What I Have Written
"Now That They Have Come To This" (freebie)
Free-verse poem about the wreckage of ships and sea-monsters washing up on a beach.
"A Purple Monster" -- 15 lines, $5
I took "A Purple Monster" as the title for a poem, written in unrhymed triplets. It's about a Duurludirj village going to sea at the beginning of the storm season, and passing a jellyrigger on the way. But the sea monster is not the biggest threat out there.
"The Museum of Mortality" -- 7,363 words, $74 or 74 TW credits
Brelig recovers from his injuries (see "Without Fail") and spends some time working in a museum associated with the Warsailor Guild. He makes some new friends, tells stories, and eagerly looks forward to returning to his real job. Multiple sea monsters are mentioned in different contexts, per May as Sea Monster Month.
"A Whole New Kind of Beauty" -- 28 lines, $7.50
From the prompt about fish bone earrings, I got the poem "A Whole New Kind of Beauty." A female warsailor talks about fighting soldierfish and how that has changed her life. Unrhymed quatrains.
"Catch and Release" is a short story visible to supporters only, posted for Sea Monster month. Vlaran also appears.
Dorom, Ereil, and Amaqor go ice-fishing near Itakith.
It can be sponsored for $30.25 or 30 Torn World credits.
"Fish of the North: Salmon" is a background article for the northern habitat.
Salmon form a vital part of the Northern diet and influence summer activities.
If you like these items and want to see more like them, please consider sending me credits or karma through Torn World's crowdfunding options. Not a Torn World member, but still want to support the work? I have a permanent PayPal button on my LJ profile page.
After the storm passes,
sea-wrack washes up on the beach
to lie smooth and damp on the sand --
driftwood worn pale and fine
from the slender ribs of the ships,
darker planks from the spine
the white bones of thunder-whales
and the dagger teeth of deathfins
strewn along the high-tide line --
all alike now that they have come to this,
ghosts cast up from a watery grave,
their savage might come to naught in the end.