind you the chapters are quite long. So please, if it seems at all interesting to you, even the slightest bit, please go give it a try. It'd mean the world to both of us.
Thank you for reading!!
😑
Why do I keep finding Tumblr posts on pintest right after I reblog them
I wish lesbians were as easy to find in real life as they are on tumblr
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you
It would have left
it’s shores
It’s shells
And followed me
- Nizar Qabbani
