Dreams of Alchemy is a series of snapshots of my self publishing journey. Along the way I will share some of my short works and what I've learned about the art of storytelling and the publishing world. I speak to you as a fellow student and all things said here are open to debate. I don't have all the answers but I seem to have a lot to say. Take that as you will but I hope it's of use.
You are mine Your body and will given so freely Knowing I will cherish you Relish in you deepest pleasure And bask in your pain.
I know you I know every inch of flesh By sight By touch By taste I rule your every gasp own every sigh Every quivered lip and curled toe
You’ve never felt so complete as when I tell you to bend and All your fears are broken. You bow and kneel, expose to me All that you are, within, without. You give me all of you and I take every bit and more What I give back is rapture. I hold you in a perpetual state Of frenzied bliss.
Because I want to. Because I need to. I drink of you, never sated Always wanting more So I push you to limits You didn’t know you had
When I finally take you Driving into the flesh I’ve set to quiver I find release to my own denied State of frenzy. There is nothing but you.
He sees her living a life of feigned happiness and satisfaction, knowing she is incomplete. He knows she is as lost as he, yet there is nothing for it. He knows she’s a good person and punishes herself like no other could for finding something that was beautiful and precious and “oh so wrong”. He would give her the moon but she would have nowhere to put it.
She watches him, watching her. It’s a form of communication without words, without breaking those rules that the world has imposed on her life and his. Her head knows but her heart is ripped and has always spoken so much more loudly. Now that voice is a wailing cry of one wounded and abandoned on a battlefield no one else is supposed to know exists, no one to know she needs help but the one that she can’t reach out to.
They knew their life together came with an expiration date. No happy ending. Not even simply an ending, just lives divided by glass where breath and touch and completion can never be had, just seen enough to long for in a way that defeats all reason and tops all the physical pains they’ve ever known. The glass is cold and, though it has no edges, it cuts them continually, but cannot sever what was and still very much is.
He wishes he could reorder the universe so that he could have her.
She fears any change in what she spent her life building. Her universe must remain constant.
He will always bow to her desires, even if they leave them both cold and cut, bleeding on the glass just so the stains can overlap like fingerprints on a book cover.
So it appears I will be posting everything here. This is the first of the poetry installments. They will be random and may be 10 a day and none for 10 days. This is the state of my muse at the moment. Only We Know
I’d bleed to breathe The air you’ve long discarded. This life and that Are strange dreams of each other Where all is well And all is ruin. Suffering is the connection, Misery the material, Love the breath of life But our Joy, though fleeting, Is so potent as to spawn a world That only we know.
Hello friends, or anyone that still remembers me or new peeps. Hellurrrr!
I've been on a forfuckingever hiatus from this blog and a real dedicated writing routine for some time. As I've said in the past, life is very good at getting in the way and, though I've never quit writing, I had little time to actively engage and build my platform here at Dreams of Alchemy.
Since I last posted, I did graduate from college with a BFA in Creative Writing. Yay me! I've also become a high school teacher. Dear God, I'm molding the minds of the future. Let's say the damage is mitigated by that fact that I live in the asshole of the universe and, as of yet, no one from this town as ever gone on to infect the world with our special brand of redneck douchebaggery.
So, let me run down some of the projects I'm working on, which is another way of saying, "This is all the wonderful shit I haven't finished and may never fucking finish... goddamnit. I suck. But it's still cool shit just the same."
Speculative fiction
I've written the first half of supernatural horror novel set in 16th century Ireland following the British Civil War and later occupation of Ireland. Did I mention it was historical? Oh, wait, I'll just make is a fictional world and loosely base it on all that shit but the, oh look there's a fucking butterfly. Okay, the deal with this story is, I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! I have great ideas and the writing just flows. I love my protagonist. I love everything about the setting, but it just dies in the middle. I've dissected it over and over. I know there is a problem with the protagonist's motivation and that's why I have written that first half 4 times. Yes, that's 2 novels worth of writing just sitting there with no value or worth.
A military scifi meets manga styled novel about a young genetically engineered teen who is part of a program to develop the breaker pilots of the future, breakers being my name for the mecha style robots that dominate the future of warfare. During an attempt to upload a special kind of A.I. into a girl that is at the head of the class, the school is attacked and the girl is killed, but the A.I. which has been developed to attune to her personality and abilities, seeks out the only other person jacked in to the system at the time, which is our protagonist. He becomes something of a super soldier with the addition of this A.I., Which would be great except it has the personality of a 15 year old girl and has access to his every thought. Drama and hilarity must follow.
Dark Fantasy based loosely on the Crusades period from our world. A young cleric discovers that instead of becoming the healer he has trained most of his life to be, he is the reincarnation of a death knight that nearly conquered the world 300 years ago in what is known as the Black Crusade. This book has legs and is about 40% through the 1st draft. I'm working on this when I have time but I have to admit I've been side tracked yet again by the next subject/bullet down.
Erotica
High Fantasy/Erotic Romance This is a story that I just woke up one day consumed by. I don't know how long it will be or how much of it I will complete and when. I'm still stuck on the Dark Crusader Fantasy above, but this story won't let me be. I've never been so driven to write something and I know that is probably what I'd say about any active WIP. I won't try to explain it or if you'd even care if I did.
For those that don't know, this is my erotica pen name though I'm always writing in the Speculative Fiction arena. And I don't won't my main stream pen name and my erotica pen name to cross over because of that whole high school teacher thing. Make sense? I'm glad you're going along with me on this.
So, here is what I want to do and I'm still not totally set on how to do it. I want to create a space for short prose and poetry of the erotic kind. I have this blog, which has gotten quite dusty, or I could create a new one. I just don't know how often I'll update but I would like to reengage with the erotica community. I know we're a bunch of horny fucks, but I have to say, I've never found a more open and inviting community of writers than with erotica writers. Not just warm and loving but the kind of smart that's really sexy and the kind of smart that's fun and funny. I forgot how much I loved this community so I'll be very happy to meet more of you and hopefully reconnect with some old friends.
-Cas
Listening to: The Pretender by The Foo Fighters
Next up: who the fuck knows. I'm still fingering, I mean figuring this stuff out right now. Stay tuned?
