Songs in the key of bluegrass apocalypse. Because hey, I have a thing for scary Americana.


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Some time ago, I promised barefoottomboy a mix of soothing instrumentals for those times when you feel lost, or unable to think clearly, or simply need to study. I tried to select songs that are both comforting (nothing that sounds too sad, I hope, and nothing ragged-edged or very dark) and interesting, the kinds of songs that tell little wordless stories in ( Read more... )

November: grey and brown and cobalt; goose-calls and rain and tiny bright snowflakes; black trees and still-warm winds and the rustle of leaves underfoot. My usual autumn mix was slow in coming together, and thus it transformed into a quieter, candlelight-and-grey-days mixtape, songs for the colder weather and shorter days, stretching slowly ( Read more... )

Late summer -- fiery, brooding, and heavy with anticipation. Summer thunderstorms are some of my favourite weather: weird, fey, dark weather, in which anything could happen, and the world is alive. This is a mix for dark skies and high winds and heavy hot air cut apart by rain: and then, the aftermath. (It is also full of cellos: as if I needed an ( Read more... )

For my sister, who just turned three -- beautiful, strange songs that will hopefully give her dreams of becoming a dragon-slaying adventuress when she grows up. These songs are not in any especial narrative order -- some are about adventure, others are there to paint the world ( Read more... )

It's NaNoWriMo season! Which means... mixtapes. Lots and lots of mixtapes. Chocolate, coffee, and mixtapes are what got me through NaNo last year. This one would be, I suppose, the third in a now-trilogy of Mixes For My Novel, along with That Light and Absolution. Good heavens ( Read more... )

September, October, November -- sharp and alive with slanting sunlight, brisk strange winds, low golden moons, riots of colour on the hillsides. There are goblins among the trees, and even in the city, the old magic is lifting its head. These are songs for harvest moons, for abandoned orchards in the late afternoon, for old saltworn houses on the ( Read more... )

For those days when you just need to dance and clap your hands and twirl, seventeen quirky, catchy love songs, many vintage-inspired. Sunshiny songs, full of whistling, handclaps, harmonies. Turn on the sun. Spread your arms. Sing.

( you're a map of a place maybe someday i'll go. )

So I'm writing this story. It's 1912. There's a girl. She's a librarian. She slays vampires. I was pretty sure that was what the story was about. Until, of course, I actually started writing it. The girl's still telling the story, but the centre, the catalyst, has changed. In a lot of ways, the story is really about Rupert Caruthers, former teenage ( Read more... )

He flickers on the outskirts of Time and it blows him into branches; here, he can be warped or whole, loved or lonely, burning or blooming. A thousand possibilities for Dean Priest; a thousand different lives.

This one's for wanderlight: two years' worth of promised birthday present, yes indeed. (Uh, Rita's birthday? Was in April. *facepalm*) And I have been ( Read more... )