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Mistress Spring and Lady Autumn are trying to act as mediators between Master Summer and Lord Winter. Seeking someone to tip the scales in favor of peace, they bring Jack to the land between the seasons. However, in their brief absence, Lord Winter has acted, and stolen the Orb of Father Sky from the Summer temple, placing it atop the tallest tree in Summer's domain, which now burns with blue flames and never dies.
The off-season aspects (Rayne, August, and Lord Fall) meet Spring, Autumn and Jack to tell them what has happened. When Autumn storms off to confront Winter, she is turned into a statue of a gargoyle. The group heads straight for the Autumnal lands to find out what has happened to the Scepter of Mother Nature.
By the side of a lake they find a newly raised barn. Jack, catching a peek of the Scepter inside, rushes in to retrieve it. But as he crosses the nightingale floor, a gigantic horse clomps in and throws him into it's back before making a break for the deepest part of the lake.
While Lord Fall rescues Jack from the Kelpie, Rayne sneaks into the now empty barn and gets back the Scepter of Mother Nature. Lady Autumn is restored and she calls a living gargoyle to stand guard over the Autumnal temple where the puts the Scepter in it's rightful place.
They set off for Spring's domain to try and protect the Crown of Grandmother Moon before Lord Winter can get to it. During this journey, Rayne and August give Jack two gifts. The Helmet of Spring which grants the wearer invisibility for as long as they can bear to wear it, and the Coat of Summer, which will protect the wearer from fire for brief periods of time.
As the group reaches the Spring temple they catch their first glimpse of Lord Winter since returning to the land between the seasons. However they cannot catch him before he calls a winged creature to bear him away. He's stolen the Crown of Grandmother Moon and Mistress Spring reverts into a statue of a Sphinx.
They search the Spring lands for a while and happen upon a newly created hill. The thing is steep and very high, but at the very crest there is a pedestal where the Crown of Grandmother Moon* is waiting. However, it's more sinister than it seems because when Lord Fall, Lady Autumn and August try to climb it the three are each whisked away by the same winged creature that took Lord Winter--A giant barn owl.
When Rayne refuses to try, Jack puts on the Helmet of Spring and climbs up the hill safely, but the helmet is so heavy that he throws it off when he gets the crown and he to is carried off. He's dropped in the middle of the Forests of winter where the others are. Some time after, Spring and Rayne find them and they move to the Summer lands.
When faced with the burning tree which is the prison for the Orb of Father Sky under which stands a carved marble Phoenix, the seasons, as well as the off-season aspects decide that it must be Jack who gets the Orb.
After a night's thought Jack climbs the tree in the Coat of Summer, though he is protected he has a hard time breathing and he starts to feel the heat from the flames through the coat. Undeterred he climbs until he reaches the Orb and climbs back down. By the time he is safe, the coat is in ruins, but Summer is restored.
Thanking him for all he's done, Summer and the other seasons go off to face Lord Winter together. Jack comes along and watches as the four seasons battle.
In the end though, Lord Winter, and his own off season aspect Lady Yule, are killed and the three other seasons evolve to take his place. A new Spring and off season aspect appear and the other's become something else.
Lady Yule, who was previously Lady Autumn, and August who was previously Mistress Spring take Jack back to his world and thank him for all he had done to keep their world in order.

Faithless Readers

The time has come,
the writer said,
to wax poetic more.

For haiku now,
and song quite new;
for writing we adore.

Yet on this note
may we all write
what shakes us to the core.

Bloggers come and
Bloggers go,
So few remain the same.

Traffic flow
and updates
'Thanks' for those who came.

Faithless readers
Listen up
I won't say this again.

Eye Rhyme
Slant rhyme
And rhyme true.

All enemies mine,
frustrate me
yet what can I do?

For you know,
faithless readers,
I write all this for you.

Days and weeks
And months hence
Hear from me no more.

I hope these
humble blogging post
shook you to the core.


What's been your biggest influence in making you a better writer?

What's influenced me?
Reading, writing, critiques, flames, flattery and sheer force of will.
That is to say that no ONE thing has helped me as a writer. It's a combination of influences. I read and I take in descriptions I like, phrases that make me think. I learn new words from books and end up falling in love with characters.
I write. If nothing else, I write. I write a lot. Just going by the age-old adage 'Practice make perfect' I should be making millions from my books by now. I'm not, but I am a much better writer than I was six years ago.
Critiques also help. That is to say, actual critiques. A good well balanced critique will show me what I'm already good and and kindly point out my faults. This gets me rolling on the right path, I think, to improvement.
Flames-yes, dreaded flames-have helped my writing more than I can ever now. While they hurt, they do show you your faults, though they do blow them out of proportion if I do say so myself. So to appease the flaming Gods I would work on those faults.
Flattery has a way of making me write more, I don't know about others. It's something that made me want to maintain the level at which I was writing.
The rest was all me. Doing what I had to to make myself like my work.

Sep. 3rd, 2007

Earlier... "Right now I'm at a happy medium, floating on cruse control and enjoying it while I can. It's odd, I hit a low yesterday but now I'm fine. The hole is filling with water slowly and I'm content to float along in it until I reach the high ground again. I like that image actually. Like Ascension only...wet? Odd I know."

Today: Read more...Collapse )

However this is all relative. I'm frustrated with life...again. The water's stopped filling my little hole and I'm stuck here now. Too tired to swim. Trying not to go under. Limbs feeling like lead, weak and tired. Maybe I do want to go under. I don't need air, I don't need life. Maybe I do want to drown here. But I know that's not real. Just a tired daydream. I fear. The devil whispering in my ear bidding me to do what's stupid. So I struggle in the water and wait. For more rain? For the sun? I wait. For salvation? No...I wait for change is all. Not any one change, just...change. I'm in limbo, so I do what I can and I wait.

Maybe that's my problem, I wait for change. I always say that waiting on the world to change is the wrong approach. Hello, my name is Pot. World--I mean Kettle, you're black. But there's that devil in my ear. The one that makes me cry at night. The one that held the razor I cut with. That devil is whispering about how I can't make a difference, how I can't make the change.

I'm only....What am I? I'm a girl. I'm a little girl who wants to be all grown up. But I still need nap times. I still need dolls and toys. I need myblankie and snack times. I want to get up early on Saturday mornings and watch Bugs Bunny in my Pjs . I don't want responsibilities. I'm just a little girl. Can I just pick and choose the adult things I can have and leave the rest to someone else?

No. I can't.

I think there is a checklist for adulthood. Lets see how I rank.
Job, check.
Debt, check.
Paying Rent, Check.
Caring for self, half check.
Meaningful relationship, nope.
Apartment/house, nope.
Bills, not really.
Car, no.
Licence, no.
Ability to write checks, check.
Ability to buy wants and needs, check.
Seems I'm not quite there.

But I'm not five anymore. I grew up so fast, and yet so slow. There are shining moments in my childhood that may as well have lasted years, but were only moments. Precious moments. Forgive me if I wax poetic.

Things like summers spent at the pool or the Easter egg hunts staged there every year. The year I scraped my knee so bad that it bled and bled and bled just so I could reach that egg stuck in the crook of two branches on a tree. Taking pride that my eggs yielded more candy that Kaylee and Rachel's Eggs combined.

Spending days playing with the neighborhood kids. Shrieking with glee as I played in a tree house. Putting Arthur to sleep in my arms by stroking his nose. Thunder storms and a feline's comforting gesture. Not backing down from a fight. Riding horses at summer camp. Swimming in the pool at the Y.

My first kiss. My first crush. My first love. First Communion, first confession. Dancing at a wedding. Beginning high school. Drama Class. Kissing Jake. Meeting Neesha. When did I grow up. Somewhere in the middle of all this.

When I wasn't looking I started turning into an adult. Which is good...every one grows up... I just...feel like I missed some stuff. A feeling I've never been able to shake, though my childhood was much more stable, even much more happy, than most. What is it I missed?

May. 23rd, 2007

Everyone tells me it's bullshit when I say he's too good for me. I'm told I'm just being agnsty. They don't know the demons in my head. They don't have to see him at wits end because I constantly push the limits waiting for them to break. I get to watch him and hear him take me back again and again. This is why I cry when he says he loves me. It's why I feel down every time a new guy turns my head. I feel like I'm single, but I know I'm taken.
Why can't I just admit that though I love him I can't do distance anymore.

I can't play this game.

Is there nothing we can do?

April 19, 1995 – Oklahoma City Bombing…I was a child, I was scared and I didn’t understand.

April 20, 1999 – Columbine…I do not remember where I was, what I was doing or how I heard. I remember people being scared, very scared and the sting of loss. I cannot remember substance, only vague impressions. There was a deep sadness that stayed there for a long time.

September 11, 2001 – The Twin Towers…I was sitting in Religion class, a bittersweet irony there, at St. Michaels Catholic School in Gastonia. The Principal came over the loud speaker and had a prayer for those in the World Trade Center, the class was confused. Our teacher had two students go to the library (The only place in school with a TV hooked up for actual television) and had us switch over to our science lessons. When they came back the rest of us were making a mad-dash for the library.

I watched the second tower fall. It was like something imploded inside me. I felt empty. Scared. Terrified and confused we sat and watched the news, the clip repeating over and over for the rest of the class period. And Our break between classes, and half of math class. The younger grades (Grade 4 and down) weren’t told and were are eventually put in the library with an educational video.

The world moved on. Classes, everything was a blur from there. Golf match was cancelled. Went home, curled up and leaned against my mother as we watched the news. Life was sad. Disparing. We felt we lacked hope.

April 16, 2007 – Virginia Tech…I hadn’t watched the news before work. I slept as long as I could. Everything was fine until I went up to pass out trays to patients. I heard whispers of it. School shooting. I shrugged it off, chalked it up to my imagination. I’d read an old article on Columbine a few days before.

Then it was in the kitchen with me. A maintenance worker named a number of victims. I asked where. “Virginia Tech”.

I froze. My first thought of my friend Thomas who went there. Then the few other’s I knew by face from SOLAR. My insides imploded again. Empty, scared. I couldn’t get out of work and I couldn’t check facts. As I delivered the trays for dinner I gleaned what I could from glaces at the TVs that stood in the waiting rooms when I passed by.
Three days until Thomas talked to me. I’d been going crazy the entire time. He and I had grown so far apart, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him dieing.


It seems like such a bad dream some times but this is so real there are so many nation and world changing events that have happened in our lives already. So many for us who are so young. The world is turning into the big scary monster from our fairy stories and it’s going to get to us all and all we can do is watch and wait. So much waiting.

You feel useless, you try your best but still you get swept up in the surprise and anger. You get carried away and soon you don’t know what to feel anymore.

A bomb threat at my former High School days after Virginia Tech. I cried.

Is there nothing we can do?

Yeah, it's true

We are in Seattle, we are opening the bar.
I'm terrified.
For more info read Pher's journal.
I really didn't think I did the creepy-anorexic thing all that well, but apparently I'm wrong.

Feb. 11th, 2007

I passed out at work today. It was no big deal, I’ve been doing that a lot lately, but not usually at work. My boss got upset though. She was all ‘are you okay, do you want to go to the Hospital? Are you hurt?’ and I really just shrugged it off. She asked me when the last time I ate was.
I said that I’d had lunch a little bit ago. A Lie. But I’m used to it now.
I’ve not lost much yet. Just enough so that my work pants aren’t too totally tight anymore. That’s good, by next paycheck I should be able to buy a size ten. That’s heaven compared to these humongous twelves I’m waddling around in. I’m such a cow.
And one meal every two days isn’t so bad, I mean. Last night I had dinner. A salad with fat free dressing on the side and a big glass of water. That’s good, right? I really couldn’t bring myself to actually eat the dressing though. I felt like such a pig. But the salad was good, I guess. It was kinda big, though, so I only ate half. I felt guilty—ya know?
Then tomorrow I’m gonna have lunch. Maybe a boiled chicken breast, with a little bit of salt. Nothing too heavy, I don’t want to GAIN anything. Then maybe breakfast the next time I eat. Something simple, like a banana. Fruits are good, right?
My boss is still freaking out a bit. She says I should take a few days off. Maybe I will. I could hit the gym all day and work on the treadmill and bikes. I’ve really been slacking off. I’m such a lardo, too lazy to do anything. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Hit the gym all day. I think I’ll put off that lunch a few more days.
I don’t need to eat.

My future husband will have his hands full

Dearest future hubby,

I'm insecure. I'm insecure, self-conscious, insane, and downright odd. I'm needy, I'm cuddly, I'm stubborn and I hate being wrong. I will argue with you to a point beyond reason. I will stay mad at you because I just want to be mad. I will whimper, whine, and sigh when you're mad at me. I will poke you, kiss you, tickle you, and give you back rubs on whatever whim takes me. I will be upset if you're not ticklish.

I'm cynical when it comes to love, but I'm also a hopeless romantic. I will seem cold at first; I guard my heart, I've given it away too freely in the past. I'm paranoid and it can sometimes be hard to gain my trust. I'll love you, though; more that I've ever loved before, I'll love you. I'm passionate; passionate in the bedroom, passionate about the people I love and passionate about writing, art, and acting.

I'm a writer and I will ask you some of the weirdest questions you'll ever hear. I don't think when I write, the only thing running across my mind is the letter that make up whatever word I'm typing in that moment. I can get to be very wordy. I love words, I like the flow of other languages but I'm not good a writing and/or reading them. I like to read. I could spend a fortune in Barns & Noble. One of my greatest aspirations in life to to be published and stocked on the shelves of Barns & Noble.

I have issues. I'm a former cutter. I'm prone to depression, prone to insomnia and prone to bite your head of if I'm in 'a mood'. I fish for compliments, I get upset over stupid things and I will push your buttons. I'm fickle; I'll say no to something one minute and then end up doing it the next.

I love animals. I want nothing more that to be surrounded by animals;big dogs, scruffy old cats, lizards, rats and snakes. I like fishing but i hate the thought of hunting; though, I do like venison, dear skins and antlers. Just don't make me kill the thing and I'm happy.

I don't believe in the greater good of the human race. I believe in faeries. I'm whimsical, I'm serious, and I'm never in one mood for long.

I can cook well enough but i hate doing dishes and cleaning up. I like period movies, role playing and wearing corsets. I randomly use different voices and/or accents. I'd sleep until noon if i could. I like to stay in my pajamas all day and I'd die if i didn't get my daily dose of caffeine. I hog the the computer, i hog the covers and hog the remote.

I can be bossy; I think other people my age, with very few exceptions, are stupid and immature. I think people other than me, with only a few more exceptions, are stupid and immature. I do not take well to people who are not as smart as I. I don't take well to people who cannot handle a little (or a lot) of silliness and/or craziness in their lives. I think kids today are growing up too fast. We don't realize until it is too late what a gem childhood was. I miss just being a kid.

I love children but the thought of actually being a parent scared me beyond reason. I like to play with little kids but a girl can only handle so much. I'd rather be the doting aunt. I love my family to death, I'd have to live close to them or at least talk to them on a regular (daily) basis. I love my friends, you better like them do because I will be inviting them over a lot. Friends are like a second family to me, a family of my choosing. Just as crazy as my own family, and with all the little quirks that makes them endearing, but these are people I choose to spend my time with.

I'm petrified of driving, I'm scared of spiders and bugs, but i can be found to play with bugs on occasion. I usually kill spiders or have someone kill them for me. The only spiders I let live are the ones sold in the pet stores (or peoples' pets) and the tiny ones that you can hardly tell are spiders.

I'm irrational, I'm irresponsible, I'm horrible with spelling and grammar. My mind skips between subjects with little notice. I rant, a lot. I'm a review whore, I'm an attention whore, but I like going unnoticed in certain places (school for example). I flirt. I flirt with many guys for many different reasons. Flirting is one of the few social skills I've perfected. I dress for attention, I dress for comfort, and I dress very outlandishly, always.

I have an army of guys at my disposal should you every try to hurt me. I'd never let you hurt me, but if you did I would return the favor only much worse. Like my mother always says ' I've got cast iron cookware and I know how to use it.'

I'm not perfect, I'm not quiet, I'm not sweet, and I'm not demure. I'm not glamorous though I will pretend to be on occasion. I'm not girly. I have a softer side; I cry, a lot, but I can be a cold hard bitch sometimes. I'm not high maintenance for the most part but I do have my moments.

I'm a tomboy, I like to play rough and tumble, I'd join a friendly game of tackle football (If the rules were clearly explained to me). I like playing no rules basket ball; I cannot shoot to save my life, but I'm good at catching rebounds though. I'm not a sporty girl, thought I do like watching some on TV. I like to watch Ice Skating, the Olympics, lumber jack tournaments and dance competitions. I like to watch TV, but there are a few shows I absolutely hate to miss; Medium, CSI, and a myriad of shows i liked that were unfortunately canceled.

No matter how often you tell me I'm pretty, beautiful, sexy or gorgeous, I still won't believe you. But I could always use that ego boost. Most likely, I will ask you many times why you are so good to me, and why you love me; because I'm insecure in love. I never get why it is that people like me. I don't like the way I look. I'm fat. I only see my faults; I have a weird nose, my hair already hosts grays even though I'm only eighteen. I rarely know what I want but I always know what I need.

I'm usually shy with people I don't know, or with large groups. I don't like being surrounded by people. I hate walking in crowds, the idea of people i don't know bumping into me makes me want to throw up. I can't breath easily when surrounded by people, yet I like being social.

I'm a paradox; a contradiction of terms. I'm an oxymoron in the flesh. I've always had a thing for the impossible. Since I was sixteen I've always said that my dream guy was a goth-emo-redneck-native American with long hair, a lean, muscular body and and Irish accent. If you meet him, let me know.

I like listening. I can lose myself in music, or in someones voice. I like tone and expressions. I like the inflection people use when talking about themselves and telling stories. I like talking too, I think a well-crafted lie can produce interesting results. I joke a lot, I'm sarcastic, and I never really know when to quit.

I think that I've come to the end of what has been a most interesting letter to write. I don't expect to have a reply to this. So until we meet, I'll remain the same as i ever was; a girl wistfully wishing for love.

Fondly your future wife,

Dominique Dzioba