Itâs Me Me Monday! A day to promote, strut, and celebrate your Me-ness!
In honor of mine, Iâll take you on a journey deep into my imaginationâŚwell, all right, not that deep. Weâre only going to the fringes where my characters await.
A figure sits, like Rodinâs Thinker, only heâs far more slender and androgynous. He could easily pass for a she or something beyond gender entirely. He rests his hand on his chin, contemplating the shadows churning around him, whispering and hissing.
Careful not to step on any shadows, a dwarf trundles out on stocky legs, smoothing his graying beard. He starts to scowl at the figure, only to relax his brow at the bent shoulders of the neglected character.
âWell, look at you,â Quartz said, for it was Quartz, wandering out of his universe beyond the fourth wall as usual. âNever thought the scribbler would neglect you of all the figments of her imagination.â
âSheâs occupied with Danyel and his brothers.â Christopher studies a couple of wispy, slender shapes, even slighter than his own, flitting about each other. âEven their development is being abandoned right now.â
âNo doubts for very good reasons, other deadlines, pressing projects, blah, blah.â Quartz lets out a harrumphing sound. âI wonder sometimes about your story and the scribbler. Seems like she gave way too much away.â
âIâm not part of previously published work.â Christopher allows a melancholy smile to cross his face. âSometimes I wonder if my entire tale will ever be published.â
âYou and me both.â Quartz finds a convenient lump of stone, sticking out of the ground, and seats himself upon it. âUsed to envy all the attention you got, ongoing stories in the Cauldron three times a week.â He raised a bushy eyebrow at the other character. âSeeing you abandoned after all that makes me wonder if youâre not as sorry as the rest of lurking in here.â He sighed. âCenter for a little while, only to be shoved aside whatever else demands the scribblerâs imagination.â
âWeâre in better shape than some.â Christopher lifts his head and gestures to a dark hole, which appears in the ground a few feet from Quartz and himself. âListen.â
The two characters grow silent, pricking up their ears.
A faint sound comes from the hole. Itâs a boyâs voice, younger than Christopher, soft and hesitant.
âUm, excuse me? Where am I? What world am I in? Iâve been in so many, had so many names changes. Iâm no longer sure who I am, let alone where I am. Iâm still Rhodry, arenât I? I used to be Rhodry Mavelyne. Now Iâm Rhodry Nevalyn, right? Am I in a library or a tower? Perhaps both? Iâm not sure about my surroundings. Theyâre dark and fading, I understand that youâre busy, but if you could think of me, from time to time, shine a little light on my existence, Iâd really appreciate it. Any snippet of story I could get involved with or a blog post? Please?â
The voice fades away.
Christopher and Quartz look up and stare at each.
âHeâs been neglected for far longer than either of us.â Christopher crosses his arms, hugging himself, dropping his head. âI feel a little bad taking Danyel, Tayel, and Leiwell from him, all things considered.â
âHeâs been rewritten so many times. Now heâs abandoned.â Quartz examines his beard, sneaking glances at the hole. âIf he was a secondary character, Iâd offer him an interviewâŚwait a moment!â Both of his thick eyebrows shoot up. âYou took Mapâs boys from him?â
âThey werenât exactly Mapâs boys. Map wasnât Map either. It was a different universe and they had different names. Rhodry had a different name, too, well, slightly different.â Christopher raises a fist to his lips, giving the other character a sidelong glance. âNow theyâre what they are and part of my world. Itâs complicated.â
âItâs always complicated.â Quartz chews on his lower lip, considering Christopherâs words. âAnd that scribbler has to remember it all.â
âHence the dark moments when she focuses on something else.â Christopher glances into the darkness, seeing the flashes of color from other ideas, other fragments, other stories flying about gossamer wings, only to fall in mid flight. âWeâre never far from her imagination, though.â
âDonât you forget it.â Quartz puffs out his chest. âDonât you forget it either.â
A smile spreads across Christopherâs face, slow and hesitant.
Well. It looks like those two are bonding. Will miracles never cease.
Iâm glad theyâve glimpsed a little of the mess in here. I havenât forgotten either one of them or their stories.
Theyâre never far from my imagination.
Neither is Rhodry.
Why else would I use his name as my handle at this Cauldron, the Forbidden Cauldron, my dreamwidth account, NaNoWriMo, Twitter, and tumblr?
Your stories are boiling, being prepared in this Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration. Take heart, for it is eternal and so are you.
Iâm not. Iâve got to make the most of every moment Iâve got, to tell as many stories as I can.
Yours included.