Zachary Steele's Blog, page 9
April 7, 2012
Passages
Reblogged from Who is the Storyteller?:
July 31st, 1956
I keep reminding myself that they were mine to begin with. I didn't steal them. The Sister took them from me. They were mine.
She's not happy about it. Convinced of my part in the disappearance of my stories and drawings–those she kept under safe guard in a locked closet in her room–the Sister has taken to wild rants about the evil that possesses me and dolled out even harsher penalties than she's ever handed down before.
The story of the young J.C. Rudolph continues to evolve as he moves one step closer to discovering the truth of his dreams, and the world of his creation.
March 29, 2012
An eagle, a fox and a cat were hangin' out on a porch...
Reblogged from Under An Outlaw Moon:
This is pretty amazing.
Very wickedly cool video. I want to go to there.
March 28, 2012
Unleashed
Reblogged from Who is the Storyteller?:
July 25th, 1956
I now believe that these dreams–as I have been prone to call them–are not dreams at all. Or, at the least, they are images from another place, reaching out through my dreams. I have given reflection to their purpose for the past two days, following the third such dream over a four-day span. It's an absurd thought and there is little chance I will ever mention it beyond these pages.
Continuing through the journal of J.C. Rudolph, the man who would one day become the Storyteller. This is the 3rd of a sequence of dreams, and for the first time, we're left with the possibility that Rudolph's world of fantasy might not only be real, it might very well be alive.
March 23, 2012
A Glimpse of the Divine
A little more than seven years ago I created a world. It happened without a bang, came without a word, and anchored itself into my mind with nary a concern for what it would do to my life. A forest evolved from darkness, mountains rose into view, the starry sky embraced a full moon that blanketed the lush terrain in a bath of iridescent light. I flew above it, gliding effortlessly, chilled slightly by the cool embrace of the night. Euphoria, giddiness, a certain boyish delight: they tempted me with recognition. I knew this place, though I had never before seen it.
The flight carried me beyond the forest, skimming the surface of a swiftly moving river, where I spread my fingers and trailed them through the water, gazing gleefully at the wake left as I zoomed forward. The forest returned beyond the approaching bank and I lifted once more toward the heavens. Though the sky invited me wholly, I chose instead to zag along the treetops, cutting in between gaps in the branches. I watched the forest floor, spotting life rustling below, my path all but forgotten, my trust in the guiding force complete and unwavering. I knew my destination. I knew what I would find.
When the forest thinned, the trees parting like open palms, the lush green turf broadened, expanded, and welcomed me into an open field. In the center of that field sat a solitary white crypt, tendrils of ivy coating one side of the gleaming marble surface, a faded iron door sealing the interior. I stood before the crypt, the weight of the moment abolishing my fears. I had journeyed to be here. Something magical awaited me. As if answering my call, the door opened, echoing through the field as metal ground against metal, as the hinges issued a squeal of protest.
The light from within overwhelmed my vision, yet filled me with warmth. It invited me forward. And so I walked, stepping into the light and through the doorway. My feet, which only now I realized were bare, waded across the sandy floor. I paused, the certainty that what I saw, what lay before me, held the answer to my quest, the essence of my journey. Risen upon a slab, I gazed upon the white tomb with a sense of awe and wonderment, lost in the artistic swirls along the pristine surface, mesmerized by the depth of life I sensed despite the reminder of death it endowed. Only then did I notice the angle of the lid and the revealing glimpse it offered to the interior of the tomb. I wanted to know. I had to see.
I stepped onto the concrete slab, my eyes meeting the length of the tomb, then the smooth edge at the lip. Hesitantly, I forced myself over the edge, my heart racing, and peered within and saw nothing.
That would have been about the time the music slowed, the cadence of the choir drifting to an easy completion. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I may have continued that stare for close to an hour, watching the images wash over me in a continuous loop. When I finally roused myself enough to gather my thoughts, I detailed the scene in a notebook. It would be the first account, in the first of many notebooks, regarding a world called Elysium. A world inhabited, created, and saved by a character known only as The Storyteller. Only recently did I compile the five notebooks of story into a massive file. By then I had already written Book One in The Storyteller series: The Heart of Darkness.
A five-book young adult series–drawn from five notebooks full of research, character bios, locations, magical items, magical creatures, political landscapes, actual landscapes, and so much more. All drawn from countless hours of daydreaming. Daydreams drawn from a single flight above a single forest toward a single destination. A single flight drawn from one piece of music.
One song created a world.
It still haunts me. Granted, I want it to. Give it a listen. Fly a while. You'll never be the same.
Mysterium
by Libera
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February 22, 2012
The Storyteller Blog
I've started a blog to chronicle both the journey of The Storyteller and to present the various writings of J.C Rudolph. It should be enlightening, entertaining, and some other word that begins with 'e' that I don't much want to figure out.
Check it out!
http://whoisthestoryteller.wordpress....
February 10, 2012
The Christ Corporation Series
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January 23, 2012
Um, er… oh.
I just don't want to sleep on a soft sheet.
Any way they could have named this something else?
January 20, 2012
The Storyteller: The Heart of Darkness–First Chapter Preview
There's still some road left to walk in getting The Storyteller: The Heart of Darkness into your hands, but in the meantime I thought I would offer a glimpse into the project. It's a story I've been developing/writing for more than seven years and I have a mountain of notes to prove it. All told, it will be five books in length, with the adventure and mystery deepening and darkening as you journey forward with our protagonist, Oliver Miles. It isn't simply a story, though. It's not just a collection of words on a page, guiding you forward. As The Storyteller himself will tell you, this story is alive. And it's been waiting for you.
Here's the briefest of brief rundowns of what awaits you:
Sixteen-year-old Oliver Miles is not just a fan of The Damon Grell Chronicles, he is also about to become the last hero of the world in which the series of books takes place. Drawn into Elysium, Oliver must navigate through a world both familiar and unfamiliar—where magic is hidden in books, where life is born one word at a time, where the secret of his birth and the path to his future rest in a powerful darkness that threatens the world, and where he must find the answer to the one question that might save them all: Who is the Storyteller?
The Storyteller is watching you...
This links to a Word document, so if you don't have that, it won't download.
Click here to read the first chapter.
January 9, 2012
What To Do When Your Face Looks Like a Foot
As I posted nearly a couple weeks ago, I'm a glutton for punishment. Just for the sheer entertainment of it, I watch the Kardashians (all the shows!), Gossip Girl, however minutes of 90210 I can handle, MTV Road Rules, Britney Spears videos, and bad movies like Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter or MegaShark vs. Giant Octopus. I don't do this because I undervalue quality programming, or because I feel there's nothing better to do with my time. I do it because these shows and movies are devised by and filled with idiots. Idiocy is fun to watch. Surviving idiocy is a challenge. Before you challenge that, allow me to rest the blame on the retail world. I spent too many years serving idiots and now I have no recourse but to find it elsewhere in my life, lest I get another retail job simply to feed the need. I'm programmed this way by too many pointless and stupid questions by far too many dense and corrupted minds to ever be saved.
Hence this whole "make me watch something I'll despise and live blog it" thing I'm starting today. Listen, much like sitting down to an episode of Gossip Girl, I'm not looking forward to being exposed to Sex & the City–certainly not for 6 straight hours. Even in watching one hour of any of the programs listed above, I do so yelling at it, calling out the characters and weak writing, and rolling my eyes every 5 minutes. But I value entertainment, and if I can entertain people whilst suffering through shows I, at my core, cannot stand, then it's not truly for nothing. It's my version of falling on the sword on your behalf.
Granted, it isn't as if Sex & the City is a show that most people hate. But it's a starting point. And no matter the confidence shown by some of you that I, too, will like this show, I'm not hopeful. Maybe in small doses, but not a whole season of it at once. That's an overdose of idiocy. I'll be cranky by the time it's over. And yet, I leave the call open for more. Name something that I can watch for, let's say, up to 12 hours straight that would be on par with the above. It can be a show, a series of videos, a collection of movies, you name it and I'll do it. And I'll live blog the event. This is your chance to annoy me. Make it count. The only caveat–naturally–is that it's something I have to be able to get my hands on in order to watch.
So, today at 4. It begins. I hope to utilize the live blog function for live events as well. The Oscars, for example. Or the Super Bowl, so that we can pick apart the new commercials and Madonna's attempt at a halftime show. What other live shows/events should I do?
I wanted to post a video from Family Guy, referencing Sarah Jessica Parker's face looking like a foot, but I couldn't find it and I need more coffee. Hopefully, I'll find it in time to include it today's live blog. In the meantime, an dead friend of mine–a hacker, obviously–has resurrected his Twitter account. He claims he's going to use it to tell people the truth about life, but from what I can gather, he just wants to annoy people. One of his opening salvos was this one about Tim Tebow. After that, he went on a mini-rampage about Christianity, then disappeared. Hopefully he comes back, whoever he is.
Jesus is no Broncos fan
January 7, 2012
Sex & the City, Season One–The Epic Marathon
Come back and join me on Monday, January 9th, beginning at 4 pm, as I live blog my way through the first season of Sex & the City.
Enter the live blog below:
Click Here
