Making Passion, Making Life – A Review of Scott McCloud’s The Sculptor

Scott McCloud's The Sculptor

Simply incredible.

Whenever a book moves me so thoroughly that it becomes an instant favourite the moment I close the back cover, I am compelled to sit down and write a review to sing its praises. With the Sculptor, I’d initially just sat here speechless, absorbing how remarkable of a read-in-a-single-sitting book it is. But now I know how to explain how positively it affected me. Continue reading

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The Last Tale Torn, Grandfathered In

People often hinge their writing duties on waiting for inspiration to click. I know I do. Really, it’s just another form of procrastination. Sometimes (most times) inspiration doesn’t hit until you have the first word down, that’s the real hurdle.

While it’s actually the second word in this poem, the first word that came to my mind was “crimson”. Weather, war, romance, regret — funny how they can all be connected so easily to that word.

Also, my fantasy mind got the better of me and I wrote “gnoll” instead of knoll. A shaved gnoll isn’t a bad image, though.

 

Bullets and a Rose

Bullets and a Rose

What crimson clouds careen across the shorned [knoll]
and spill their shades to transform the hue–
What dastardly mind could look on such a sight
and not see at least a foreign shape or two. Continue reading

Reflections on Escape, Hiding and Emergence : A Review of The Amazing Aventures of Kavalier & Clay


I’m always reluctant to say things like the following because in a matter of time it is entirely possible that my views will change as I continue to read more and more throughout my life, cherishing any number of novels I come across, but, for the time being: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay is tied with Les Misérables as the greatest novel I have ever read.

Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer Prize Winning novel is, since no other word is as wonderfully fitting, a masterpiece.  When I first heard of this book a couple years ago, it was after Continue reading

Morpheus

I am the daydream.
A mind slip-up of the daytime hour.
Bring me deeper—I will teach you to write of Midsummer Nights.
Dust pouch, a shattered ruby
(for I know dreams are worth more than rubies),
A sigil mask of power.
I do not trip over trembling void.
My possibilities exist only within yours.
What memories have you for me today?
My crown can serve all men of Continue reading