A new city, a new town, a new street, a new home, a new room, a new bed, a new door, a new dream.
This is the new home for my bonfire of fiction. All of the old feed links are dead. The lease on the webspace unfortunately ran to a close in the middle of resettling from New York City to Pittsburgh. Hopefully the content is not lost, but all of the final, medium polished, edits most certainly are. Unifying links will be drawn later to the open conversations of my selves and their continuing struggle with existence along with the poetry generated like a magnetic field around a changing core (the original offering at the pplg.me home page). I hope to rebuild this new space into something more than the space that died and feature and grow the fiction much more prominently and actively.
The stories and characters will repopulate this territory as quickly as possible, but the civil engineering needed to make a logical layout is still unknown and may end up being a lot less friendly to the curious passerby. That is not what I wanted, partly because one of the biggest obstacles to reading a new author is finding what you like about them, and partly because one of the other biggest obstacles to reading in general is the ease with which the reading can be done. It'll be a day to day project in my free time from my labor job, but I will do my damnedest to make it work because I need to write and I need a place to keep it where it will be happy.
I have moved town to a new place and part of the cost is turning out to be very little time for the things I love and want to do, but as I take care of the absolute needs and musts there will without a doubt be more time for the loves and wants. I'll be composing things imaginary all the while, but they may make it to paper with less frequency for now. It is nice to be home again, and thanks for listening to a compulsive confessor and story teller (though I assume most of the time I am talking to the sky and recording these things to read them later, it puts a smile inside me and makes me feel a little less crazy to believe someone else may be smiling over my shoulder once in a while too).
