Regarding BookishGeek.
I take up my pen to write, not of myself or of Bram, but about another soul who dreams and who expresses those dreams in words of strength, fire, fancy, and occasional self-doubt. The latter is a curse from which many suffer; the former traits are enviable and rare.
This soul calls herself bookishgeek amongst friends and colleagues alike. Her bibliophilia draws me into her orbit, as like will always pull towards like. She writes alone and with others, in worlds created by herself and by others, and renders those worlds into goodly havens.
The language she uses in her tales of daily life is refreshingly modern, and completely and thoroughly in keeping with the spirit of the New Woman which I so admire; a breath of fresh air which I would adore to see interjected into the occasionally fusty drawing rooms of my own circle.
The "geek" part of her self-chosen name is also apparent; she has much of the joie de vivre of the carnival lifestyle in her spirit.
I await more of her words with great pleasure.
This soul calls herself bookishgeek amongst friends and colleagues alike. Her bibliophilia draws me into her orbit, as like will always pull towards like. She writes alone and with others, in worlds created by herself and by others, and renders those worlds into goodly havens.
The language she uses in her tales of daily life is refreshingly modern, and completely and thoroughly in keeping with the spirit of the New Woman which I so admire; a breath of fresh air which I would adore to see interjected into the occasionally fusty drawing rooms of my own circle.
The "geek" part of her self-chosen name is also apparent; she has much of the joie de vivre of the carnival lifestyle in her spirit.
I await more of her words with great pleasure.