This is a desultory post, which means that it may not see human eyes. I do hope that ever more I may advertise the ridiculous stuff that is part and parcel of my YA novel. I’m still working on it in various notebooks, and it may appear in whole or in part on this website. I am also an ESL teacher, so that may also work to your benefit, reader. Nothing but the most pithy statements will find their way on this website. I did want to give you the very first paragraph of my novel which is still under construction:
“Poxig was a generally nice elf who was of little repute. He spent long nights in front of an obsessive mother named Velouria who took all his time which chores and little tasks of various sorts. He was struck with the need to go out at times and walk, which was the ‘winter of his soul.’ He took his beat up guitar in order so that he could become a troubadour. This was the problem he had faced since his decision to make his way through the episodes of his former life. You see, there was a peculiar way about this fellow. He couldn’t see what the purpose was of his difficult life and decided to set out on his own. He came at once to the village of Excelsior and put down his baggage, determined to make it as a bard of old tales. ”
Ok, so this isn’t in its final form yet, but it is kind of a sui generis right now.