My new baby. It's epic poetry, like old haggards used to make back when the most advanced minds in the world were Italian. It's a funny story. Western Europe developed pretty late. Now it's the stupid little Japanese. My mom hates them and a smidgen has rubbed off on me. But it is wise to fear their power.

God of March will be a long series of connected poems with occasional prose all telling one story, like Shakespeare's sonnets. I have, in order,
Interjectionaires,
The Desert of Light,
and Beyond. I love each of them.

I will check back every month. If I was as creative with words verbally I'd be much more talkative, but since I'm an idiot, I'll keep my mouth shut. God, I love crackers, the kind you buy with cheese in them.

I like sort of just sitting there and, and, pretending I'm eye level with a vast ocean as far as the eye can see. It's more fun than one thinks.

I'm using spreeder.com to make my eyes move across paper faster, because I'm an impulse book buyer.
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Fangs and Claws, not started yet: the basis is to get my information from other people.
Obvious heroes: Wolves
Obvious dilemma or major dilemma: World destruction/in peril
Put in a few Japanese names for Maria, notably Itachi
The non-obvious stuff should NEVER be planned; it comes with the natural tide of eventsjust like real life and it is so beautiful when it happens; I've discovered it about a week ago and I'm amazed at what I'm mindlessly writing down. It looks so planned.
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I'm not saying I'm any good at all, just that, you keep writing something, you will create an intricate web, fill all the plot holes, and make for a lovely plot without doing anything more than making it past the halfway point. And I think the book itself needs to be more than a few hundred pages. This book I'm talking about is Yggdrasil Tree; Long Time. I better have reached more than a hundred pages, too.

I love the way my friends don't have such a one-tracked mind as I do.