June 18, 2009


Posted in Uncategorized tagged at 5:58 pm by vrtrakowski

Meme, snabbled from [info]trialia:

We all love looking at people’s icons, but don’t always *get* them– wondering stuff like, “Who’s that guy?” or “Where’s that quote from?” but tend not to ask, for various reasons.

Mine are here.  I think I can explain them all…


May 20, 2009


Posted in Uncategorized tagged , at 8:23 pm by vrtrakowski

Just because it amuses me.


March 7, 2009


Posted in Uncategorized tagged at 12:42 pm by vrtrakowski

Seen this around a few places, so why not.

Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations, no more than one sentence. I’m not going to do ALL mine, certainly.  Though it’d be interesting to do a look at the graveyard, so to speak.

I did alter a couple slightly to remove names.

“The Queen of Spices,” he breathed, holding her gaze; “I surrender.”

She paused at a light, waiting to  cross the street, and on impulse extended her senses, feeling around her in the odd fashion she had possessed since childhood.

She watched, still bemused by the family her brother had managed to create, or gather, or just fall into–she wasn’t sure which.

He wondered just when French fries had gone out of style, and why.

“It was the oddest thing; you should have seen everyone’s faces when the knock on the door turned out to be a troll.”

But the vision was a tempting one; feeling him slide into the leaves behind her and press up against her back, his warmth soaking into her spine and his arm sliding over her hip.

Her throat seemed to be swollen shut, damming all her words in her chest, so she threw her arms around him, desperate.

He’d passed fifty without a qualm; it had hardly been a blip on his radar, as no one was left to send him a card and his colleagues all knew better than to throw him a party.

February 2, 2009


Posted in Uncategorized tagged at 11:17 pm by vrtrakowski

Seen around somewhere.  I’m not sure I have an absolute favorite per se, but I’m quite fond of this.

When you see this, post your favorite poem.

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed–see here it is–
I hold it towards you.

–John Keats

January 22, 2009


Posted in Uncategorized tagged , at 11:11 pm by vrtrakowski

Picked this one up somewhere, it intrigued me. Read the rest of this entry »