2 things to share...
1. AsCast : Narnia Fan Fiction Revolution's BRAND NEW PODCAST is now available! "Episode 1 - In Which Tumnus Milks Oreius," can be found right HERE! To save, right click and choose "Save Target As." The first episode features:
-Introduction to your hosts
-Discussion of chapters 1-6 from "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"
-An interview with TastyAsItGets, author of "The High King, the Duchess, and the Secret"
-Fan fiction recommendations
2. I started a new Edmund/OC story that I'm really excited about and I'd love some feedback. It's NOT a Mary-Sue.
Title: Like the Touch of Rain
Rating: PG13
Author: IrishSongBird
Prologue
Like the Touch of Rain
by IrishSongBird
Like the Touch of Rain
by Edward Thomas
Like the touch of rain she was
On a man's flesh and hair and eyes
When the joy of walking thus
Has taken him by surprise:
With the love of the storm he burns,
He sings, he laughs, well I know how,
But forgets when he returns
As I shall not forget her 'Go now'.
Those two words shut a door
Between me and the blessed rain
That was never shut before
and will not open again
Prologue
Calormen, the year 1014
Of all the ways she imagined dying, she never thought it would be like this: as a traitor to her country. There was no one in this hostile crowd of people that would save her, not even her own son. The man she loved escaped the prison of Tashbaan less than forty-eight hours earlier, along with any hope of her own survival and freedom. She had helped her only glimpse of happiness sail away in the dead of night on a ship bound for his own country to ensure his own survival. Now she could only hope he would get there safely.
Under the scorching sun of Tashbaan, she took a deep breath and gazed calmly into the faces of her enemies. She once considered them her countrymen, but there were few kindred spirits around her now. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found the round little face she was looking for, standing on a high balcony away from the dirty peasants below. She could see the fear in his eyes, though he stood tall and proud, the way his grandfather did beside him. He had a clear view of her, hands fastened behind her back as she knelt, awkwardly tied to the pole that stopped uncomfortably halfway up her back on the wooden platform in the middle of the city’s public commons. Her heart ached for him, even though he was the reason she was here in the first place. He shouldn't have to watch his own mother's brutal execution.
She knew in her heart that this wasn't his fault, and her only regret was that she wouldn't get to see him grow up or try to make him a more honorable man than he was sure to become without her. She would never see her daughter again, either, that small precious bundle she had to place in the arms of another woman when the baby was only five weeks old. At least there were finally no more secrets: at least the baby's father finally knew she existed, and would hopefully bring her to safety before any harm could come to her.
Her breath caught in her throat when the drums finally started their steady rhythm and the crowd parted to reveal the elaborately dressed executioner advancing toward her with his curved scimitar at the ready. There was nothing to be done now but face death with her head held high. Her decisions couldn't be undone, and if she had to go back and do it all again, she knew she probably wouldn't do anything differently. She would choose him every time.
The crowd was startlingly silent and she couldn't gauge whether they were enjoying the spectacle or repulsed by it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, conjuring his face in her mind. He always made her feel braver.
The drums stopped abruptly and her eyes snapped open as she was pierced by sudden fear. She heard the sound of the scimitar as it sliced through the still air and thought quickly, Aslan help me! And then she heard no more.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
-Introduction to your hosts
-Discussion of chapters 1-6 from "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"
-An interview with TastyAsItGets, author of "The High King, the Duchess, and the Secret"
-Fan fiction recommendations
2. I started a new Edmund/OC story that I'm really excited about and I'd love some feedback. It's NOT a Mary-Sue.
Title: Like the Touch of Rain
Rating: PG13
Author: IrishSongBird
Prologue
Like the Touch of Rain
by IrishSongBird
Like the Touch of Rain
by Edward Thomas
Like the touch of rain she was
On a man's flesh and hair and eyes
When the joy of walking thus
Has taken him by surprise:
With the love of the storm he burns,
He sings, he laughs, well I know how,
But forgets when he returns
As I shall not forget her 'Go now'.
Those two words shut a door
Between me and the blessed rain
That was never shut before
and will not open again
Prologue
Calormen, the year 1014
Of all the ways she imagined dying, she never thought it would be like this: as a traitor to her country. There was no one in this hostile crowd of people that would save her, not even her own son. The man she loved escaped the prison of Tashbaan less than forty-eight hours earlier, along with any hope of her own survival and freedom. She had helped her only glimpse of happiness sail away in the dead of night on a ship bound for his own country to ensure his own survival. Now she could only hope he would get there safely.
Under the scorching sun of Tashbaan, she took a deep breath and gazed calmly into the faces of her enemies. She once considered them her countrymen, but there were few kindred spirits around her now. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found the round little face she was looking for, standing on a high balcony away from the dirty peasants below. She could see the fear in his eyes, though he stood tall and proud, the way his grandfather did beside him. He had a clear view of her, hands fastened behind her back as she knelt, awkwardly tied to the pole that stopped uncomfortably halfway up her back on the wooden platform in the middle of the city’s public commons. Her heart ached for him, even though he was the reason she was here in the first place. He shouldn't have to watch his own mother's brutal execution.
She knew in her heart that this wasn't his fault, and her only regret was that she wouldn't get to see him grow up or try to make him a more honorable man than he was sure to become without her. She would never see her daughter again, either, that small precious bundle she had to place in the arms of another woman when the baby was only five weeks old. At least there were finally no more secrets: at least the baby's father finally knew she existed, and would hopefully bring her to safety before any harm could come to her.
Her breath caught in her throat when the drums finally started their steady rhythm and the crowd parted to reveal the elaborately dressed executioner advancing toward her with his curved scimitar at the ready. There was nothing to be done now but face death with her head held high. Her decisions couldn't be undone, and if she had to go back and do it all again, she knew she probably wouldn't do anything differently. She would choose him every time.
The crowd was startlingly silent and she couldn't gauge whether they were enjoying the spectacle or repulsed by it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, conjuring his face in her mind. He always made her feel braver.
The drums stopped abruptly and her eyes snapped open as she was pierced by sudden fear. She heard the sound of the scimitar as it sliced through the still air and thought quickly, Aslan help me! And then she heard no more.
Chapter One
Chapter Two