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Genre: Science Fiction
About AppleOfDiscordLocation: British Columbia, Canada Age:25 Website: http://www.thegoldenapple.weebly.com Favorite novels: The Snow Garden, Winter of Fire, Pandora, Lords Of The Underworld, Evermeet, Ulysses, 1984, The Golden Bowl, A Handful of Dust, All The Kings Men, The Sun Also Rises, A Clockwork Orange, Heart of Darkness, Guilty Pleasures, Child of the Phoenix, The Handmaid's Tale, Dianetics, The Odyssey, Something Borrowed, The Shadow Triology. Favorite writers: Rudyard Kipling, Emily Dickinson, Mark Twain, Brent Weeks, Anne Rice, Christopher Rice, Barbara Erskine, Shakespear, Homer. Favorite music: Meditation tracks. Non-noveling interests: Roleplaying, Photography, Cosplay, Website/Graphic Design, Cooking, Esthetics. |
Joined: November 2, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 0 NaNoWriMo buddies: 0
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Brief Author Bio: [Destiny] ; 20-something. proud canadian. in-love-with-love. self professed procrastinator. never wants to grow up. laughs loudly. star gazer. cancerian. fantasy obsessed. devours words like candy. finds beauty in everything. has a camera permanently attached to her wrist. optimist. dreams in color. likes to listen to the rain in the dark. top secret weakness : smores cookies and steampunk. is putting off her novel writing to write this. I'm a little apprehensive about being here and doing this. But I'm going to give it my best shot. ♥ |
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Synopsis: The Long Drive Goodnight
“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light. I have loved the stars too fondly, to be fearful of the night.”
Excerpt: The Long Drive Goodnight
The streets don’t have names anymore, just numbers. The People (whoever they are) decided it was far more convenient to turn our cities into enormous grids. Nobody lives on Hope Crescent or visits Lovers Lane anymore. Not even Napoleon (Avenue) survived the transformation. I think that one’s called 209th Street now, or something. Imagination is going the way of Philosophy and romance, and it certainly ain’t up. The despicable reality of it all is that being human means so very little to people these days. It won’t be long before we don’t even have names; just the chronological numbers of our birth dates arranged like bar codes uneventfully stamped into our souls. I’m hoping we accidentally nuke ourselves before then.
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