Cynthia A. Morgan's Blog, page 20

Gairynzvl- The Dark One- #Meet the #Character

After years of waiting and creating more possibles than I can count I finally was able to create a character that more closely resembles the Dark One I see in my mind’s eye when I think about Gairynzvl.  Meet my main character from the Dark Fey Trilogy!

He dwarfed her diminutive stature by at least fourteen inches and had a lithe, powerfully muscular physique.  His shoulder length hair was the color of shimmering ice, both white and silver.  He wore a full-length coat with burnished gold lacings and buttons, with armor-like plates embellishing his broad shoulders and with dark crimson and vibrant silver silk accentuating the deep lapels of the coat he wore open across his broad chest.  The multiple belts and chokers crisscrossing his close fitted vest, his pants and boots; all were black leather with similar burnished gold fittings and, although she never would have imagined a Dark One dressing so strikingly, he wore a double flounced cravat and golden choker with an enormous ruby glimmering from its heart.

His vast dragon-like pinions were deep black and blood-red, stretching fully twice his height in length, yet with vicious spines at each joint and tip they seemed even larger and were hideously frightful to behold.  His complexion was the unmistakable sallow pallor of the Reviled.

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A Snippet from Chapter Six of The Reviled, where Gairynzvl reveals himself to Ayla for the first time:

Panting with exhaustion, he moved toward the darkness, half carrying Ayla, half dragging her as his strength was not much greater than her own.  She stumbled along beside him, crying, though no longer screaming in pain, and for that, he found he was inexplicably thankful.  When the light of the mirror could no longer reach him in any fashion and he was, once again, cloaked in cool, soothing shadow, he stopped, lowered her carefully to the floor and stood over her, his head tilted upward, his eyes closed and mouth open as he breathed in the darkness deeply.  His mind spun with echoes of writhing pain; his flesh burned with the memory of flame; his heart hammered in his chest and his entire body trembled with uncontrollable fatigue.

Gazing up at him in the darkness, Ayla considered him carefully, amazed beyond description.  He stood over her, but did not threaten or intimidate her; he merely stood, almost vigilantly.  Was he protecting her in the darkness?  She looked more closely at him, now that he was no longer bathed in searing light nor submersed in shadows that he had drawn to himself, and she was amazed that she did not see the Dark One she had seen when she first looked upon him, when her fear had given her eyes the freedom of creating a demon.  In fact, as he stood over her, breathing unsteadily, visibly trembling and with the water of tears still wet upon his face, she realized she had woefully misjudged him.

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Discover More About Dark Fey

~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Artwork by Me

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An #Easter #Prayer

Sweet Heavenly Father,
Holy Lord,
Almighty and Ever Living God,
Creator of our Every Breath,
and
Author of our Every Thought,
We Give Thanks to You with Joyful and Amazed Hearts
On this Most Special Day,
With Family and Friends by our sides
And
Remembered with Great Love,
We Praise You for the Miracle of the Resurrection,
For the Unfathomable Measure of Love
Shared with All of us
Through the Life of Jesus our Saviour,
Through His Passion and Death,
And
Through His Glorious Victory,
Blessings we can never fully Comprehend or Deserve,
Yet which we Receive Today On this Bright Easter,
With All the Love our Hearts, Minds and Spirits
Can Offer.
AMEN

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by: americanpsycho at deviantart.com

The Bridge – #Fantasy #Poetry

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In the Silence the Portal waits

A crossing most Enchanting,

Moving all who find its Magic,

Mysteriously supplanting.

The Bridge resides in barren blues,

It Sees, It Lives, It Breaths;

Hidden in the Silent realm

Beneath the forest’s eaves.

 

In the Hush the crossing Lingers

A fragment of sweet Yesterday;

Entrance into lands unknown,

A long-forgotten byway.

The bridge exists in the in-between,

Beyond the grasp of mortal ken,

Waiting for the Long-Lost Souls

To Remember When!

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Art and Poetry by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery

The Glimmering- #Fantasy #Poetry

 

There the Glimmering Weaves,

With Indigo Drops of Light,

Phantoms are born in the Guise of Dreams.

Whispers Sung in Lyric Harmony,

As the Forest in Enchantment Sighs,

Ancient Magic Glimmers into the Shadows,

Brightening,

Illuminating,

Smiling.

 

Art and Poetry by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery

BooknVolume Honored in #Top20 #FlashFiction Blogs Today!

I was surprised and delighted to learn today that the Flash Fiction on my blog been listed on Feed Spot as #19 in the top 80 Flash Fiction Blogs on the internet today (out of 250K blogs currently listed on their site)Needless to say, I’m more than thrilled.  This is a Very Awesome start to 2024!What is Feedspot?  Its a fairly new website allowing you to consolidate your favorite websites, blogs, podcasts, news sources, YouTube channels, and RSS feeds into one convenient location. Instead of visiting each site individually, you can access all your preferred content from a single dashboard.I want to thank Anju and the Feedspot team for this wonderful honor and for inspiring me to write more flash fiction!! Here’s a taste of my flash fictionThanks for celebrating with me ~Morgan~

Our Place in the Universe – A Look at the Difference between #Karma, #Fate and #Purpose

A friend of mine and I started talking recently about the difference between Karma and Fate, which really made me sit back and think.  We each have our own opinions and who really knows what the TRUTH is, or if there is TRUTH, but this is what I believe….In my humble opinion, Karma is what comes back to you as a result or consequence of your actions.  Rather like Newton’s Third Law- For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.   In this age of ‘no consequences’ we don’t like to think about Karma, but I believe it exists….even if it takes years to come back around to you.Fate, on the other hand, (again, IMhO) is something that happens that was ‘meant to be’.  For example, I was born to be creative.  I’ve been imagining and making up stories and pictures since I was old enough to babble (lol some things never change!) and hold a crayon.  Some people are born leaders (like Martin Luther King) and it’s their fate….or their destiny…to fulfill that purpose.  I believe each life does have a purpose.   Each soul when it takes on corporeal form has a purpose to enact, a lesson to learn or teach, or a providence to share.  It’s why we exist.I believe each one of us, human or animal, have a soul or essence that makes us unique and who we are.  I believe this essence starts elsewhere…the universe we’ll say… and, before it takes physical form here on Earth, it agrees to a purpose/destiny/fate that it will strive to achieve.  A reason for existence, as it were.Now, it may succeed, it may partially succeed, or it could not succeed at all and will, in time, try again (Thus, reincarnation), because LIFE happens.  Life itself is random. It has to be because it’s a jumble of everyone’s choices and the consequences of those choices.  So sometimes the purpose for our life becomes shrouded or we simply don’t have the means to fulfill it, but that doesn’t mean the purpose isn’t there.  And, regardless of fulfilling that reason for existence, we can always learn, grown, and (most importantly) make a difference in the lives of those around us.If we are a young spirit/soul, we may choose a fairly simple, straightforward purpose. Something like being an artist and touching other lives through the inspiration of our art/words/music, etc.  If we’re an older spirit, we may choose a more difficult path, but one that is even more inspiring to others and may have an even more significant impact.  Such as Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, Ghandi, or Nelson Mandela.  OR if we’re an experienced spirit, we may choose a truly difficult path.  We may come to earth with a handicap; we may be abused/neglected/exploited; we may be murdered or have some other horrible thing happen to us, BUT our life may be truly inspiring. (For inspiration, look up Marshall Stewart Ball)So maybe I’m confusing the word destiny/fate with purpose, but the way I look at it, it’s one in the same thing.  We can choose to go down a different path, but we cannot elude our purpose, the reason for our existence.  It will always be there.  Whether or not we fulfill that purpose is a completely other story.I’d love to hear what you think.  What do you believe is the difference between Karma, Fate, and Purpose?Art and Thoughts by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery

One Gift – A #Writer’s Perspective on #Writing

 

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, I dreamed of writing. Writing for whoever might hear, whoever might care, or, for myself and the sheer enjoyment, nay, the absolute bliss of filling a page with words spilling from my mind like a torrent. (a torrent of what, we shall not debate!) Words have always been there, at the forefront of my every thought, waking or sleeping, dreaming or working. How many times I’ve been caught narrating what I’m doing by a quizzical onlooker I dare not admit (usually a family member, thank goodness, but not always). It’s rather like an obsession I cannot escape or break free of, and like an obsession, I do not care to break free, really.

I distinctly remember sitting in my fifth grade classroom, creating stories in my mind and scribbling them down for all I was worth rather than going out for recess (even when a rousing game of 4 square or kickball beckoned). How could I explain to other ten year olds that I would much rather immerse myself in the mystical places my imagination could take me to, would take me to, rather than run around in the dirt or swing from the playground monkey bars (which I never could reach anyway, being so diminutively statured).

OK, maybe that is just proof that I’m a little left of center. (You might enthusiastically agree) The di-lithium crystals aren’t reaching full efficiency, Captain. I’m one clue short of a revelation, Sherlock. OR it may indicate that I was destined to unravel the complexities of life and love in lyrical, narrative fashion. Who can tell (although more than likely it’s a bit of both, really). One thing is clear, though; I shall never escape the compelling temptation that is writing. I’m addicted, mind, body, soul.

Good thing, though, since it would seem this compulsion is my one true gift. (Yes, I do believe we all have at least one, some of us have more than one, though proving how quickly a bottle of Absolute can be absolutely obliterated or diving from train trusses with a spongy rope attached to the feet are not illustrations of a gift by any means) Where was I?

Good thing, yes, because I have found that once you allow yourself to become completely wound up in your True Gift the satisfaction and sense of accomplishment you achieve supersedes anything and everything else. Of course, the trick is figuring out what your One True Gift is, which isn’t as simple as it seems. I should have known I was a writer, since words have been tumbling from my mind and spirit since I was old enough to speak. I spent a summer composing a collection of 100 poems, just as a challenge to myself and I’ve been writing one thing or another since I could hold a pencil (or crayon) (or lipstick). So why did it take me this long to sit down and take it seriously and to finally realize the ultimate joy in utilizing that one talent given to me alone (so to speak, since it was certainly given to you as well or we wouldn’t be here, but do humour me, as I’m making a point here) (I think/hope).

We walk along the path of life, meandering through the shaggy undergrowth and stopping often to investigate the curious or spectacular. We stumble over debris scattered in the avenue and sometimes we fall, tumble, and roll.  When we struggle to our feet, the right way to go isn’t always clear. We point ourselves in a direction and trudge on. Often, we need to double back, realizing we’ve chosen the wrong direction. The going can be difficult, uphill, over large stones and through loose gravel that slips underfoot; yet the light of that one gift is always shining down on us, streaming through the lush canopy of green swaying in the wind over our heads. Unfortunately, we usually come to a place where we can go no farther unaided and we must make a deliberate choice. Turn around and stumble back the way we came, making no further progress and never reaching our goal(s) or reach for the walking stick waiting at our feet; accept the hand that is offered to help us continue on; allow ourselves to be carried through the brambles so we don’t fall or bleed anymore.

This isn’t a cop out. Nor is it taking the easy way out or cheating. After all, very few hikers hike without any sort of hiking gear.  Mountain climbers don’t climb without their gear (even the right shoes, if nothing else.) Painters cannot paint without paint and runners don’t run in bare feet….well, not many anyway.  Taking hold of the ‘walking stick’ is just the beginning. The start of a whole new journey as another path to walk along opens before us.  Making the bold decision to pursue your dream leads you along new avenues, though you’re no longer alone or going unaided.  When we walk this road, the road we are meant to walk, and we’re geared up with the right equipment waiting within us to be utilized, we will invariably discover our purpose. A purpose that will fill us (oddly enough) with Purpose. A destiny that will lead us to our Destiny; and a gift, One True Gift, that will give us the greatest Gift of all.

Purpose and a Destiny.

Art and Poetry by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery

Be Very Careful Who You Marry – A #Book About #Love, #Sex, and Pina Coladas

My very good friend, Chad Slabach has written a new book.  I’ve known Chad for over twenty years and worked with him when I managed The Wall music store many many eons ago.  If you are a long time follower of my blog, he was also the inspiration for The Burning Question series.  He is the leader of a non-denominational faith community based in south-central PA as well an as avid music fan and writer.  You can find Chad on his WordPress Blog The Bridge Faith Community. 

Chad writes:

I wrote a book called Be Very Careful Who You Marry, released just before the Christmas of 2023. It is my second book. The first, called Chronicles, Nehemiah, and Other Books Nobody Reads, is a collection of many different subjects and ideas. Be Very Careful is just one: marriage – in theory and in practice. This isn’t to say it’s only for married people, any more than Marvel movies are only for superheroes or Britpop is only for the English.

As I write on the back cover, “…but it’s not only a marriage book. It’s about Jesus, the Angel, spirituality, sex, money, words, Mr & Mrs Rupert Holmes and their affinity for pina coladas, but mostly, it’s about you and me and what we choose to build.”

The image on the cover (and this post) is of 2 tiny metal figures that the Angel & I bought on our honeymoon in Aruba. Their arms are in position to embrace each other, but we didn’t always feel like embracing each other, and in those cases, we’d separate them. So many marriage relationships are victims of silent erosion, beaten down by the unrealistic expectations of “how it’s supposed to be.” We are sold a faulty premise that, when we say “I do,” we will always feeeeeeel in love, hearts in our eyes and tingly butterflies in our bellies, forever and ever. And if we don’t, even for a moment, we figure we are broken, we made a terrible decision, and there are only 2 options from here: divorce, or a life of abject misery. What we’d quickly find, if we’d only give this fear a voice, is that sometimes the figures aren’t holding each other. They are driving each other crazy, far apart on the TV stand. Nothing is broken, we haven’t “fallen out of love,” we’re simply, wonderfully married. There are times of brilliant, sweet, wonderful roses and there are times of old, dead, dried petals. The question is, what do we do then?

That’s what the book is about. What we do then is keep having dinner together, listening, talking, holding hands, having sex, opening the door for each other, and doing the dishes. We keep loving each other, even when we don’t necessarily feel like it. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. Love never fails. (I read that somewhere.) We won’t always feel hope, but that’s not what it says at all. We hope anyway.

In a marriage, we become Always and Even If people.

The exhilarating dance of creation is complicated. What makes me think I have anything new to say about marriage or relationships? What makes me think anyone will want to read anything I write (or think or say) anyway? Is it unbridled arrogance? Where do these mean, nasty voices in our heads come from when we are inspired to build? The truth is that maybe I don’t have anything new to say, maybe no one will want to read it, maybe it is arrogance. But that’s not the point at all, is it? We are creative beings, made in the image of a wildly creative God, and we have been called to offer ourselves and our hearts to each other. So, yes, maybe nobody will care. OR maybe one person will read it at precisely the right time, they’ll lean into their spouse (instead of away from), re-commit to each other, and this new connection will bless their children and neighbors and you and me and everybody everywhere. That’s how the world changes. Of course, I’m dreaming. But anything/everything significant begins as unrestrained imagination. All dreams start as an impossibility.

Maybe a billion people will read this book. Or maybe just the Angel and my mom. I want you, and I want all of your friends, to read it. I want you to love it, too. Not to make me the next big thing, but so that you can love your wives and husbands, and be loved by your wives and husbands. We were given this amazing gift of marriage, a person with whom to truly share our every part of our lives (what could be more lovely??), and I’m not convinced we’ve even scratched the surface of it’s depth and beauty.

You can get it from me (I have enough copies and can get more, just come to my home, message me, or come to the Bridge on Sunday morning). Or you can go to the Books, Etc page on my blog, lovewithacapitall.com, where you can click a link that will take you to a store to buy it and get it shipped to your home.

Chuck Palahniuk writes, in his novel Choke, “It’s creepy, but here we are, the Pilgrims, the crackpots of our time, trying to establish our own alternate reality. To build a world out of rocks and chaos… Where we’re standing right now, in the ruins in the dark, what we build could be anything.”

What we build could be anything, we just need to start.

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I’ve started reading Chad’s book and, although I’m a dreadfully slow reader, I’m truly enjoying his unique writing style and fresh insights into relationships, whether those are marriages, friendships, or coworkers and I hope you’ll pick up a copy of this marvelous new book for yourselves

~Morgan~

Surfeit – #Poetry of the #NaturalWorld

 

.Art and Poetry by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery

It Is Not – #Poetry About #Negativity

 

It is Not,
It does Not,
Calamity upon the sleeve;
Creeping like the Dark of Night
Into the Heart
To lurk and cleave.

It has Never,
It will Never,
Trespass set into motion;
Crushing the Majestic Billowing Wave
Of the deepest,
Bravest Ocean.

Impossible,
Improbable,
Wreaking Havoc on their course;
Vile demons smashing Heaven,
Hand in Hand
With Force.

Negativity,
Like Poison,
Caustic as Infection;
Cheats the Heart of all that Shimmers,
And Gathers unto it
Rejection.

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~Morgan~.Art and Poetry by ~MorganVisit my DeviantArt Gallery