one more episode of Ethersea to go but i’m already fuckgn. foaming at the mouth over the ring composition of it all.

Till The Sun Is in the Sky Fanfic

Title: Till The Sun is in the Sky Fanfic

Summary: Roman is a genie who has granted wishes for over a millennia. The only reason he’d be eager to serve his next master is for a chance to briefly escape the lamp’s darkness. Not for a chance at freedom--for that’s just wishful thinking and he knows what that all entails.

Or at least that’s his assumption until he meets Patton, the newest master of his lamp.

Pairing: platonic royality

Word-Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Crying, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

This set in the same ‘verse as When the Blazing Sun Is Gone but you don’t need to read that fic to understand this one. @delimeful requested seeing Roman’s/Logan’s role in the AU as part of my follower milestone celebration and so I went with Roman. Also huge thanks to @stillebesat who beta-read two different drafts of this fic and offered valuable input, I appreciate it! <3

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He didn't know how long it had been since his last Master had thrown the lamp into the sea. It didn't matter really. Minutes, years, centuries...it didn't. Because he knew his next master would be the same as the last six hundred. Selfish, full of empty promises of freedom that never came to pass. 

No, the only reason why he would ever be eager to come out of the lamp to serve his six hundredth and one master would be for those precious moments to get out of the darkness.

Some of his more inquisitive masters would ask him what it felt like to have one’s soul crammed into a lamp.

He always laughed it off and made a joke about how it made for a great napping place.

But the truth was far from it. He knew it was silly, but he feared the darkness. He feared its loneliness, feared no one would ever find his lamp again and he’d be stuck there forever. 

He never told them how many times he uselessly fought against the magic barriers, hoping beyond hope to find a defect in the spell that bound him there. He didn’t tell them how much he feared them being the last master he ever had—not because they freed him but because his lamp never found another master to serve. Worse yet, his lamp shattering.

His soul was bound to the lamp and if it broke--then his soul would split into a thousand pieces along with it. Suffice to say, it was not a happy fate and not something happy to dwell on.

So he sang instead. His voice filling up the lamp, bouncing all around him. He could pretend someone was with him, that way, singing alongside him. He sang the few songs he knew and then some. He made up songs, even, about anything his mind could dwell on. He was halfway through singing about a gallant knight when a pair of hands made contact with the lamp.

 A new master; both relief and trepidation hit him at once. Relief that he’d be free from the darkness once more. Trepidation in knowing that it was only a fleeting temporary respite from it.

That was quite alright. After all, his new master was probably someone in great need of his assistance—they always were. The lamp magic sought out those who were plagued by horrible life circumstances. He would be the knight in shining armor to them, like he’d been to many others before.

For that was his true purpose in life and not freedom. That was just wishful thinking—and he knew all of what that entailed.

With a shroud of red mist, he rose up in front of his new master. All of which was entirely for the sheer dramatics of it. He enjoyed putting on a good show and the adrenaline that came along with it.

“Greetings!” He boomed, waving his arms around in a grand gesture, “I am a great and powerful genie—and I am here to make all your dreams come true!”

The human gawked at him, slack-jawed. His brown eyes bulged from behind his glasses, much like a cartoon character. There was a crack in one of the glasses’ lenses and upon closer look, the glasses appeared to be practically held together by tape. 

The man’s clothing appeared to be in a similar disheveled state—unraveling hems, holes in his shoes, scuff marks. The cardigan tied around his neck looked hardly wearable. Lying at the man’s feet was a blue backpack that the genie wouldn’t doubt contained all of his worldly belongings.

The lamp sought out the unfortunate and if there was one constant in any century, it was poverty.

“You’re…really a genie?” The human asked, pressing his eyebrows together.

“In the flesh.” The Genie winked.

He was well aware of what a fine specimen he was to behold. Flowing locks of russet hair, eyes that glimmered like emeralds, a voluptuous figure. Clothed in only the finest cloth that the eleventh century had to offer. Centuries of existence in the lamp had not diminished his beauty in the slightest.

If there was one thing he could take pleasure in, it was the awe humans gave him before they decided demanding for wishes. It usually lasted for only about five seconds. But during those five seconds, he could pretend that they were actually ecstatic to see him.

“What’s your name?”

He startled at those words.

“Pardon?” He asked, tilting his head backwards.

The last thing the Genie had been expecting, was those words to come out of his mouth. No one ever bothered to ask for his name. It was as though they assumed their wish-granting cosmic vending machine had no name. Or was indeed a living being with thoughts and feelings for that matter. They always started demanding rules and stipulations for their wishes as fast as they could.

“I’m sorry!” The human cried, wringing his hands together, “that was rude of me to ask without introducing myself first.”

He held out a hand, beaming, “I’m Patton! What’s your name?”

“I…” He stared down at the man’s hand, “My name?”

“Oh,” Patton’s eyes widened, “do you not have a name?”

The Genie looked away. He did once have a name, long ago before he inhabited the lamp. He couldn’t remember it. A strained, lilted laugh broke from his lips, not assuaging Patton’s concerns in the slightest.

How could he forget his own name? Names were important—special. Names had power. Names were a person’s identity. How could he let that damn lamp take something so precious away from him? It’d already taken everything else away—what more could it take? 

“I can’t seem to recall it,” He shook his head, before desperately trying to change the subject, “But enough about my fabulous self! I’m here to grant you not one, not two, but three! Three wishes of immeasurable power! Say the magic word, and I’ll spin your dreams into reality.”

He expected Patton to forget the name nonsense entirely at the mention of wishes. Surely, the man had unfulfilled desires���everyone always possessed those. Instead, the man slowly shook his head.

“I can help you find a new name, if you’d like.” He offered, a smile softly framing his face.

The Genie blinked, “You wish to give me a new name?”

He could not make heads nor tails of this strange human. He scarcely knew Patton for a single minute, but his aura oozed nothing but positivity. Still, it was an odd waste of a wish, if you asked him. He’d hate to see someone so good and in need of his cosmic help squander a wish like that.

“No,” Patton said, laughing, “I want to help you find a new name.”

Patton sat down on the beach, the lamp by his side. The human looked up at him and patted the space next to him. Reluctantly, the Genie joined him.

“How does the name Daniel sound to you?” Patton asked.

Daniel. One of his more unpleasant masters went by that name. The genie made a face before shaking his head.

“That’s okay! What about Philip then?”

“Phiiiilip…” He drew out the consonants, testing how they felt against the roof of his mouth, “What do you think, dear Patton? Do I look like a Philip to you?”

“Well, you’re very princely-looking, and I’d say Philip is a very princely name!” The man giggled, “but as long as you love it—I’ll love it as well!”

The Genie hesitated. As much as he liked the name—it didn’t quite scream him. It didn’t encompass his whole being. Philip felt as tight and constraining as his lamp. The genie could lie and tell Patton he liked it just to move on from this whole naming business. His purpose here was supposed to be focused on the wish-bearer and not him, the wish-granter.

However, as he looked upon Patton’s earnest gaze he found himself unable to lie to him.

“I am afraid that I’m not entirely in love with the idea of Philip.” He admittedly with a great sigh.

“That’s alright! We just gotta keep trying then!” Patton declared, undeterred.

He continued listing off names, but none of them seemed to satisfy the Genie. The latter of whom grew despondent that they’d never find the perfect name. There were millions of names in the world, yet none of them appealed to him. He voiced this to Patton, who refused to give up hope that easily and urged him to keep trying.

“Hmm…oh! What about Roman?” Patton asked, “I knew a guy back in high school named Roman. He did theatre.”

Something sparked within the hollow cavity of the Genie’s chest.

“Theatre? As in acting out a story in front of an audience?” The Genie asked, his eyes lit bright with wonder.

He’d never seen a play before. His masters never bothered taking him to events like that. Instead he’d remain in their household, his lamp sitting on a shelf or hidden in a cabinet. Like a jar of quarters to use on a rainy day. He could only manifest within twenty-five yards around his lamp, leaving him unable to sneak off and enjoy something like a theatre show.

But what little he heard of them reminded him greatly of the bards of his time. They used to travel all over, singing sweetly in poetic verse of great heroes and terrifying monsters. He’d always loved watching a bard perform. He almost ran off and became a bard himself before he ended up stuck inside the lamp.

“Yup! He played Lumiere in our production of Beauty and the Beast.”

The names of the character and story were unfamiliar to him. But the Genie could tell by Patton’s phrasing that it had been an important role.

“Roo-man,” He tried, liking how it sounded on his lips, “Roman, Roman, Romaaaaaaaaaaan!”

Patton giggled as the Genie held out the name for as long as he could.

Roman. It was bold, it was brash, it was perfect. Not too snug, not too loose—it fit him just right.

“Well then,” He said, clearing his throat, “I’d be honored to go by the name of such a great bard!”

“I’m happy to hear that!” Patton beamed, “We should go celebrate!”

The human stood up, stuffing the lamp into his backpack in the process. He offered a hand towards the Genie—or rather Roman.

“Celebrate?” Roman questioned, as he accepted Patton’s hand, “Don’t you want your three wishes—"

“That can wait for later,” Patton said as he pulled Roman onto his feet with ease, “what’s important right now is celebrating your new name—with ice cream! I know just the place!”

“Forgive me for asking, but what is ice cream?”

“You don’t know what ice cream is?” Patton gasped, a determined look settling onto his features, “we’ll definitely have to fix that!”

He took hold of Roman’s hand—and marched towards the direction of the ice cream stand. Roman, bemused by the human, laughed as he allowed himself to be tugged along by Patton. He didn’t know why Patton was so concerned about his wellbeing but he found it a nice change from the norm.

Patton chattered along the way, mainly about ice cream and puns relating to the icy dessert and to other things.

“What did the popsicle say to his sonsicle in a crowd?” Patton asked, already snickering at his own joke.

“What?”

“He said, stick with me kid!” Patton burst into a fit of giggles, and Roman followed suit. Admittedly a lot of the contextual humor of Patton’s puns were lost on him but there was something contagious about Patton’s cheery disposition. You couldn’t help but want to laugh along and feel about a bit of that happiness glow in your lungs. 

For those brief seconds of laughter, Roman felt human again. He’d have to treasure this feeling--coveting it once he inevitably ended up in the darkness of the lamp once more.

The sun set in the horizon as they reached their destination; a brilliant splash of crimson red with streaks of golden orange and lilac purple. There were a few customers already in line at the ice cream stand. Cheery music blared. Where, Roman had no clue. He could not see a band nearby. Perhaps it was magic?

“Hey um,” Patton said, ducking his head a bit, “mind if we split a bowl? I’ll let you pick out the flavor. You should go with vanilla—it’s a classic! But, uh you can get whatever you’d like!”

“Patton…” Roman frowned, “I could wish into existence a whole ice cream shop of your own if you truly wanted it. You don’t have to waste money on me.”

“No, I don’t have to,” Patton said with a determined glint in his eyes, “But I want to.”

Roman gawked at him, stunned. What was this human? People normally expected genies to do things for them, not the other way around! When it came time to order, Roman merely pointed to the vanilla as Patton had suggested.

There were tables set up next to the ice cream stand where customers could consume their ice cream. But Patton shook his head, telling Roman he knew a much better place.

“It’s a place my friend Virgil and I like to visit,” Patton said, “It’s nice and quiet, unlike most of the city. The noise can be too much sometimes, y’know?”

This peaceful location happened to be a bench in the middle of a park. Trees gracefully arched over it, dressed in the beginnings of autumn colors. Orange, yellow, red. A warm glowing yellow light emanated from the lamppost beside the bench. 

“You can have the first taste of the ice cream,” Patton told him as they settled onto the bench. Roman obliged him, dipping his spoon a little in the white substance and bringing it to his mouth. He blinked. It was colder than he expected. But not unpleasantly so. It was a smooth, sweet texture.

“What do you think?” Patton asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

“It’s--it’s absolutely divine!” Roman exclaimed, his eyes flickered down to the ice cream, “May I…?”

“Of course!” Patton grinned. Roman took another spoonful, savoring the taste longer this time. They took turns finishing it off as they continued to converse.

Roman wasn’t used to talking. Sure, he talked plenty over the centuries, but his conversations with his masters revolved strictly around wish-granting. Mundane conversations about the weather were anything but mundane to the genie. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” Patton asked, swinging his legs back and forth in a careless manner.

“Dogs—they are lovable, loyal creatures and mankind is undeserving of their affections.” Roman declared.

“Dogs are my favorite too!” Patton giggled, “Oh! And so are cats, horses, lizards, lions and tigers and bears—oh my! Elephants, giraffes, hippos—”

“So all of them are your favorite, I take it?”

“I guess you could say that,” Patton sheepishly grinned, “I wanted to be a veterinarian be—before—”

The human inhaled shakily, the smile slipping off his face. Instead of continuing, he stared down into the mostly empty plastic ice cream bowl. Something obviously happened in Patton’s past that upset him. It wasn’t Roman’s place to pry—but it didn’t mean he couldn’t help in the only way he knew best; magic. In all his centuries as a genie, he’s never met anyone deserving of it than Patton.

The man had been the first in a long while to treat Roman like his thoughts and feelings actually mattered. Like the genie was actually...human. 

“You could still be a veterinarian, if you so badly wished,” Roman spoke softly, “Your every wish is my command.”

Patton flinched, looking more distressed than comforted by Roman’s words.

“Roman please, I can’t do that—”

“Why not?” Roman said, “you are my master—you can make any wish you’ve ever desired.”

“Roman, I’m not your master.” Patton choked.

“Of course you are,” Roman tilted his head, “you are the keeper of my lamp. What else would you be?”

“A friend?” Patton suggested, “Roman, please I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“This is different,” Roman said fervently, grasping hold of Patton’s hands, “this I offer to you freely for you are the most worthy keeper of my lamp. You must have unfulfilled desires, something, anything I can grant.”

Patton stared at Roman, his face void of expression. Several times he opened his mouth before abruptly closing it. As if thinking better of what he was about to say. 

“Please.” Roman pressed further.

His heart rattled against his chest, wanting badly to escape its cage as he did with his lamp. Like the latter, it was a pointless venture. As long as his lamp remained intact so would his soul. Unless of course it shattered, and with it his soul into a thousand pieces. His psyche splintered and fractured, too broken to put back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty except worse for it was a living death, one inescapable. Yet it was a fate that was inevitable and also something he shouldn’t be dwelling on at the moment.

“There is…” Patton hesitated, “one desire I have.” 

“Say it,” Roman said as he bowed his head, not daring to look at the human, “Speak it into existence and it shall be yours.”

It was going to hurt, he knew this. The genie wasn’t the true wish-granter, all the magic they possessed came from the lamp itself. The magic only used his form as a mere conduit. Because that was all a genie was—a damn puppet to his masters’ wills.

Roman brought this curse upon himself—he wanted immeasurable power and he attained it. Except, it was never his will to wield such power. Nay, only his masters possessed it. Only their wishes and not his would be granted. It’d be this way forever and ever, because everyone always cared about their happy endings and not his own.

Even Patton, once he saw the immeasurable power that surged forth from even the simplest of wishes. Roman wouldn’t blame him for it. The human has already given him more than what he’s ever deserved. 

Patton squeezed Roman’s hands. It took every ounce of Roman’s willpower not to sneak a glance up at him. He had to remain strong for whatever wish Patton threw at him. In the short time he’d spent with Patton, he didn’t get off the vibe of a frivolous wisher. He dealt with plenty of those over the years. Ones who used the wishes in willy-nilly ways, without any forethought behind them. 

No, he’d probably be practical. He’d wish for money, or perhaps a mistake in the past to be reversed. Those were always tricky ones. They didn’t always end in the way humans believed they would.

“Roman,” Patton began, “I wish to free you, the genie, from your lamp.”

The genie leapt off the bench as if electrocuted, hands clumsily detangling themselves from Patton’s own. The lamp’s magic roared in his ears, swelling inside him like a great storm. He gaped at the human, his heart bursting out of his chest and into his throat.

“P-patton, mind repeating that?” He gasped.

“I wish to free you the genie from your lamp.” Patton said once more, his voice firm and unbreaking.

This time he couldn’t hold off the wish. A bright red light enveloped him like a supernova explosion. Magic consumed him, rippling through every fiber of his being. A warmth fell across him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long while. A great shattering noise occurred. The light died down as he looked to see the lamp had spilled out of Patton’s pack, glittering underneath the lamppost, in pieces. 

Breath heaving, he fell to his knees, touching the pieces. The lamp had broken and he was still here, whole and complete and free.

“Why?” He stared down at the broken lamp, quivering, “I--I don’t understand. You had three wishes. You could’ve had so much—all the wealth and fame you could ever desire!”

“But I didn’t want that,” Patton protested, resting a hand on Roman’s shoulder, “not if it came from a wish you were involuntarily bound to serve no matter what. That isn’t fair. Everyone deserves the freedom of choice. Including you.”

Roman laughed. Except it wasn’t quite a laugh. More of a strangled, gargled croak than anything else. He pressed his hands into his face, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the dizzying nausea sweeping through him.

After six-hundred masters and a millennia inside the lamp, Roman knew a lot about the freedom of choice. His masters employed it with how they chose to use his wishes. Flaunting it so arrogantly in his face. The wishes were self-serving for most. Sometimes they used it to better others’ situations. But never his own, despite many promising to free him. Because at the end of that third wish, they’d walk away while he’d once more get trapped inside the lamp.

Over and over again, they chose to not free him. Except Patton. He chose to free Roman on his very first wish. For as long as he’d dreamt of this moment, of being free from the lamp, he never expected it to actually happen. It was just a foolish fantasy, too abstract to become reality. Not to mention in this manner. He had imagined a master would free him after he’d proven himself worthy with a great feat of magic. How could Patton think he was deserving of this gift?

He laughed weirdly again. This time it hurt his vocal chords.

“Roman?” Patton asked.

He responded with a noise, halfway resembling a hiccup and a shriek. A gentle set of arms enveloped him, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against a warm chest. A hug? Was Patton hugging him? 

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Patton murmured, ruffling a hand through his hair, “let it all out.”

Kiddo. Roman wanted to snort. He was a millennia older than Patton, he wasn’t exactly a child. Except at those words, he bawled like one as he realized that those were sobs from before. Not laughter. Roman couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Just like he couldn’t remember a time before being a genie.

Who was he, without the lamp? For as much as he hated it, it’d been a part of him. It defined him and the purpose of his existence. Now he was free of it, free to be his own person, with his own wishes and desires. But he didn’t know the first step of what that looked like.

 It was like he was thrown into a raging ocean of confusion and turmoil. Treading aimlessly, desperately hoping for a piece of driftwood to grab a hold on. Something that could anchor him, keep him afloat. 

“P-patton--” He whispers, voice hoarse from crying, “can I--can I choose to be your friend?”

The human had suggested it earlier. Surely, he meant it still? It was quiet for a few seconds. Enough to cause Roman to doubt himself. But then the man who unbelievably granted him his freedom hugged him tighter.

“Of course, Roman,” Patton told him, “I’d be honored.”

With a sniffle, Roman’s hands fell from his face as he threw his arms around Patton to fiercely return the embrace. A few more ugly sobs wracked his throat. How was it that Patton was the one honored to be his friend when it was the opposite? 

Roman hardly knew what being free looked like. But he did know he’d do anything to protect Patton, to preserve this kind, selfless spark that rested in the human’s soul.

As he dwelt encircled by Patton’s loving arms, the last slivers of the sun’s glow faded at last, dousing them in darkness. But for once, he didn’t find himself afraid of it.

Writer ask meme - everything divisible by 3

Sorry this took so long to reply to! I was writing out my responses today, but while watching Rosewell New Mexico with my roommate and that show is SO good. anyways this is really, really long so I will put part of it under a read more however if you are reading TAoL and want a sneak peak at an upcoming chapter, my answer to 36 is the entire first scene for that chapter

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? Other than the obvious writer's block, I think that my least favorite part is feeling insecure/wanting validation via comments and such. Writing is something I really enjoy doing and take great pride in trying to grow as a writer, but it's impossible to completely shake off that feeling of insecurity and sadness over something that doesn't get comments. There's this common thing in fandom where like you can pour a lot of heart and energy into something, be really skilled, only for it to get overlooked. There's obviously a lot of reasons for that, but some of those reasons are kind of annoying—like god forbid something not have sex in it, ya know?

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

So, that's hard.... If we're talking the canon Naruto characters, it can really vary from story to story. I obviously enjoy writing Gaara and Lee, but I was surprised to find that I really enjoy writing Shikamaru, Kankurou, Temari, Neji, and Tenten as well. I think all of them are really interested, have a lot of potential, and are fun in very different ways. Kankurou is definitely just flat out fun to write, and I think Tenten is very similar in the way she's fun to write. I think this like handful of characters are all faves for very different reasons so it's hard to say who my absolute fave is, but I really enjoy writing all of them. Definitely my fave thing is being able to write all of them interacting together, however.

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?

Least: Soulmates. I hate that shit with a passion—it's boring, it's artificial, it's easy. There was a post I just saw recently that said “soulmates are stupid. I love you on purpose” and that just sums up so much of my issue with soulmates. If something is predetermined by some fucking cosmic power, do you really ever love that person? Do you really ever know that person? Soulmate AUs will always be something that bore me and also insight anger. It's just not for me, and I wish that fandom spaces would just get over it, in all honesty. Fave: uh. I don’t really know about like trope-wise. I just really like anything with good world building and politics.

12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why? Oh gosh.... um. That's really hard to answer because every story I write has a special place in my heart for different reasons. Alliance is my baby; TAoL is a huge emotional investment and has allowed me to grow even more as a writer; Absolution is something I've always wanted to explore; Flyweight Love is super fun and cute; IEYH is a new experiment in writing for me; GoD was also an experiment... and on and on. It's hard to pick like a favorite story because like they're all my faves in different ways. There are certainly things I like more or prefer, like I'm not that into modern Aus as much so it's easier for me to say that like Find Me isn't a one of my best—it isn't, there's a lot of things I want to fix on it, and while it is a decent fic, it's not like groundbreaking imo. But like for all of the things that need fixing with Alliance, that fic is my baby and really grounded me as a writer in a way no other writing project had before it. So like I could never not love it. Anyways, I'm babbling at this point, but basically I love all my fics so I can't choose.

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? Rereading my writing tends to help and hoarding some of my favorite comments I've been left by readers. I know I'm a good writer, self-doubt and insecurities aside, so re-reading stuff is really a good confidence booster—but when that's not enough, it is really helpful to look back at old comments.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read

Of mine??? Well, obviously by 'book' we're going with fanfiction because none of my original content is at a point where I'd really even consider it for this question. Um. Honestly, I don't think there's much if anything. Maybe some HP fics but not because I'm not like... proud of the writing or premise. Like I'd say my ideas are really good, it's just a matter of like my own time management and shit.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

My world building. I'm also generally proud of the premises I come up with, and the themes I explore with my writing. Like I think I'm a good writer in terms of the like technical writing aspect—pros and such—and also characters, but I think I excel at world building and overall plot.

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? The first time I ever wrote anything I was seven years old. I was at a party for my mom's boss? I think it was a birthday party? Anyway, I was the only kid there—which was fine because I was used to being the only kid in gatherings—but I was sitting alone by like a window and I just like started writing a poem about the night. That was like the first time that writing really became a part of me. When I was thirteen, when my mom got sick, I started writing poetry more. And when I was fourteen, I started writing fanficiton and that's kinda just... never stopped. I've been writing stories ever since.

27. Every writer’s least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?

My inspiration comes from everywhere, not to like be cliched. But inspiration really is in everything and everyone. I tend to find inspiration really easily in music, but it's also in just like the day-to-day; it's in other writers; it's in washing dishes; it's in a day trip to the ocean; it's in a quote or a touch or a word. Like genuinely, it's in big things and little things and things that shouldn't even be things. I don't feel like I really struggle with inspiration so much as motivation, really. And that is... a much harder thing to find sometimes (especially when you're mentally ill)

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

Um. I like to read fantasy mostly, but I don't look for something similar or different from my projects intentionally. I just.... look for things that I like? But I don't really know how to explain that lol

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? Since I'm writing mostly fanfiction and the culture of having a beta reader has dwindled significantly, making it hard to find one, I do a lot of self-editing. I'm usually re-reading a lot as I'm writing. So until a chapter is done, I'm always going back and reading/editing before moving on to the next scene. And then once I'm done writing a chapter I'll usually edit it about two or three times in full in the document, then I put it in draft on Ao3 for another edit before posting.

36. Post a snippet All right a snippet..... Let's go with something from: The Art of Love, Chapter 13 (not the next chapter, but the one after). Since I left everyone hanging for so long with that last scene of Gaara and Lee, this is the entire first scene to ch13: It was all his fault. If he hadn't let himself get so carried away in the dream of Gyokukakushin, in the dream of Gaara, in the dream of safety they didn't have this wouldn't be happening. Their belongings had been stuffed haphazardly into their various bags. Despite how many times he'd checked and double checked, Lee felt sure that he'd overlooked something—some wayward item that had rolled beneath the bed or fallen behind the desk that would give them away. Gaara had watched him silently, his thoughts kept to himself as Lee dashed about their room like a mad man.

“I think that is everything,” Lee managed over the mantra of 'My fault, my fault' cycling through his mind. His voice trembled as he spoke. Every inch of him trembled. Every breath he took rattled in his chest. Every beat of his heart was a stutter against his rib cage. Every ounce of blood pumping through his veins burned with the need to run.

“This is useless,” Gaara said, the first words he'd spoken since the beach.

Lee snapped his head up, meeting Gaara's enigmatic gaze. “But—”

“They don't set sail until the end of the month,” he reminded Lee. “What use is being packed? Besides, it will look suspicious if we leave now.”

Tears burned at the corners of Lee's eyes. “But if they are coming—”

“They're coming,” Gaara murmured. “But even if they arrive before we've departed, we have our disguises. You have to trust that we'll be fine.”

Lee's head spun. How could Gaara be so calm? How could he sit there, quiet and unshakable, when Lee felt as though the world were falling apart around them? How could he be so sure that eleven days from now, they'd set sail, free and undiscovered? How was he not furious with Lee for his complacency?

Gaara was at Lee's side before Lee could shake the spinning in his head, a gentle hand at Lee's elbow and a surety in his eyes.

“I know you won't let anything happen to me,” he told Lee, as soft and insistent as the thumb he'd once pressed against the corner of Lee's mouth.

“No. Never.” Lee's stomach twisted, guilt rising like the tide. He'd let his feelings jeopardize everything.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

A trembling laugh escaped Lee, soft and unsteady. He had everything to fear, yet Gaara's gaze implored him to forget those fears. He managed to speak, his tongue heavy with the lie, “I do not know.”

“Then do not know fear. It will make this harder for us, especially if the Daimyo's soldiers arrive before we've left.”

“If they do—”

“If they do, we will be as unknown to them as any other traveler. And if not, I trust your speed to carry us to safety.”

“We would miss our ship.”

“If it comes to that, so be it. We can find other ways of traveling to Tea Country.”

Lee allowed himself to believe all would be well because he couldn't believe anything else when looking into the depths of Gaara's eyes, but there was no escaping his gnawing guilt or the knowledge that his heart had led them to ruin.

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire? I wouldn't say a lot of time per say, certainly not as much as I should, but I definitely do like to analyze other works and learn new skills, etc.

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied? I don't really write “drafts” per say. Since I'm just writing fanfiction, I'm usually just writing and then heavily editing. Sometimes editing does mean taking out and entirely rewriting entire scenes. And sometimes in writing fics, I do jump ahead—though very rarely—and write a rough draft of a future scene so I don't lose the idea/beats/etc, and then that will be re-written fully when I do get to it. But on average, I'm just doing a lot of editing.

45. First or third person? Third, definitely. I'll never be able to write first person cause it just doesn't really suit me and, overall, I think that it's a very hard point of view to write from. For me, it takes a special

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back? So before I write something, depending on what it is I will write an outline that can vary from a few sentences to like pages.

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books? A bit of both really. I love talking about the things I'm working on, but I also love to keep things a surprise so I can see what people's genuine reactions are to like plot twists or whatever. Of course, my problem is that I have to like—talk about my projects to stay motivated. It's a hard balance. I usually end up talking with my roommate since they also write fanfic for Naruto but not GaaLee. We can bounce ideas off each other, when we're stuck, etc.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written? Ugh this is another hard one...  I think im gonna go with the opening from IEYH right now as one of my fave becuase I think I did a decent job of setting the tone of my very first horror project: Too often, ghost stories begin with dark nights or horrible, gruesome death. Real ghosts don't follow the patterns of a novel; there are no beginnings, middles, and ends; no rising action and falling action; no denouement. Ghosts do not achieve resolution; ghost do not experience the climax of their own tale. There are no happy—or even sad—endings. There are no endings at all.

Ghost stories go on and on and on, rambling endlessly towards nothing and no where, only stopping for the finite amount of words one can speak or write in one's lifetime.

That is the true horror of death: ceaseless, unending nothingness.

Just a convo with a friend the other night where I flesh out why I want third time to be a charm.

Do you think i'm pregnant for real? Its just, if i am right now and it all works, my mom would 100000000% have her faith restored honestly, with me, i'm like, oh another disappointment, guess i should be used to it and yet... My mom would be like  A CHILD? BORN! IN JANUARY?! GOD IS REAL! IT IS LIKE MY MOTHER AND YOUR NAMESAKE NEVER DIED! IT IS A SIGN! And uh me being born a girl was her old sign :-/

And it would be nice to give her a different sign...like the two signs do not need to negate each other for you to believe that things are not just senseless and random I know I said, but my mother really and truly believes that the only reason in the whole world for her mother to die decades before her time was if the baby was a girl and like 2 months later I was there and a girl and I am a real and true miracle to her My brother is like a wonderful beautiful perk of the universe letting her have two nice things but I am the better thing in this one instance. Knowing a first grandchild was coming got my grandfather to keep from committing suicide like his brother. There is a lot of pressure on unborn or yet born children to fix things for people. That’s not what I’m doing here. I just want a baby to love? Even now I try not to think of my future child in binary terms of a son or a daughter, I imagine a warm genderless blob, I’m not asking to know the sex, I’m not having a gender reveal party, I’m ‘team green’ if you will.  But people knew my maternal grandmother was going to die and placed all of this hope on me... Like don’t wallow don’t mourn a baby is coming, don’t drink yourself to death, don’t look for the whys of death because there’s why of life right in front of you, never has there been such balance nor has justice been so poetic. To lose a woman and gain a woman.  It is how my mother wraps her head around a trauma to make sense of the universe. She is still badly hurt. She talks about her mother who I never met whenever we talk, but her father who died about 8 years ago now, and I have very clear memories of, she never brings up in the same way. My mother says I am my grandmother’s soul, she says I am her own soul, she says my femaleness will guarantee her longevity in the scheme of things because of our cosmic uterus connection?  My brother has never gotten a conversation like this. I have asked him. I have asked her. I was told as family politics go, that a first grandchild is a good social position, a first grandson that does not continue on his maternal grandfather’s name is a waste of a good boy. I got to hear and absorb all of the toxic masculinity and never had it be about me. Regardless, everyone loves him. HE DOES BETTER ON PAPER like, he owns 4 vehicles and went to business school and owned his own failed company and likes sports and has no tattoos and ppl really like the straight white dude aesthetic he gives off which is: good ol' boy likes sports and beer and don't mean nothin' by his subtle rightwing jabs all day WHICH WORKS FOR HIM AND IF I COULD HAVE FEWER CHALLENGES I WOULD FUCKING TAKE IT like imagine god came down right now, like, Kenny, we can hit redo and you'd be born a boy BUT you'd never learn the femmey empathy bullshit and would probably be a big wanking racist who coasted by life without ever knowing challenge and would ultimately be of weaker character me: HIT RESET MOTHERFUCKER! Like if i ended up just happening to still be a nice person that's great, but i should not have to exist as "well things sucked and you didn't turn into a Gotham villain so you know, that's worth more than a penis when you think about it” No it isn't? not to me-- but this is my lot in life and how I feel like I can set things right somehow, since living my life is such a blow to everyone around me. Point is: if my mom will believe me being male will UNDO her mother's passing into the next world being one of ease and proof of divine intervention, then surely, the baby being born the same month, when there are so many months would provide some comfort.  I am happy to have a baby of any month, but I would like that baby soon because I am running out of time/money/spoons and have been on the verge of a meltdown (about this) for 2 years now...   I articulated this VERY carefully to a gender therapist and to a regular therapist about how my brother could transition and it would be weird a little weird since there has never been any indication that he is not feeling at home in his body because he’s such a man’s man BUT there is not the same unraveling of destiny at play? I want her to know that while I respect her belief that where my life started was significant, where my journey takes me should be the focus from here on out.  What I tend to believe is that, people can use whatever coping mechanisms and structure that gets them through, it doesn’t matter if it’s weird, it doesn’t matter if you agree, if it is not hurting anyone-- and had I continued on afab and continued identifying as a woman, this would line up perfectly and no one would question if it was really all that weird, since it would just be a mother trying to keep her own mother’s memory alive through her children. People name their kids after relatives all the time. People say you have your nana’s eyes all the time. That’s not that weird. However, a straight cis male gender therapist who’s empathy was severely lacking, since he purposely deadnamed me as a trick to see if I would fight for my gender in an appointment, I was uncomfortable but because I didn’t raise my voice in a psychiatric wing, I didn’t want it enough, when really I wanted it enough that I would passively take abuse so that I could have my T letter. He  was like, ‘sounds like your mom is just nuts’ and she is otherwise a very giving, loving, generous, understanding person except the best and worst year of her life was the same year. In any other situation in the entire world I would not for a second question her love for me. Dad loves me but I always fear does not know me or anything about me. I was not an easy child. I cannot explain my nervousness any clearer.  I am very anxious because I have decided to come out as trans and announce my pregnancy on the same day so that there can be no misunderstanding about who and what I am from this point onward.

((Hello. This is a newer character that I’ve been working on. He’s maybe a few months old but I’ve really liked working on him and his backstory. This may sound silly but I’ve never submitted a profile for a character who is transgender and I hope that this is written well. I know this shouldn’t be a big deal, but I don’t want to offend anyone. I hope I wrote his profile well too. I’m looking for help with his profile, development and backstory, so basically everything because I feel like my profiles are awful.

Image is created and edited by me on my Sims 4 game.

World: This is character is from my Space series. It’s 2036 and Demons and Aliens are on earth. Ren is one of the characters that can be seen in space or on Earth. These aliens are interesting because they are like humans, but they are stronger, they age slower, and they come with different sorts of powers. When mothers are pregnant, they have telepathic connections to their child and once the children are born they can raise themselves if they have to which is why most of the children in this backstory are doing different things. Viggo is a different character who was reviewed by Mod Shields. There are a few translations on this page and if you have questions then feel free to ask))

Name: Ren Silla

((Reign Sheila))

Real Name:

 Kharmin Volta-Oskaalivik

Gender: 

Transgender Male

Sexual Orientation: 

Pansexual

Age:

 On his planet he does not have a birth date, but he would be 88 or 89 years old. 

Birthdate:

 A'maranians don’t have birth dates, but for Earth purposes it’s February 29th 1988.

Occupation: 

Ren is a bodyguard and an occasional hit-man. He was an assassin, but now he sometimes works as bodyguard.

Alignment: 

Chaotic Good

Group/Organizational Affiliations: 

He is affiliated with Viggo and anyone that he is working with at the moment. 

Family: 

Kharmon Volta-Oskaalivik: 

She is his identical twin sister. They are actually very close and she was very supportive of him as he was transitioning, but he’s afraid of her. She’s a gladiator on their planet and she’s always trying to fight him. They favor facially, but she is more muscular than him and a bit meaner. She loves him and he loves her. 

Mimikya Volta-Alakkiria: 

This is his dad and they have a great relationship. Mimikya is from the north and his powers are strange because he can control ice and water vapor. When his son came out to him, he was confused at first, but he was supportive of him. He does hate that his son works as a contract killer.

Behdo Roseith-Oskaalivik: 

She is his mother. From birth, she knew that her child was different. She didn’t care and she loves him anyway. Her powers are that she can control cosmic energy that radiates from planets or stars.

Best Friends: 

Viggo Hwajae-Alakkaria- Viggo has been his friend for many years. They have known each other since they were children and he was the first person that he came out to. Now he works as Viggo’s bodyguard and he’s never more than 300 feet away from him. They also call each other friends with benefits.

Relationship Status: 

Single

Significant Other: 

None

Other Relationships:

None at the moment. 

Height: 

6'3

Weight: 

220lbs

Build: 

Lean but muscular because of his job. 

Skin Tone: 

Dark with Goldish-tan undertones.

Hair:

 Jet black, which is a Southern trait.

Eyes: 

Highlighter pink, which is a Northern trait.

Identifying Marks: 

He’s biracial, he has braces, and he looks lizardlike.

Appearance:

            The most noticeable thing about Ren is that he is of mixed heritage. He has tan skin with black hair, but his eyes are pink, meaning that he’s of North and South origin. He has a handsome face with what has been described as a “shark like” smile. He has braces, but he voluntarily got them because he thought that they looked cool. He is about 6'3, 220 pounds and like all A'maranians he has a tail that has a black tuft on it, but he has silver rings that are on the end of it. He has a lean build, but he is muscular because his job is rather physical. His hair is always seen as being shoulder length and it is rather straight. Sometimes he has his hair slicked back, or sometimes he has a bang, but he has never had it longer. He paints his nails neon white while his sisters are always painted black. Because he is a Bodyguard he is always seen wearing black, or something with the color in on it because black is an intimidating color. Red is the color of where he is from, so he always has that on somewhere, even if its a red bracelet. He also wears boots that go up to his knees.

Personality: 

Ren has a rather interesting and weird personality. It’s been noted that he acts like his friend Viggo, this meaning that they are charismatic and charming, but Viggo is a bit more serious and slightly more mature. Ren is mature, but he tends to joke around or space out often, which causes him to forget what he’s saying. He can laugh and have fun, but when he’s on his job, he’s focused. He’s generally calm and level headed when it comes to danger, and most of the time he’s really relaxed. He’s weird because he says his thoughts out loud, and he thinks about the oddest things.

Motivations: 

Exploration. When hes doing his job he’s always looking forward to traveling.

Current Goal: 

Completing his contracts that he’s gotten.

Life Goal: 

He wants to enjoy who he is.

Motto:

 "Just give me a contract and I’ll do the rest".

Best Quality: 

This dude is on his job. He is an excellent worker with an amazing work ethic. He’s also one of those people who would risk his life to keep his friends safe. He’s always there to lend an hand and it would offend him if someone would reject his help.

Worst Quality: 

He’s moody sometimes. He’s always been that way, and Viggo has described him as being picky. He has a certain way of doing things and he won’t change his ways when it comes to his job. He tends to get over emotional sometimes when it aimed to doing his job. He doesn’t realize that he makes decisions that are based off of his feelings. He’s been known to take a contract and he goes to talk to the person that he’s supposed to kill. 

Fears: 

Shershen’ Soldiers. He’s pretty brave but he has a deep fear of them. Mainly because he knows that he can’t kill one by himself and they never travel alone.  He’s also afraid of his sister because she’s a bit of a handful. 

Hobbies: 

He likes doing his nails. They are always perfectly manicured and painted nicely. He will fight anyone who tells him that he shouldn’t be doing that. 

Talents: 

He’s never noticed it himself, but he has a nice singing voice. He sings to himself when he’s bored. Like most A'maranians, he’s fluent in two languages. 

Skills: 

He’s learning more about his powers and in the process he’s learning he’s hand symbols. He’s learned how to do lightning and although he’s not at Viggo’s level, he can scorch someone pretty bad. He’s also really good with a sword.

Abilities: 

Like everyone of his race, Ren can fly and adapt to the span of space. His powers are centered around Quantum Magic, so he can control certain things when he is in space only. He can teleport, create time warps and he can manipulate the atmosphere and environments of different planets. He also has limited control over ice, but not to the extent that his father does. 

Weapons: 

He’s the only known A'maranian that uses a gun. He carries around has been identified as a Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun and he’s very efficient with it.

Secret: 

He wasn’t aware that his gun had a brand name until he got to Earth.

Influential Memory: 

Coming out to his parents. He was really scared at first and although they were confused and scared for him, they completely understood and helped him with his transition. 

Role Model: 

His dad and his mom. Although they weren’t home a lot, he’s glad that he knows them. 

Also Viggo is a role model of his because his confidence is infectious. 

Crush: 

He kind of has a crush on Viggo’s friend Chaiu, but that guy is picky. He openly admits that he doesn’t like Ren because he’s a contract killer. 

Source of Embarrassment: 

When he’s really stressed out, his voice cracks sometimes. 

Source of Pride: 

His natural accent. He’s worked hard to keep it and it’s distinctive. It like a very Australian man who is trying to hide his accent with an American one, but it’s pleasant to listen to.

History:

Ren was and is still Viggo’s good friend. Growing up he knew two things about himself. 1) he was different in more ways than one, and 2) He is a living contradiction on his planet. His Father was from the North while his Mother was from the South. He was born with magic powers, which was an anomaly because A'maranians have no magic abilities at all. He never knew why he had these powers, but he liked having them and even as a child he exhibited great control over them.

          When he was five years old, he met another A'maranian who was different too. His name was Viggo and he was partially human, which scared a lot of people because he couldn’t really control his powers. They instantly clicked and they were the best of friends. Ren and his sister would hang out with Viggo all day and they even snuck him into their house when their parents were gone for the week. He usually came to eat, but he was a great story teller and they liked having a friend who was older than them.             As he got older, Ren was having some difficulties with understanding who he was. On his planet everyone was equal. There was never any discrimination towards a certain part of the culture, and gender roles were equal. Although he tried he couldn’t hide how he was feeling. Nobody really paid attention, but his mother knew that there was something that her child had to tell her. His only real friend was Viggo, and he was the first person that he told about his feelings. Because their planet was close allies to Earth, a lot of books were sent over for the A'maranians to read. They went to one of their libraries and found books that Ren felt that he could understand. He had read stories that scared him about bad experiences that happened to humans, but he spoke to Viggo first. He came out to him and Viggo was glad for his friend, but worried because he was going to make himself sick with worry. Ren eventually made the decision to come out to his parents. His sister was fine with it just as long as she could still fight him up from time to time, his mother already had a feeling, and his dad was actually confused because he didn’t know that his child felt this way. Being the scientific person that he was, he did research because he wanted to understand how his child was feeling. They told him that they wanted him to be happy, and they did everything to help him with his transition like helping him with hormone therapy and other things that were to help him. 

He was 18 now and it was time for him to go into the academy. He was upset that Viggo couldn’t attend himself, but he was glad to hear that he decided to join the ___ Priesthood. Ren and his sister were accepted at the same time and throughout their academy days, they were well known. “The Volta Twins” were always combative and they would usually get into fights with other students. Like his sister, he was a natural fighter, and a bit rebellious. He loved his parents line of work and he respected them for it, but he didn’t want to become a scientist at all. He wanted to know more about the neighboring planets, so he went off the beaten path and he enlisted to become an assassin, which was a respected but extremely dangerous profession. When he told his parents about this they were extremely upset because they knew that he could do more. After much thought, they felt that their son could handle himself and they spoke the council, who approved his application. Not wanting to be outshined by her brother, his sister became a Gladiator in one of their battle arenas. Before they went their separate ways Ren, his sister, and Viggo had a party with his family. He was going for training and was away from his planet for about 20 years. As part of their training they had to adopt a code name, so he chose to call himself “Ren Silla” which meant “The Revenant” in their language. 

When he returned to his planet where he did some parts of his job on Acrinco. It was going well and he mainly had contracts that dealt with corrupt people and gangsters. He never knew anything about those that he was supposed to kill, and he never paid any mind, but eventually he was given a contract that he had a problem with. Someone wanted him to assassinate an up and coming Soldier that was named Viggo Hwajae. He was told that there was someone who was supposed to get the position as the Army Captain, but the commanders saw that Viggo was more of a leader and a better soldier. Apparently, the man who was up for the promotion was denied because he was racist, nobody really trusted him, and he felt that the A'maranian half-breed had no place serving in the royal army. Ren was shocked and he could have sworn that he was a confirmed priest by now, but he had no idea that he was a full-fledged soldier. He took the contract and he used it instead to track down his old friend. He eventually tracked him down and he spied on him. He saw that Viggo was indeed in the army. He had no idea that his friend was still on their planet and he was truly happy to see him again. Remembering his contract, he used it instead to kill the racist soldier, and as he was gathering important documents he saw that this man was giving army secrets to the Makarasan Empire, their enemies.              Knowing that he went against a contract that he was obligated to fill, decided to go to the council and he became a petitioned to become a free agent. He liked his job, but In a strange way he really hated not knowing about the people that he killed. The council accepted and he was allowed to operate as a Free agent as long as he completed his contracts fully and completely. He quit being an assassin and he eventually became a hunter, which was a more enjoyable and dangerous line of work. 

            He was free to do what he wanted, so he spent the day visiting friends and family. Ren went to talk to his sister who was now an enlisted gladiator, he saw his parents and they were well, and then he met up with Viggo. He was shocked to see that he had changed and that he was doing something that he liked. They got to talking and Viggo told him about what has been going on while Ren told him about being an assassin, quitting and becoming his own employer. Viggo told him that he was going on a rather risky mission and that he needed a partner with him to help. Ren didn’t really have anything to do, so he offered to come with him. They did about 10 different missions together before Ren decided to work as his personal bodyguard. He accepted and he has been working with him ever since because they trust each other.

Welcome back!

The great thing about these characters is you have a very involved world. You understand what your characters are doing and why inside that environment. They have backgrounds that are separate but intertwined that mesh together.

Once again though I’m seeing some personality, job, and motivation aspects that simply aren’t working as cohesively as they could.  Instead of looking at individual things let’s really delve into how all of these sections can come together.

Ren is described as a lovable, charming guy who spaces out, says whatever odd thing he thinks and wants to travel. This sounds like a person who is not compatible with a bodyguard, especially a bodyguard to a friend. Bodyguards become friendly with their clients all the time, but covering someone who starts as a friend is tough because of the distraction factor. Also, talking to and befriending targets makes a hitman un-hirable very quickly. Is this really what he wants to be doing? They sound more like fellow soldiers than bodyguard and protector. Why does Ren like killing people so much? He’s described as relaxed and calm yet he likes being a hunter because it’s exciting and dangerous. I’m seeing some dissonance here.

Now for the second issue I’d like to tackle, Ren’s identity as a Trans individual. As you may have noticed here at SOC we are super trans friendly. We get a lot of characters who are not cis/het, and there are some issues we commonly see on trans profiles. Every single relationship you defined in the profile talks largely about coming out reactions. There’s so much in relation to him being trans that I’m losing how he connects as a person. His relationship with his father is great. Why? Do they have similar personalities? Interests? What do they do together? He and his sister fight physically. Do they also compete for parental affection? Does he favor one parent to another? If these are important people to him give me more than how they felt about him coming out.

I also always wonder why alien species are often limited to binary genders. Your characters can manipulate and fly through space so they obviously have non-human characteristics. Why are they still female/male only? Why does his Dad have to find trans information on Earth instead home world? Is he literally the first transgender person in his specie? That would be a very difficult thing to explain to people who had never even heard of the concept before. If gender roles are completely equal how does he explain needing to make a purely physical change to people who don’t understand dysphoria?

For anyone who is trans, coming out and transitioning are major events, but they do not define personalities. For Ren make sure his coming out is a distinct, honest, and accurate moment in his history. Then leave it in his past. Yes, there are still struggles, yes it’s part of daily life, yes outing can still happen and have consequences, but his relationships with the people who know need to reflect that he knows who he is and he’s moved on.

Happy Writing,

-Shields

I was pretty shell-shocked after my dad passed. I knew it was coming for 11 years. but the feeling of permanence didn’t hit me until I reached out and held his hand as he lay where he died; in his bed, cold and stiff. the hospice chaplain said some soothing words I can’t remember. I looked up and I remember a very slight, very deep panic hit me. it wasn’t supposed to be today. I didn’t get to say goodbye. did he know I loved him? where the fuck do you go from here?

we went back the next day to move everything out. my uncle came down from new york to help; my cousin had seen my post about it on facebook and told him, and he called my mom to tell her he was coming. she hadn’t even asked. we didn’t even know where to start. I told mom, just get it out. I know what I want to keep. if I can’t decide now I’ll keep it until I do. mom was clearing off the dining table he’s had for years. she asked me if it was okay to throw out some fortune cookies that had been sitting there amid the clutter. almost definitely from one of our dinners. I don’t know if he ordered from the chinese restaurant next door when I wasn’t there. I started crying almost immediately and shook my head. it really wasn’t okay.

this was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I don’t know how we did it in one day. we got lucky to get some junk haulers to come that day (usually they’re booked out well in advance, but of course you can’t predict these things. it was september 26th, and we didn’t want to pay october rent). we loaded up my uncle’s truck and my mom’s car. unloaded furniture at my aunt’s house 15 minutes away. I was stone-faced the entire time. my mom and uncle made a drop-off without me at one point and I sat on the floor and looked at the empty space and cried again. I was just here. he was just here. I was just sitting with his doctor, wheeling him out of his last appointment in his wheelchair. he just joked with the security guy and the lady taking payments for the parking garage. we were just sitting in the bank together, putting my name on his account. I’d just brought him skittles in bed, because he wanted something with flavor. I had a long day, I wanted to get going home. I turned out the lights, left his classical piano radio playing. “love you, sweetie, goodnight”, from his bed. I said “goodnight, love you too”, and held my hand on the doorknob. I paused for a second before I opened it. I don’t know why. maybe somehow I just knew that would be the last time I’d see him alive. at one of his last appointments, I heard his doctor tell him she worried that 4 weeks without chemo would be too long. we tried one last round, but a week in he decided he’d had enough. he made it 5 weeks. and suddenly here I was. in an empty room.

I think we went back the day after that to finish up cleaning things and hand in the keys. we all went to a deli for lunch. I really wasn’t hungry, but I ordered pancakes anyway. safe enough. had to choke back tears once again as I sliced through them, because I realized that I always prep my pancakes the way dad taught me. I even remember him teaching me. butter in between so it melts with the heat, then cut into thirds lengthwise and crosswise. then syrup. I shoveled piece after piece into my mouth so I wouldn’t cry.

I don’t remember the next few days. I remember going to target at one point, not sure if I needed something or not. but I’d found a gift card dad had given me for my birthday the year before and it still had money on it. I wandered the store in a haze, not really looking at anything. I wanted to gift myself something that I would enjoy that reminded me of him; something I feel like he would have given me himself. I found a collection of necklaces and bracelets in the jewelry section; each one was held by a card that had a description of the symbolism. there were some tacky, cheesy ones, like love and faith and a lot of other bullshit you’d see tattooed on a white girl, probably. but the one that stood out to me was a delicate sterling silver necklace with a tiny v-shaped charm at the center, labeled gratitude. “everything comes to you in the right moment. be patient. be grateful.”

I had to go through all his stuff after I brought it home. mom doesn’t like a mess, and everything we’d brought home was sitting on the first floor, taking up almost the whole room. all dad’s paintings, his two computers, his art supplies and cleaning stuff and appliances. everything. he didn’t own much, though, so it was manageable for me. I brought what I thought was the most important stuff up to my room and I sat on the floor and sifted through it to organize it. I shredded a lot of old papers. I didn’t even know he kept all the divorce papers. all the attorney letters. old receipts. but I found important things too, that he and I never looked at together. his high school and college diplomas. his work from college on cancer research (the irony). his old glasses, even from childhood. family history records, dating back to the early 1800s in what is now croatia. so many pictures. letters from his mom, when she and grandpa lived in arizona. I never got to meet them, but I think I really would have liked my grandma. I think I got her smile. she was a gorgeous lady. and sounded so sweet. I found a christmas card from her, and she had written in “you are always in our thoughts, know that you are loved – mom + dad” and I burst into tears again. he’d even kept his baptism certificate, and the little milestone calendar they gave his mom at the hospital when he was born. december 28th, 1945. his little, tiny footprints in ink on the first page.

then I found his birth certificate.

it hit me like a truck. I could hold his birth certificate and his death certificate both in my hands. a whole life between two pieces of paper. and that’s all that’s left. that, the box of ashes at the foot of my bed, and a few storage bins of things, most of which I know he didn’t even care about. I could hear his voice in my head when I couldn’t decide on what to do with something of his: “it doesn’t matter to me, whatever you want to do, sweetie”. is that really it, then? suddenly you’re here, suddenly you’re not? and what is there to show for it?

but the more I think about it, the more I’m determined to say that can’t be it. maybe he was here for a tiny blip on the timeline that is human history. maybe we all are. maybe once his brother is gone and my brother is gone and my mom is gone and I’m gone, it might be like he never existed at all. he’ll be a name in an obituary, a co-author on one research paper that probably isn’t even useful anymore. so it is with everyone who has ever existed, whose faces I’ll never see, whose names I’ll never know. maybe on a grand scale, none of us are important. did he have a purpose here? do I? I know why I’m here. I’m here because my mother always wanted a blonde, blue-eyed little girl, and by 30 she felt her time was running out. she married the first one who’d agree to it, and she got her blonde, blue-eyed little girl. except that’s about all the expectations of hers that I met. she wanted the child in her dreams, she got me. I didn’t ask to be here. nobody did. we all end up here somehow, and we all die.

maybe there is no point. but my dad’s effect– all the words, actions, lessons he taught me– are still with me and always will be. they’re in the way I prep my pancakes. they’re in the way I drive; he was much more patient than my mom and had me from sitting nervous in a parking lot to cruising down the highway in 2 hours; she could barely get me on the road without yelling at me. he taught me the word empathy before I could even understand what it meant. I hope I never forget his laugh or his smile, but if I do, that’s okay, because I’ll know at least that I got to enjoy them at one point in my life. maybe cosmically speaking none of us matter. but my dad means so, so much to me. and maybe that’s what’s more important. mattering to the people that matter. who cares if some person in the distant future doesn’t know who I was? what I did? I’d rather have them know me now, rather than not being able to control the game of telephone that undoubtedly happens through time. how much do we really know about anyone we don’t know personally?

what was the reason my dad was here? who knows. but he still tried to enjoy the little things. he tried to make people laugh, with his weird sense of humor. I just saw on timehop today, 3 years ago, dad had probably called me. it snowed a lot that winter. “this is great packing snow. I asked about 20 people to have a snowball fight and they all refused”. the last few years he only ate sugar-free candies because he said the sugary ones made him kind of sick, but he kept 40-count boxes of fruit gummies at home. he’d take a few in his bag when he’d go places and hand them out to cashiers, bankers, waiters, his nurses and doctors. just to see them smile over something little. once I got a fortune in a fortune cookie from one of our dinners; it simply said “it tastes sweet”. I showed it to him, confused but still slightly amused by it. he said, “that’s life, sweetie. dolce vita.”

sweet life. he’d been depressed and suicidal for years. and yet.

Tom Evans and Kate James, from Liverpool, have faced a battle to keep their 22-month-old son Alfie Evans alive. He is at Alder Hey Hospital where he has been hospitalised since December 2016, dealing with chronic seizures of an undiagnosed disorder. The hospital have fought Alfies family yet again over night as his father was told he would be arrested for assault if he touched Alfie despite gaining last-minute legal documents granting him permission to remove his baby boy from the clutches of the hospital who still refused to release him ahead of plans to switch of life support machines keeping the toddler alive.

Alfie Evans Saved?

FRIDAY APRIL 13

ITV presenters covering the races live at Aintree have just been talking about the Alder Hey Children’s Charity Handicap Hurdle at 14:45 and said:

“Right let’s mention Alder Hey the great hospital and the race winner today look there it is number 13 on Friday the 13th.

“A grave winner.

“They do such good work there I have got a child, a local family who have a sick kid there and what a job they do.

“Lets hope the children, staff, doctors and nurses are watching, they really are absolute heroes and heroines they truly are”.

The city of Liverpool is currently involved in a spiritual war with Alder Hey Hospital over the treatment of Alfie Evans

During the day the commentators and presenters kept highlighting how the horses were going down to the post 4 minutes early and having to wait, it happened twice 44.

The number 44 signifies deception and sacrifice, a stab in the back. The assassination of Julius Caesar was the result of a conspiracy by many Roman senators led by Gaius Cassius Longinus, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, and Marcus Junius Brutus. They stabbed Julius Caesar to death in a location adjacent to the Theatre of Pompey on the Ides of March (March 15), 44BC. Liverpool Football Club was founded on March 15, 1892, today they were drawn to face Roma in the Semi-finals of the Champions League (911). This weekend also marks the 29th anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster (29 is 911).

Alfie Evans

APRIL 12, 2018 – SOMETIME THIS MORNING:

This morning I got up to look out f the window thinking a military helicopter had flown where I live, I did see it but I never got a good look at it so I just pondered on it. It was travelling away from the Mersey, inner city and could of been heading towards Aintree Race Course or John Lennon Airport but it was not heading in that direction.

THIS AFTERNOON:

As I was writing an email to Merseyside police regarding my Alice Day campaign I realised the last numbers in my phone number 314431 Which to me is just a blatant 444. So, instead of looking at bad meanings I went for a more light heated numbers explanation and it is then I interpreted it as a message of some sort . This from my Facebook page today. Angel Number 444 asks that you pay attention to your intuition and inner-wisdom as your connection with your angels and the angelic realm is very strong at this time.. Angel Number 444 is a message that you have nothing to fear in regards to your life, work and Divine life purpose.

ABOUT 7PM:

I had just been the shop and my purchases cost £4.88 and after my earlier Facebook post about my phone number being 444 I was thinking £4.88 is another 44444 with the £4 and 88 being 44 44. Then the same helicopter flew over my head as I was thinking about these 4’s. I am still not sure if it was military or somebody being picked up from Aintree Race course but it was seen flying over Liverpool in the opposite direction towards the the River Mersey by another person at around in a 3rd sighting at 14:00.

9PM:

With the Syrian Conflict and Members of Parliament having a cabinet meeting to decide if we should begin military action in The Middle East I found myself checking the gematria on the word War which brought up a host of usual Satanic suspects.

While I was there I was talking about Alfie Evans to a friend my stomach was turning as I said I’ll not be voicing my onions for at least 6 months out of respect and compassion towards the whole family. Its too sad and causing a lot of pain in the city. After seeing 4’s all day this is what came out when I searched Alfie’s name though all of the numerology categories. Satanic came out as 444, I now knew why my stomach was turning and why I had seen 4’s all day, this is where they lead me to.

More 4’s

Today is April 12 which is 4/12 or 12/4 in American format.

4/12 is 4444 with the 12 breaking down to 3, 4’sand the other 4 representing April.

April 12 is the 102nd day of the year (103rd in leap years) in the Gregorian calendar.

In freemasonry they do not recognise the zero so 102 becomes 12, 12 is 444.

Maybe a good sign for Alfie’s fight and why I believe I have been seeing the number 4 is some say seeing the number sequence 444 or 4444 repeatedly is a “Cosmic ‘No!'” that “indicates a ‘No’ to absolutely anything”.

After seeing all this I now know why I have seen 4’s all day, they have been signs. And to see lead to Alfie in Satanic terms just confirms what they are trying to do to the poor baby. The people deciding Alfies fate have fought tooth and nail to murder him and have it take place in April on Friday 13th, just as the city is flooded with visitors attending the Aintree Racecourse for Ladies day on Friday ahead of Saturdays Grand National.

March 22 marks the start of an extended season of sacrifice From which runs until May 1st.  Within this period there is another significant timeline which plays from the 19th of April to the 1st of May. This is a 13 day season of Sacrifice when child sacrifice is required I have written about this a hundred times even people who do not pay attention to my posts will of seen me talk about April 19 and April on a whole as a high time of sacrifice. It has been my most active month with writing etc. The 1st week of May is Beltane when the fires start burning for 6 days I’ve told everyone how this is why Liverpool suffered The May Day Blitz in 1941. During the Blitz, Mill Street Hospital was bombed and the maternity ward was hit killing a large number of new born babies, mothers, nurses and medics Injured soldiers in the next ward escaped any injury at all which has always lead me to believe a bomb was planted in the maternity ward and that was another child sacrifice to Ba’al as depicted in the image below.

As I was finding this out about Alfie, a protest was breaking out at Alder Hey hospital after his father, Tom Evans went live on Facebook to state that he had obtained a document giving the right to remove him instantly whilst removing the duty of care from Alder Hey. Tom was with a team of his own doctors who had ventilators and duty of care was to be handed to the Air Ambulance who would then fly Alfie to Italy to begin treatment. The family are fighting to save their son from the somewhat blood thirsty Merseyside NHS establishment who have shown they have not moved on since the days of the baby organs scandal which came to light in 1996. It is believed doctors are intending to switch off Alfie Evans’s life support machine at 12:00 on Friday 13.

Tom Evens also called for for members of the public to gather in a peaceful crowd close to the hospital and request the release of his son after they refused the lawful action and called police to assist in stopping the removal of Alfie. In his live stream which has had over 600 thousand views, Tom says the police have been called to help Alder Hey by standing in the way as they make preparations to murder his child. He was told if he touched Alfie he would be arrested for assault.

Tom went on to say: “Look what the world is coming to, sitting waiting eagerly for them to legally release our boy

“Here is the documentation, they have phoned the police, they have phoned the police over a child, look how innocent the boy is.

“He lays there still not diagnosed, eagerly awaiting his trip home.

“How can it come to this”.

Tom’s powerful plea was followed by demonstrations outside the hospital with hundreds of people demanding the baby is allowed to leave the place that seems intent on killing him.

LADIE’S DAY AINTREE & ALFIES DAY ALDER HEY PLANNED FOR APRIL, FRIDAY, 13, 2018?

At the start of the week I noticed we had Friday 13 to look forward to with intrigue and with the world famous Ladies day taking place at Aintree Race Course on day 2 of the annual meeting which reaches its climax with Saturdays Grand National. This prompted me to make this post again on my Facebook profile. This was on Saturday, April, 7, 2018.

My post read as follows: Uh Ohhhh its Friday 13th next week which means it is 13 days after the April Fools Easter. April 13 is the 103rd (13+13=26) day of the year. There are 262 days remaining in the year which is a 26 62 mirror. The 13 13 we have in the date of April 13 and it being 13 days after Easter Sunday means it is worth keeping an eye on events such as Ladies Day at Aintree Race Course and Saturday’s when the famous Grand National is held on the 14th which breaks down to a 77 which is the code for a false flag hoax attack used by Freemasons. Think of the 7/7 London bombings and you will see the jig-saw come together. 6 days after the 13th is the 19th, April 19 marks the start of what is known as the as the 13 days of preparation for Beltane Fire Festival which runs from May 1st to the 6th. During these 13 days events will happen as they have each year. Victims will be killed or kidnapped and held until their sacrifice. This build up to Beltane is ended by Pagans lighting the the flames of the Beltane fire festival which burn for one week. This whole period is highly associated with child sacrifice. Fires have been seen this during the first week of May for as long as I have covered these subjects. It is also with pointing out that the Fordica Festival on April 15 which is most acquainted to the Hillsborough sacrifice is on the 3rd Sun-day of the month of April which began with an April Fools Ishtar. 

Looking at the picture above you see an image of the bell of Beltane, she has flowers in her hair making up a decorative hat on her head. I have done a video about the flowers in girls hair Facebook filter tired and the sinister meanings are hidden behind it all are on display at Aintree where we will see thousands of ladies with flowers in Their hair over the three day event.

If you think they do not foreshadow these events then I will prove to you that something has been going on regarding and imminent event in Liverpool and I have tracked sins for a couple of years at least now and this past year has been unlike any 12 months I have known when it comes to predictive programming with Liverpool being shown in many of the mass media events we have seen.

Here is some more examples you may well remember, and again you will have even more pieces of that jig-saw you thought about before.

MANCHESTER BOMBINGS – MAY 22, 2017

EMMA STEVIE PARSONS GREEN SEPTEMBER 15, 2017 – “HILLSBOROUGH” “CRUSH” “STAMPEDE”

OXFORD STREET INCIDENT 4 MONTHS AGO – LIVERPOOL PREDICTIVE PROGRAMMING

LIVERPOOL ECHO ARENA CAR PARK FIRE 14.000 CARS BURNT IN FIRE? – NEW YEARS EVE

CHINESE NEW YEAR LIVERPOOL LAND MARKS LIT UP IN RED UNTIL OCTOBER

FLORIDA SCHOOL SHOOTINGS – DAVID HOGG’S GIRL FROM THE HOOD BEATLES FAN SIDEKICK, YEAH RIGHT

KEN DODD – MY BIG FAT FREEMASONIC FUNERAL – VIDEO & ARTICLE

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2018/04/03/ken-dodd-freemasonic-funeral/

ERIC BRISTOW – DIED IN LIVERPOOL IN APRIL

LIVERPOOL F.C THROUGH TO CHAMPIONS LEAGUE SEMI’S  33 YEARS AFTER HEYSAL DISASTER, 6TH EUROPEAN CUP ON ITS WAY TO ANFIELD?

Heysal was 33 years ago. We won it 5 (2.5 2.5 77) times (Baphomoet) on May 25 2005 which was 13 years ago. This year I have suspected it will be 6 (33) times the final is held on the 26th this year. 26 is 13 13. 34 (7) years ago we played Roma in the Final. May 26 is the 146th (111) day of year with 219 (1119) remaining in the the year May 25 is the 145th with 220 remaining (22) We see The King of Egypt we spoke about in the summer with the signings and Firmino (Firmament) scoring tonight and who else but Gabriel Jesus number 33. The first game was 3 – 0 the second was 2 – 1 (3 or 777) this is another 33 in the scores over two legs. Its all over it.

I mentioned the Champions League Semi-final draw at the start of the article. Here is proof this is all linked in and planned, even the draw which placed Liverpool and Roma together, what a surprise given the Merseyside and Roman connections not only on this article but this whole website is full of them, I have dedicated 4 years to showing Liverpool what we are surrounded by, teaching you who runs the show in our very Masonic city. This image below shows a post on Twitter from Liam Faircloud who tweeted prior evidence of UEFA corruption around the draw which meant these to cities of The Empire will meet 34 years after Liverpool beat Roma at The Olympic Stadium in 1984. 3 + 4 is 7 which is the code for hoaxes and false flag attacks.

A storm erupted around the governing body of the Champions league last night when Roma Fans were sent emails by the club which asked if they would like to select their seats for their Champions League Semi-final with Liverpool. The obvious problem here is the draw had not happened. When the clubs were then pitted together for the semis, claims of corruption which could be seen all over social media were justified.

The draw was today at midday, the same time Alfie was to be killed by Alder Hey, the draw was fixed here is the proof, ps, be sure to note how the Liam Faircloud’s Twitter account was instantly suspended.

Twitter users were all over it and posted their opinions about the seemingly rigged draw and wondering about the whereabouts and safety of Liam Faircloud after his account went missing shortly after exposing the draw as being staged by UEFA.

Others replied as the mystery became a concern to everyone but the obvious nature of the hoax draw was not to be ignored in a host of tweets throughout the day. I must add that all these tweets, including Liam Faircloud’s came BEFORE today’s Champions League draw.

On an article called Winter Olympics Feb 9 – 25 & Valentines Ritual Watch,  published, Feb 9, I named a set of key dates that are usually ear marked for events such as terror attacks, fires, active shooter situations and Satanic Cult Sacrifices. The dates were all taken from my Freemasonic Liverpool research article in a section I refer to as the Liverpool attack map where I show a sequence of dates that directly effect or have hidden references to Liverpool the city and Football club. I have kept track of these dates monitoring synchronicities as they get closer and closer to the place I was born and raised. In the timeline I mention February 14 as a certain date for an attack and I explained once again about how it will be in celebration of the three hearts of Lupercalia.

Feb 15 – Lupercalia – The Lupercalia like most of the dates discussed here requires human sacrifice and was a very ancient, pre-Roman pastoral festival, held on February 15 to honor Faunus, pagan god of fertility and forests. Lupercalia subsumed Februa, an earlier-origin spring cleansing ritual held on the same date, which gives the month of February (Februarius) its name. As well as human blood offerings a male goat is also sacrificed at the Alter of Lupercalia as well as  a dog. The ritual was observed by Jupiter’s high priest. It is also a celebration of how Rome got its name when Romulus killed his Twin brother Remus on one of the seven hills of Rome. The twins were raised by a wolf called Lupa. This date also falls one month before the Ides of March  which is when Julius Caesar was stabbed in the back as Rome was liberated in 44BC. Two months later on April 15 it is the start of the Willow Tree month along with the Fordica festival when a pregnant cow was sacrificed, the calf fetus burned and the ashes saved for the Parilia festival. Fordica was marked with the Hillsborough disaster in a modern-day ritual leaving the highly masonic number 96 etched into all our memories.

Liverpool FC was founded on June 3rd, 1892 although first became a club earlier in the year on the 15th March 1892.

There are 96 years between June 3rd, 1892, and the day of the Hillsborough disaster – April 15th 1989.

From 3/6/1892, Liverpool founded, to 15/4/1989, Hillsborough disaster, = 96 yrs plus 96+96+96 days and 96+96+96+96+96+96+96 hours. (96 yrs and 316 days.), 96 dead.

The image you see above is of Romulus and Remus who was killed by his brother as Rome was given its name. It is the same image that is on the Roma club badge and was seen around the world this week as they knocked Barcelona out of the Champions League before being drawn against Liverpool. Remember where The Pope lives? Do you see the mockery of Alfie Evans in his tweet now? Do you see the game played by UEFA? Look at the Roma badge. It is all linked.

Romulus and Remus were twins, we see Liverpool Football club with the Twin Flames on is logo which were added to the badge after the Hillsborough disaster to remember the 96 victims who were killed on April 15, 1989. Liverpool as a city has had to endure a lot of pain over the years as this article has explained. It has always been our price for success but it may not be as simple as that. These people who inflict trauma on our city actually get off on it. They attacked the Twin Towers in New York which was built 811 (8×11=88 Twin Serpents) years after Liverpool was founded. Liverpool and New York both share Twin Towers as a theme of memory of the world famous waterfronts and this gives me a chance to explain how the Liver Buildings are Liverpool’s Twin Towers and how our city is built on curses.

Liverpool Foundation – 1190

Liver Buildings – Opened: 1911

Travel time from Liverpool to New York, World trade Centre – 9 hours 11 mins

Liverpool, New York (USA) Daylight hours in December 9 hours 11 mins

Liverpool May Day Blitz (Beltane Fire Festival) 119 other explosives such as incendiaries were used.

Alfie Evans – Enchanted LifePath – Liverpool

The infamous World Trade Centre stands in our memories as a symbol of terror, I spotted another synchronicity when looking at the Royal Liver Buildings, Liverpool and the World Trade Centre, New York, both landmarks overlooked world famous waterfronts, both had the twin theme running through them, but Liverpool’s Twin Towers will of gone generally unnoticed as twin towers before now, so what does water and twins link to?

This makes me think of Gemini (Twins & The Creator) and Aquarius.

Aquarius is the eleventh astrological sign in the Zodiac, originating from the constellation Aquarius. The water carrier represented by the zodiacal constellation Aquarius is Ganymede, a beautiful Phrygian youth.

Gemini is the third astrological sign in the zodiac, originating from the constellation of Gemini. Under the tropical zodiac, the sun transits this sign between May 21 (3) and June 21 (3). Gemini is represented by The Twins Castor and Pollux. 11 x 3=33.

The Liver building opened in 1911, the building is the purpose-built home of the Royal Liver Assurance group, which had been set up in the city in 1850 to provide locals with assistance related to losing a wage-earning relative. One of the first buildings in the world to be built using reinforced concrete, the Royal Liver Building stands at 98.2 m (322 ft Skull & Bones) tall to the top of the spires, and 50.9 m (167 ft) to the main roof.

It is located at the Pier Head and along with the neighbouring Cunard Building and Port of Liverpool Building is one of Liverpool’s Three Graces, which line the city’s waterfront.

THE LIVER BIRDS

Liverpool has many well known landmarks with the city having made a lasting impression on the world stage through the Football Clubs, The Beatles and the Slave Trade of course. We live in a very symbolic city (as I am showing you here on this article) with one of the great visual icons being The Liver Birds which have sat proudly on top of the Royal Liver Buildings since 1911 (9/11). But again, there is a story behind the Liver Birds that is hidden in plain sight and yes it is another song and dance about Sun Worship and sacrifice.

As with all secret traditions and beliefs systems which herald from ancient Greece, Rome and Egypt they carry a mythology with them through generations with the whispers of the people keeping stories alive by telling children the tales of the past. As well as Liverpool being steeped in in symbols from those mythologies for example, you only have to walk around the city centre to see the Neptune statues and carvings in a lot of the buildings, but Liverpool has its own mythology in the story of the Liver Birds. But where did the story originate from? Let’s take a look at the Wikipedia version first.

After King John founded the borough of Liverpool by royal charter in 120, the city The borough’s second charter was granted by Henry III in 1229,  giving the townspeople the right to form a guild with the privileges this came with, including the right to use a common seal.

This was the birth of Liverpool’s association with what is known as the Liver Bird, but what type of bird is it and what else does it symbolise?

The Liver Bird is thought to of originally been an Eagle which was used as the symbol of John the Evangelist who was the namesake and the Patron Saint of King John ( St Johns Market). Records tell us The plant sprig is interpreted as broom, a badge of the Plantagenet dynasty. Also visible on the seal is a star and crescent, one of King John’s personal badges.

In the 17th century, the birds identify had been forgotten and started b to be known as either as a cormorant, a common bird in the area, or as a “lever”.  It is when we look into the cormorant bird and mythology around it when we start to see why it is looking down over our city.

The amount of secret references to Satan discovered on this article regarding this city is beyond belief but this next one is something which will again highlight just how these crafty bastards code the devil into almost every detail within our surroundings.

The cormorant bird features in biblical teachings in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve are watched by Satan from on top of the tree of life having turned into the bird after leaping down from Mt. Niphrates toward Earth. Observing Gods creations from the Garden, he found it’s beauty fascinating, yet, weighing up his role in the world, he decided his best option was to either destroy Gods Kingdom or at least divide it as he chose Evil. This came before he presented himself to Adam and Eve as a serpent having seen their love for each other as a symbol of Gods image he then set about to destroy their peaceful life in paradise with temptation to eat the forbidden fruits from the Tree of Knowledge.

Cormorants feature in heraldry and medieval mythology, usually in their “wing-drying” pose, which was seen as representing the Christian cross, and symbolising nobility, sacrifice and greed.

This is what is looking down over Liverpool with the Liver Buildings representing the tree of life and the city being the Garden of Eden which Satan has set about to ruin. The devil deceives, this is why instead of a Lord’s Cross on top of the Liverpool Twin Tower Liver Buildings we have a bird which featured in the Bible before the serpent. This is why this city is cursed, these are the spells placed over us all each day as we go about our lives earning our daily bread, our home is built to celebrate sacrifice and sin.

We have just learned a couple of things about the Liver Birds which not many people are aware of so let us take a moment to look into the meaning of the eagle which is what the Liver Bird was originally thought to be.

The Eagle is symbolic to the Scottish rite of 33rd degree Freemasonry and is used on masonic logos by secret societies who have carried on the mystery teachings of ancient Babylon. There is proof of their existence all around us it is just a matter of training your eyes to be able to spot the signs and symbols, in a way, you need to learn how to see backwards to decode it all.

The double headed eagle is associated with the concept of Empire. Most modern uses of the symbol are directly or indirectly associated with its use by the Roman/Byzantine Empire, whose use of it represented the Empire’s dominion over the Near East and the West.

To understand why the eagle is a satanic symbol I have to explain the story of Nimrod, the Sun God to you briefly.

The Freemasonic eagle with two heads looking left and right, east and west, is symbolic of Nimrod in the role of Eannu. Eannus, is said to have held the keys to the doors of heaven and he was the sole intermediary between God and humanity.

Nimrod (the great grandson of Noah) followed in his father’s footsteps (Cush) and rebelled against God with his wife Semiramus. Nimrod was sentenced to death and his body was chopped up into pieces and parts were sent to other cities as a warning.

His wife fled in despair, after claiming her husband had ascended to the Sun she went around each city collecting the parts of her beloveds corpse and was able to collect all except for his penis which is why we see the phallic symbol on world landmarks and is the true meaning of the Christmas tree also with Nimrod’s birthday falling on December 25th. This proves the festive season to be just another repackaged ancient Babylonian mystery teaching like everything else we celebrate blindly.

Semiramus gave birth to a son on December 25th and claimed it was the reincarnation of Nimrod who had returned to rule the world, this time of year is known as the birth of the new Sun. The dance of creation and destruction is riddled throughout this story and that brings us to the sun and moon worship and how the Liver Buildings have this same theme etched into them.

The Liver Birds face east and west. The male looks over the city to the east (the people) while the female looks over the River Mersey (Prosperity) to the west. Anybody who lives in Liverpool can look at the sky every day and see the Sun rise in the east and watch it follow it’s path right over the city before setting over the Mersey to the west, this is what the Liver Birds are depicting. They are honouring the sun and moon as they travel across the city.

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I mentioned Neptune earlier, Neptune was the name that ancient Romans gave to the Greek god of the sea and earthquakes, Poseidon. He was the brother of Jupiter (Zeus) and of Pluto (Hades). Below is an image of the Liverpool Coat of Arms and look who features with his pitchfork along side our flying friends….

The ambassador of Liverpool, the Devils brother himself, oh what a lovely tea-party.

The next word I want to show you is liver as in the first half of the word Liverpool this is something I have been eager to get to, and as always I did learn a thing or two myself. So here goes with one of the most revealing parts of the article as it confirms Liverpool is under a spell and how we are caught up in a spiritual war which Alfie has been caught up in and how most of this information is unknown to the masses.

This is a cryptic corker if ever I have seen one and the numbers don’t lie. Straight out the bag we have 30 in the Full Reduction but Freemasons do not recognise the zero so this drops down to a 3 and 3 is the magic number which is a reference to the Holy Trinity and the Rosa Mystica which we will get back to later when we look at Nelsons Monument on the grounds of Liverpool Town Hall, and believe me it is loaded with 88’s.

Reverse Full Reduction of the word Liver gives us the number 33 which is not good. The Reverse Ordinal is 69 and this brings us to the 69/96 as above so below mirror. This is seen on every Masonic Lodge entrance and is symbolic of the Royal Arch. The number 96 has left an ever lasting pain on The City of Liverpool with the victims of the Hillsborough tragedy tallying up to the occult number. The diagram below shows the number 69 on the Royal Arch. Can you see the hallmark of the Freemasons all over Hillsborough? I can.

  In case you wanted more information on the Royal arch, here is a screenshot from the Liverpool Group of Lodges & Chapters website which you can click to be directed to the page that explains all. Who do you think make these decisions? normal people like me and you do not sit in these offices making these choices, all this with Alfie is from higher up, much higher up than you can imagine.

To finish off on he liver we have Chaldean 17 which is 1+7=8 which is a Saturn reference, I will cover that subject later on in the article but we end the numbers game on English Ordinal 66.

In Greek mythology, Prometheus was punished by the gods for revealing fire to humans, by being chained to a rock where a vulture (or an eagle) would peck out his liver, which would regenerate overnight. (The liver is the only human internal organ that actually can regenerate itself to a significant extent.) Many ancient peoples of the Near East and Mediterranean areas practiced a type of divination called haruspicy, where they tried to obtain information by examining the livers of sheep and other animals.

In Plato, and in later physiology, the liver was thought to be the seat of the darkest emotions (specifically wrath, jealousy and greed) which drive men to action. The Talmud refers to the liver as the seat of anger, with the gallbladder counteracting this.

The term “Talmud” normally refers to the collection of writings named specifically the Babylonian Talmud.

In other biblical and spiritual references the liver also signifies interior purification, for the liver purifies the blood, but the intestines purify those things from which the blood is derived. This denotes the good of the external or natural man, is because by the bullock, in which is this caul, is signified the good of innocence and of charity in the external or natural man (AC 9990).

Elsewhere the liver signifies the external good of innocence such as belongs to infants, because before the rest of the viscera have been fully formed for their use, which is the case when the infants are embryos, these are nourished through the liver, all the nutritious juice is brought there through the placenta and the umbilical cord from the womb of the mother. This juice corresponds to the good of innocence.

Do you understand this is why Liverpool has so much pain over the years? This is the reason we endure tragedies like Hillsborough, whilst the families have been forced to fight these Freemasons for Justice for the 96 for almost three decades. This is why Alfie and his parents have been put through hell?

It has been said before that you can’t knock Liverpool down and keep it down, the people will remain strong spirited through the darkest days and these people who initiate this pain on our city know this. They have us placed in an emotional loop of which they thrive on the negative energies it creates. Yes our city has had its good times but they have come at a price. The founders of Liverpool struck a deal with the devil in return for prosperity and the pain inflicted since has been the price to pay for success. it is coded into the name of the city it is in our faces day in day out. We live in the liver loop. The liver (spirit) regenerates the pool (people) after purification of the blood occurs (sacrifice) and it will go on forever (loop).

They are playing sick games with us Liverpool and I will do all I can to bring you the information to open your eyes to it all. I  understand this is difficult to take in but please just keep observing and learning, then pretty soon it will all make sense.

Writing this article for you and highlighting so much darkness surrounding our city is not nice, it is draining and this has  been so sad to see what I see and not be able to make enough of you aware. For the past 24 hours we have all been part of a collective consciousness with us all hoping, praying and wishing for a happy outcome in the life of Alfie Evans and his loving family. I have tears in my eyes because  I know they have been put through this ordeal by design and to see my city stand up to the powers that be the way we have has made me proud to be able to present you to the world in my own unique way.

We are still awaiting Alfie’s release but given the amount of energy we have put into this effort at the last minute, I can not see how they can carry out the horrific murder of the 2 year old boy who we have on our minds more than ever right now but we do live in a sick world where these people lust off human and child sacrifice.

I am telling you the city is fighting pure evil head on.

I hope reading the article helped you ti understand why this is happening, it will be difficult for many, but there is a lot of people who will get exactly what I am saying. You will not see this point of view anywhere else. This 6000 word article with videos and pictures tells you why Alder Hey continued to stand their ground on plans to murder little Alfie as of Friday, 13, 2018. This now means we are likely to see crowds gathering outside the hospital to grow as more people have time of work to join the protest which has received world wide coverage via Facebook Group Alfies Official Army. This is the one main weekend of the year where the city would usually unite in memory of the Hillsborough victims. 29 years after the horrific day in Sheffield, Liverpool faces another weekend of despair when April 15th arrives, but this year there are fresh wounds being inflicted, and all our thoughts are with Alfie Evans and his parents along with their immediate friends and family.

Alfie Evans Alder Hey 444 Sacrifice Ritual Attempt In Liverpool? Friday 13 Tom Evans and Kate James, from Liverpool, have faced a battle to keep their 22-month-old son Alfie Evans alive.

37 Quotes On Fighting Ego, Building Character And Developing Strength & Humility

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37 Quotes On Fighting Ego, Building Character And Developing Strength & Humility

God & Man

Ego is one of those things that’s very hard to define, but easy to spot when you see it. Even as someone who spent years researching and then writing a book about the dangers of ego, I have trouble nailing it down exactly. Here’s a shot: Ego is that outsized sense of self-importance, that malignant self-absorption, a belief that one is somehow inherently better and entitled to more than everyone else. It’s the voice whispering in our ear, alternatively, that we’re invincible and that we’re a piece of shit who should make everyone pay. Ego is that toxic force that makes teamwork, empathy, vulnerability and artistry impossible.

We know this…and yet all of us are guilty of it. Perhaps that’s because the real insidious part of ego is that while we can immediately recognize it in other people, when it comes to our own behavior and our own thoughts, ego whispers once again that we’re different.

Below are some of my favorite quotes about ego—quotes I’ve written down in moments of battling my own ego—as well the awesome books from which they came. I hope you can find a use for them in your own writing, on social media, or better yet, use them in your real life.

Enjoy!

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“Ego is an evil thing. Confidence is important but ego is something false. Humility is the way to build confidence, and ego is hugely dangerous in this sport, because if you’re running on ego you aren’t running on good clean emotions or cause and effect. You bypass it to support a false idea. It’s all garbage, the ego is garbage.” Frank Shamrock The Fighter’s Mind

“Your ego can become an obstacle to your work. If you start believing in your greatness, it is the death of your creativity.” Marina Abramovic Interview in The Economist

“William Burroughs always talks about the world is nothing but allies and enemies. And it’s important to understand what things around you are the enemies and a lot of the time your worst enemy is your ego.” John Frusciante (Source)

“At any moment in life you can convert to realism, which is not a belief system at all, but a way of looking at the world. It means every circumstance, every individual is different, and your task is to measure that difference, then take appropriate action. Your eyes are fixed on the world, not on yourself or your ego.” Robert Greene & 50 Cent The 50th Law

“You don’t make it far if you have a big ego. The guys that come in here with huge egos get smashed until they learn. Verbal reasoning won’t work, that’s where those guys live…you just gotta smash them until they get humble. And build them back up, if they can stand it.” Greg Jackson The Fighter’s Mind

“Whenever the world throws rose petals at you, which thrill and seduce the ego, beware. The cosmic banana peel is suddenly going to appear underfoot to make sure you don’t take it all too seriously, that you don’t fill up on junk food.” Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.” Stephen King On Writing

“‘Your job is to get on base,’ says my son’s baseball coach. Ego likes a line drive, resulting in a double or triple, but, end of day, the goal of getting on base eclipses the how of getting on base. Just get there.” Callie Oettinger on Steve Pressfield’s blog (Getting on Base and the Long Game post on Steve’s blog)

“From my very first real fighting experience in Thailand, I saw that the best fighters were the most humble. But much like jiu-jitsu, you start to see it as a ‘chicken-and-egg’ problem. Is it that great fighters lose their ego? Or is it that you cannot become great unless you lose your ego? Your ego keeps you out of the zone? Guys who can naturally control big egos do better?” Sam Sheridan The Fighter’s Mind

“Thus, a great deal of time and energy in the world of the New England Patriots went into selecting players who were at least partially immune to displays of ego and self. This did not mean Bill Belichick was without ego—far from it. His ego was exceptional, and it was reflected by his almost unique determination. He liked being the best and wanted credit for being the best, a quiet kind of credit. But his ego was about the doing; it was fused into a larger purpose, that of his team winning. It was never about the narcissistic celebration of self that television loved to amplify.” David Halberstam The Education of a Coach

“Perfectionism is the ego’s wicked demand. It denies us the pleasure of process. Instead, we are told by the ego that we must have instantaneous success— and our perfectionism believes it, lock, stock and barrel.” Julia Cameron (Source)

“[Bill Belichick] was a man for better or for worse, remarkably without artifice. He had little gift or interest in modern public relations—if anything, he seemed almost uniquely resistant to it for someone so much, however involuntarily, in the public eye. He was about one thing only—coaching—and wary of anything that detracted from hit, and in his mind, much of the modern media, especially television, did precisely that—not just because it took up time that could be better spent doing other things, like watching a bit of film for the tenth or eleventh time and working with assistant coaches, but because it was singularly dangerous, it fed egos, and swollen egos detracted from the essence of football, which was the idea of team. Modern media created a Me-Me-Me world, whereas he insisted on a We world.” David Halberstam The Education of a Coach

“I don’t want to see you. I don’t like you. I don’t like your face. You look like an insufferable egotist. You’re impertinent. You’re too sure of yourself. Twenty years ago I would have punched your face with the greatest of pleasure.” Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

“[Level 5 leaders] are somewhat self-effacing individuals who deflect adulation, yet who have an almost Stoic resolve to do absolutely whatever it takes to make the company great, channeling their ego needs away from themselves and into the larger goal of building a great company. It’s not that Level 5 leaders have no ego or self-interest. Indeed, they are incredibly ambitious—but their ambition is first and foremost for the institution and its greatness, not for themselves.” Jim Collins (Source)

“Our job, as souls on this mortal journey, is to shift the seat of our identity from the ego to the Self. That’s it.” Steven Pressfield (Source)

“Resistance seems to come from outside ourselves. We locale it in spouses, jobs, bosses, kids. “Peripheral opponents,” as Pat Riley used to say when he coached the Los Angeles Lakers. Resistance is not a peripheral opponent. Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. Resistance is the enemy within.” Steven Pressfield War of Art

“Leaders must be willing to put the ship’s performance ahead of their egos.” Michael Abrashoff It’s Your Ship: Management Techniques from the Best Damn Ship in the Navy

“The great corrupter of public men is the ego—corrupter because distracter.” Dean Acheson Fragments of my Fleece

“Avoid having your ego so close to your position that when your position falls, your ego goes with it.” Colin Powell It Worked for Me: In Life and Leadership

“There’s no ego. Ego is the enemy, really. Being able to communicate in clear, concise fashion and make decisions as quickly as you possibly can. Knowing that first and foremost, we’re looking out for what’s best in the organization.” Seahawks GM John Schneider (Source)

“Ego says ‘I can do no wrong’, whereas confidence says ‘I can get this right.’ Confidence says ‘I’m valuable’ while ego says ‘I’m invaluable.’” Todd Henry (Source)

“The challenges they had faced together had taught them humility—the need to subsume their individual egos for the sake of the boat as a whole—and humility was the common gateway through which they were able now to come together and begin to do what they had not been able to do before.” Daniel James Brown The Boys in the Boat

“I believe that the biggest problem that humanity faces is an ego sensitivity to finding out whether one is right or wrong and identifying what one’s strengths and weaknesses are.” Ray Dalio (Source)

“Leaders must free their subordinates to fulfill their talents to the utmost. However, most obstacles that limit people’s potential are set in motion by the leader and are rooted in his or her own fears, ego needs, and unproductive habits. When leaders explore deep within their thoughts and feelings in order to understand themselves, a transformation can take shape.” Michael Abrashoff It’s Your Ship: Management Techniques from the Best Damn Ship in the Navy

“So here’s what you do: You say, “I have no ego at all.” Let’s start that way. “I have no ego, no cause to puff myself up.” Now let’s learn about the cosmic perspective. Yeah, we’re on a planet that’s orbiting a star, and a star is an energy source and it’s giving us energy, and we’re feeling this energy, and life is enabled by this energy in this star. And by the way, there’s a hundred billion other stars that have other planets. [..] So those who see the cosmic perspective as a depressing outlook, they really need to reassess how they think about the world. Because when I look up in the universe, I know I’m small, but I’m also big. I’m big because I’m connected to the universe and the universe is connected to me.” Neil deGrasse Tyson (Source)

“Steve Jobs had a remarkable knack for letting go of things that didn’t work. If you were in an argument with him, and you convinced him that you were right, he would instantly change his mind. He didn’t hold on to an idea because he had once believed it to be brilliant. His ego didn’t attach to the suggestions he made, even as he threw his full weight behind them. When Steve saw Pixar’s directors do the same, he recognized them as kindred spirits.” Ed Catmull Creativity Inc.

“Fight your own pride and ego and be open-minded and always learning new techniques, new things from anyone.” Sam Sheridan A Fighter’s Heart

“Egotism sucks us down like the law of gravity.” Cyril Connolly The Unquiet Grave

“The hallucination of separateness prevents one from seeing that to cherish the ego is to cherish misery. We do not realize that our so-called love and concern for the individual is simply the other face of our own fear of death or rejection. In his exaggerated valuation of separate identity, the personal ego is sawing off the branch on which he is sitting, and then getting more and more anxious about the coming crash!” Alan Watts The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are

“But there is another side [of ego] that can wreck a team or an organization. That is being distracted by your own importance. It can come from your insecurity in working with others. It can be the need to draw attention to yourself in the public arena. It can be a feeling that others are a threat to your own territory. These are all negative manifestations of ego, and if you are not alert to them, you get diverted and your work becomes diffused. Ego in these cases makes people insensitive to how they work with others and ends up interfering with the real goal of any group efforts.” Bill Walsh Interview (Source)

“Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.” Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

“We’re all the stars of our own movies, but cutting back on the number of Do you know who I am? thoughts made my life infinitely smoother. When you don’t dig in your heels and let your ego get into entrenched positions from which you mount vigorous, often irrational defenses, you can navigate tricky situations in a much more agile way. For me humility was a relief, the opposite of humiliation.” Dan Harris 10% Happier

“The most striking features of the ego are three cognitive biases, which correspond disturbingly to thought control and propaganda devices that are to be defining characteristics of a totalitarian political system. The three biases are: egocentricity (self perceived as more central to events than it is), “beneffectance” (self perceived as selectively responsible for desired, but not undesired, outcomes), and conservatism (resistance to cognitive change).” Tony Greenwald, Professor of Psychology at the University of Washington (Source)

“But what about the huge egos of guys like Michael Jordan, who needed control over the court? Or Kobe Bryant? Their monstrous egos obviously don’t keep them out of the zone—Jordan’s the defining athlete of the concept. I can imagine it’s because they can compartmentalize and, in the moment, remove any trace of self-consciousness from what they do. They control it, like they control everything else. And they’re at peace with it, with taking the pressure shot.” Sam Sheridan The Fighter’s Mind

“[Bill Belichick] was completely dedicated to fighting off the virus caused by too much ego, all too aware of what it could do to his dominating purpose — playing championship-level team football. But a man like that, who was so driven to win, and who excelled again and again at such a high level, was hardly without ego. Instead, he had learned how to make his ego work for him, and to keep it from being a negative force.” David Halberstam The Education of a Coach

“When ego is gone, you wake up in the middle of the circle and now you’re a part of—not apart from—Life, Good, God.” Chuck C. A New Pair of Glasses

“The egotist does not stumble about, knocking things off his desk. He does not stammer or drool. No, instead, he becomes more and more arrogant, and some people, not knowing what is underneath such an attitude, mistake his arrogance for a sense of power and self-​­confidence.” Harold Geneen Managing

“My opponent is my teacher. My ego is my enemy” Renzo Gracie (Source)

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Quotes on Writing: 19 Classic and Contemporary Lessons from Black American Writers

I grew up in Memphis, Tenn., a city steeped history in general—but specifically in Civil Rights history. In the early 20th century, Memphis was the cotton capital of the world, home to industries dominated by (white) landowners and still mired in racial divisions that had lingered since the Civil War. A crossroads settled at the center of the North and South and home to a large population of black workers, Memphis was geographically and culturally destined to play a major role in the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s.

The city’s history rose to a sharp and tragic crescendo in April 1968, when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated when he visited to support a strike by city sanitation workers.

If you’ve never had the opportunity to visit Memphis and experience the living history that still hums in the air, from Beale Street to the Lorraine Motel, I recommend it.

Perhaps in part because of my connection to the city, Martin Luther King Jr. Day is always a time of particular reflection, and even moreso given the racially focused discussions and conflicts we face today. At such times, I often turn to the words of the black American writers whose voices are recognized around the world for their wisdom and timelessness. I thought I’d share some of my favorites here today.

One note, however: One of the most relevant quotes I’ve found, from a March 30, 1981 interview with Toni Morrison in Newsweek, admittedly made me question whether I ought to be presenting these authors together at all.

Of course I’m a black writer…. I’m not just a black writer, but categories like black writer, woman writer and Latin American writer aren’t marginal anymore. We have to acknowledge that the thing we call “literature” is more pluralistic now, just as society ought to be. The melting pot never worked. We ought to be able to accept on equal terms everybody from the Hassidim to Walter Lippmann, from the Rastafarians to Ralph Bunche.

As Morrison suggested, black writers are not a monolith—nor should they be considered as such. Shelly Stratton suggested something similar in another Writer’s Digest article about the problems with considering, for instance, black women’s fiction to be its own genre.

As such, my aim in this post is not to suggest that these authors ought to be grouped together as one—but instead, to recognize the range of thought leadership and genres in which black American writers have become icons, and the depth of the lessons we can learn from them. The writing community and the larger market still have a long, long way to go in terms of truly reflecting global and national diversity through the voices of writers, but these authors and their stories have paved the way for readers and writers to forge a more inclusive future for the literary world. Their words teach universal lessons to us all.

Writing Insights and Tips by Iconic Black American Writers

Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. It is a seeking that he who wishes may know the cosmic secrets of the world and they that dwell therein.

— Zora Neal Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road (1942), from Ch. 10: Research.

Intelligence is ongoing, individual adaptability. Adaptations that an intelligent species may make in a single generation, other species make over many generations of selective breeding and selective dying. Yet intelligence is demanding. If it is misdirected by accident or by intent, it can foster its own orgies of breeding and dying.

— Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower (1993), Chapter 4

I believe there is power in words, power in asserting our existence, our experience, our lives, through words.

― Jesmyn Ward, The Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks about Race (2016)

The act of writing requires a constant plunging back into the shadow of the past where time hovers ghostlike.

— Ralph Ellison, a quote from Writers at Work (1963) edited by George Plimpton

I can give tips on many things, but not productivity and time management. One thing I do is make time. Everyone loves talking about how busy they are. But there are 24 hours in a day. Make a half-hour or hour in a day, or an hour in a week, for writing. Just make sure you have at least one designated time—however long it is, given your constraints—to focus on writing. I treat my writing like a job, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean I give it the respect of a professional endeavor, not a hobby. Even when it was a hobby, I treated it like a job. It is important to do that because craft takes time and demands respect.

— Roxane Gay, Writer’s Digest September 2017

72 of the Best Quotes About Writing

Art has to be a kind of confession. … The effort it seems to me, is: if you can examine and face your life, you can discover the terms with which you are connected to other lives, and they can discover them, too — the terms with which they are connected to other people.

— James Baldwin, from “An interview with James Baldwin” (1961); an interview with Studs Terkel published in Conversations With James Baldwin (1989)

You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important. Art would not be important if life were not important, and life is important.

— James Baldwin, from “An interview with James Baldwin”

The ability of writers to imagine what is not the self, to familiarize the strange and mystify the familiar, is the test of their power.

— Toni Morrison, “Black Matters” in Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination (1992)

The instructor said,

Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you — Then, it will be true.

— Langston Hughes, “Theme from English B,” Montage of a Dream Deferred (1951)

But please remember, especially in these times of group-think and the right-on chorus, that no person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended.

— Alice Walker, In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose (1983)

MAYA ANGELOU: You are about five-three, white, Midwestern—right?

[Interviewer] CAROL BENSON: Yes.

ANGELOU: I’m six foot, black, Southwestern. If we started looking at each other and our differences, our family background and personal history, we could find so many differences. But those are tangential, those are peripheral. There are really no differences. We are, first, human beings. And so when you weep, I understand it clearly. When you laugh, I understand it clearly. When you love, you don’t have to translate it to me. These are the important things. Now if you want to tell me what happens in the Midwest, what the summers were like, what you ate for picnics—we can talk, and I can tell you what happened in Arkansas and what happened in California in the ’40s and all that. But those are tangential.

— from an interview in Writer’s Digest, January 1975

Writer’s Digest Digital Archive Collection: Iconic Women Writers

Human nature is not simple and any classification that roughly divides men into good and bad, superior and inferior, slave and free, is and must be ludicrously untrue and universally dangerous as a permanent exhaustive classification.

—W.E.B. DuBois, from his writings, quoted in The Wisdom of W.E.B. Du Bois (2003) edited by Aberjhani

I think my love for books sprang from my need to escape the world I was born into, to slide into another where words were straightforward and honest, where there was clearly delineated good and evil, where I found girls who were strong and smart and creative and foolish enough to fight dragons, to run away from home to live in museums, to become child spies, to make new friends and build secret gardens.

― Jesmyn Ward, Men We Reaped (2013)

The more closely the author thinks of why he wrote, the more he comes to regard his imagination as a kind of self-generating cement which glued his facts together, and his emotions as a kind of dark and obscure designer of those facts. … But the moment he makes the attempt his words falter, for he is confronted and defied by the inexplicable array of his own emotions. Emotions are subjective and he can communicate them only when he clothes them in objective guise; and how can he ever be so arrogant as to know when he is dressing up the right emotion in the right Sunday suit?

— Richard Wright, from the introduction to Native Son (1940)

And then, while writing, a new and thrilling relationship would spring up under the drive emotion, coalescing and telescoping alien facts into a known and felt truth. That was the deep fun of the job; to feel within my body that I was pushing out to new areas of feeling, strange landmarks of emotion, tramping upon foreign soil, compounding new relationships of perceptions, making new and — until that very split second of time! — unheard-of and unfelt effects with words.

— Richard Wright, from the same introduction

Language can never “pin down” slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity is in its reach toward the ineffable. Be it grand or slender, burrowing, blasting, or refusing to sanctify; whether it laughs out loud or is a cry without an alphabet, the choice word, the chosen silence, unmolested language surges toward knowledge, not its destruction. But who does not know of literature banned because it is interrogative; discredited because it is critical; erased because alternate? And how many are outraged by the thought of a self-ravaged tongue?

— Toni Morrison, Nobel Prize Lecture (1993)

“Human beings fear difference,” Lilith had told him once. “Oankali crave difference. Humans persecute their different ones, yet they need them to give themselves definition and status. Oankali seek difference and collect it. They need it to keep themselves from stagnation and overspecialization. If you don’t understand this, you will. You’ll probably find both tendencies surfacing in your own behavior.” And she had put her hand on his hair. “When you feel a conflict, try to go the Oankali way. Embrace difference.”

— Octavia E. Butler, Adulthood Rites (1988) Part II “Phoenix” chapter 4 (p. 329).

I know when it’s the best I can do. It may not be the best there is. Another writer may do it much better. But I know when it’s the best I can do. I know that one of the great arts that the writer develops is the art of saying, No. No, I’m finished. Bye. And leaving it alone. I will not write it into the ground. I will not write the life out of it. I won’t do that.

— Maya Angelou, Paris Review Interview (1990)

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Full Snow Bone Hunger Moon Sermon Hail Marduk, Interstellar Guardian of this Plane and Father to us all, hear us! There are many things that are set to occur tonight but the thing that is happening already is a serious violation of your creation and I don't mean just the Earth itself, I mean your children are suffering at the hands of those who have grown so corrupt that they are blinded by pure greed and indifference to life! It would be easy enough to blast all the guilty parties but what I want to focus on is building the collective energy of all those who stand for the Earth, this cosmic island which we rely on to survive as individuals but also as a species and even more importantly as a part of the Great Web of Life! When the Earth was nearing completion, the war between the Ancient Ones Tiamat and Apsu, their armies and the New Gods Enki and Marduk and their armies was raging. The one thing that threatened not only the Earth but existence itself was Tiamat, the Chaos Snake-Dragon! As much as Enki knew that magic would not defeat her and Marduk knew brute force would not kill her, they still rose up and did battle with her in the name of PROTECTING THE SACRED! When they were engaged in combat with her they knew there was a possibility that they might not survive but they also knew that if they stood by and did NOTHING that not only would they not survive but that nothing and no one else would either! Even more to the point they knew that they themselves would be responsible for not doing everything in their power to stop it because when all is said and done the destruction caused by the Snake-Dragon would eliminate ALL life that she came into contact with! Knowing what they did they did, did they throw their hands up and say that all hope was lost? Did they bow down to the idea that she was the Creatrix and therefore reserved the right to do as she pleased? Did they tell everyone else in their armies to attack anyone who resisted Tiamat's rage? NO! Why? Because they ALSO knew that being the Creatrix did not entitle her to annihilate everything and everyone JUST because ONE person betrayed her! They would not bow down because to do so was to accept death without opposition, they would not cast down their swords nor throw up their hands in defeat because they knew that the outcome of the battle was NOT just about THEM but ALL ELSE as well! Enki did what he could with his great and powerful Magick and when he realized that his part was over Marduk stepped forth and continued to fight back and dismantled Tiamat's army! When Marduk had successfully subdued Tiamat he knew he could not kill her, she IS a Goddess after all therefore she is immortal, so he did the next best thing, he split her into one and two halves. What I mean but that is that when he fired Enki's magic arrow down her throat and "severed her heart in twain" what he really did was separated her Spirit from her Flesh sending her Spirit back into the Cosmos while he severed her body in half, sending the tail end to wrap around what we now call the Milky Way and the head was cast down to complete the Earth itself. I have stated this before but if you look at the word Earth, you will notice that it is actually an anagram for Heart - in other words the Earth is where the Heart of the Dragon lays "Dead But Dreaming" - and since we all know Death is NOT just a physical thing, we know that Tiamat is for all intents and purposes still alive! Marduk was exalted to the level of Supreme Being because of his heroic actions defeating Tiamat and stopping her blind slaughter in its tracks and was later known as the Adversary who rose in opposition to the Creator AKA Satan. Satan is no more guilty of Inciting A Riot than ANY of the Water Protectors and had he been treated by Anu or even Enki the way that the Water Protectors are being treated - being told to stand down rather than rising up - by the current authorities, not only would the outcome of the battle been a WHOLE LOT DIFFERENT, but nothing would have remained except possibly the Snake! Tonight is the night of the Full Snow Bone Hunger Moon and we are in a very similar situation with a snake that stands to be equally as destructive if it is not stopped! We all have the choice to stand by and just let it happen OR to be inspired by Marduk's actions and rise to the occasion to resist the selfish and arrogant egos that are once again threatening the Earth as well as everyone and everything on it! We have the choice to say there is nothing we can do because the enemy is too powerful or too strong or has too many tin soldiers who are all too willing to shoot people in the back among other things and we have no way to combat them when we KNOW this is not true! We have the TRUTH! We have the WILL! We have the POWER! We have the SPIRIT! They can NOT match us because they can't even rise up to meet us! They are hoping that they will drag us down to their level and the more we RESIST, the more frustrated and pissed off they get! THIS is our power, our strength and our defiance! This is us coming together NOW just as Marduk, Enki and the rest came together THEN to fight back against another Snake! Our Power does not lay in senseless violence, this is why SO many people the world over have joined in solidarity and have been voicing their support QUITE LOUDLY, because they too are sick of the violence that is engulfing the whole planet and for what? BLACK SNAKES! Just because the Snake may not be slithering around your neck of the woods DOES NOT mean that it WILL NOT affect you when it BITES! Even if the water it contaminates is nowhere near you DOES NOT mean that something you purchase WON'T be poisoned, remember the state of the Gulf Coast after the Deepwater Horizon disaster! The marine life was toxic and could not be sold, as a result the economy of places such as Louisiana and Mississippi, as well as Florida suffered! The destruction was even more severe to the WATER and the EARTH as well as all other life forms that came into contact with the oil! This is why it is necessary for all of us to come together in defense of the Water and Earth, to show our Father who could have just as easily given up and let the Snake of HIS time get their way, that we will NEVER back down no matter what because like him, WE will emerge triumphant! Our Power is in our deep Spiritual Connection to the Elements; Earth, Air, Fire and Water as well as our Connection to the Unseen and the Multiversal Qi! Our Power is in knowing that what you SEE is NOT what you get, that there is more going on than our physical eyes can see, ears can hear or hands can touch! Our Power is knowing the value of life and death in equal measure and in not allowing ourselves to be corrupted by greed or materialism! This does not mean we can't want or acquire material things, it simply means we don't LIVE to acquire them and we certainly will not KILL people or animals or DESTROY the environment in pursuit of them! We know that both Light and Dark MUST be kept in Balance or else EVERYTHING dissolves into chaos in which NOTHING can survive! If anyone thinks they can live in a state of CONSTANT chaos, please attempt to reside in your nearest active volcano crater and let us know how it worked out for you! Our Power is being better than out enemy who thinks that we are nothing, they are not only wrong but they will realize that there is more than one way to skin a cat! That just because we won't come charging over the hill with guns blazing DOESN'T mean that something ISN'T coming their way that is not only going to disrupt things, but is ultimately going to knock them on their asses! True power comes from within because that power is perpetual and everlasting whereas power that comes from without eventually dries up and becomes nonexistent, this is because that type of power is reliant on other people's money to purchase physical weaponry, armor, vehicles etc... If you rely on solely on that kind of power then when you no longer possess it you will be completely powerless, however, if you build up your personal power and spiritual prowess then you will ALWAYS have the upper hand because NO ONE can take that away from you no matter how many rubber bullets then shoot you in the back with or how much poison they rain down on you or how much they soak you in subfreezing temperatures! As much as they like to think they are in control and how much sick pleasure they might take in the cruelty they treat people with, they are going to find out they are no match for our collective will, our collective strength, our collective ability to make things happen that they can't explain and can't counter because they don't possess the kind of power that really matters! They also do not have Father on their side because Father does not care for those who not only brutalize those who are protecting his Creation, he does not care for those who have become SO corrupt that they value INANIMATE OBJECTS over LIVING BEINGS! It is THIS level of corruption that caused the Anunnaki to bring down the flood the first time, the difference is that those of us who have not been corrupted are doing everything that we can, some even going so far as to literally put themselves in harm's way, to prevent the destruction of the water supply "Reality Check Can you hear them in the distance? The Dragons are roaring alerting the Clans! Can you see the shadows stretching across the frozen tundra? The hunters are on the move and the Moon is their only light! Can you feel them all around you? They are sniffing the air and catching your scent! Can you understand what is happening? The ones you called out to have answered and are responding! Can you run fast enough? Your lies and deceit are about to catch up with you! Can you cover your tracks? No matter where you run your footprints in the snow will reveal your direction! Can you withstand the thought of all you disrespected descending upon you? One good turn deserves another and you are about to be turned out! Can you stomach the idea of being subjected to the same cruelty you treated others with? Karmas a bitch and we are her messengers! Can you explain to our Father to HIS satisfaction what makes you more important than Water? Water is Life, YOU are DEATH, our Father is the Judge, Jury and if need be, the Executioner! Can you handle the concept that Death is NOT just a physical thing? YOUR Death will include Dishonor, Distrust and Banishment from the minds of your former peers! Can you deal with the fact that you are writing your own story and plotting your own demise? THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING and we simply can NOT wait for you to tear out your own last page! We will go on without you just fine because we don't need your dirty, bloody money! We will go on without you because Life wants to live and it can't do that if Death is running rampant! We will go on because as long as we have Spiritual Connections and Father in our Hearts we will never want for anything! We will go on just fine because so long as we have Earth, Air, Fire and Water, we have it all!" ZI ANA KANPA! ZI KIA KANPA! MAY THE DEAD RISE AND SMELL THE INCENSE! Etiamsi MULTA Et Nos UNUM Sumus Nos Sto Validus Ut Nos Sto Una! Semper Veritas, Semper Fideles, In Diabolus Nomen Nos Fides! AVE SATANÍ! (We Are ONE Even Though We Are MANY And We Stand STRONGEST When We Stand TOGETHER! Always TRUTHFUL, Always FAITHFUL, In Satan's Name We Trust! HAIL SATAN!) Ave URURU! Ave EA! Ave DIMUZI! Ave ININNI! Ave GILGAMESH! Ave ENKIDU! Ave TIAMAT! Ave ABSU! Ave MARDUK! Ave SARPANITUM! Ave SATANÍ! HAIL SATAN! HPS Meg "Nemesis Nexus" Prentiss