10.1.11 | By: Megan Langham


Moonlight streamed through the half-open window, bathing the wrinkled paper in a pale unearthly glow. No written word did the light reveal; not so much as a hesitant beginning. Beside the paper, just out of the moonlight’s reach, lay a pencil. It was an old pencil, marked with constant erasures and battle-scars that looked suspiciously like teeth-marks, and as it lay rolling a little on the wooden table, a small hand touched it. “You’ve been waiting long enough,” whispered a low voice as the hand took it up; the pencil knew that it was not to it the voice spoke, but it was glad enough of the words. For you see, words are life to this pencil.

It is difficult, often, to know just what to say at a beginning. Perhaps I ought to start this out properly by introducing myself. My name is Megan, as you can see from the sidebar in the little box mysteriously entitled "The Scribe". (Originally I thought my name was of Irish derivation, but I have since been proved wrong: this particular spelling is Welsh, as a matter of fact. And as a matter of more fact, I should be quite happy with Welsh or Irish either.) But it’s likely you know me better as Meriwen, which name would be sprung of Elvish etymology, spelt rather poorly for ease of—er—spelling.

I am a writer, which means this blog shall consist mostly of writing-speak. But even before a writer I am a loyal friend and subject of this world’s rightful King, which means I shall be talking of Him a good deal. It is only fair, as He is the source of any inspiration or idea in my mind; I am merely His pencil. (Not a pen, though. I should never ever like to be a pen.)

As far as what I write: it’s hard to say. My first love is historical fiction, as I greatly enjoy researching the world’s unfolding romance and telling bits of it in my own way; but I have written other-world stories from time to time, and a good deal of my historical fiction is touched with fantasy. It is fiction, after all. I am also an incurable bookworm—have been, quite literally, ever since I can remember—and I believe it must have been my love of books that sparked my love of writing. There has never been a time when the love of language has not filled me.

That seems to be a good enough introduction for the time being. As I post more you’ll learn more—I shouldn’t like to tell you too much about me at once and so deprive you of the chance to discover for yourself, should I now? (Mind, if you come to the end and the stone-cold realization that there was nearly nothing at all to discover, I shan’t be held responsible.)

This Celtic music is enchanting and my tea kettle is doing its best to sing along. I shall try to come up with something less inane for my next venture, but until then I leave you with this blessing:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rain fall soft upon your field,
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

5 missives:

Jenny said...

Greetings, Meganmydear! I took my contacts out so my eyes are all "Waaaaahwhyareyoudoingthistous?" but I'll give it my best shot and damnabled be the consequences. No, that's too dramatic, as Marthe puts it. Let's have them pummeled with onions, that's better.

Welcome to The Blog Cycle. Not to be confused with Ulster or Fenian Cycles - not as if you could. Not as if I've got any working silver hands about me. I dare say when One of Us starts something, the Rest join in, so it's jolly well pleasant to have you on the band-wagon too. ^.^ And, too, you'll have a better chance of keeping track of me and rapping my naughty knuckles when they aren't dutifully typing on Between Earth and Sky.

The bit with the pencil, that was good. I mean, the literature bit. The part about not being a pen explains a great deal, and I'll try to be less disconcerted when I hold your letters, for I live in mortal fear that I'll smudge the precious lines. >.> But the literature bit, I liked that. Sweet, and mournful, but quietly pleasant.

O'p, there go the eyeballs. Thank goodness I don't have to look at the screen when I type. And, can we follow you? Imminanot seeing a follow button. Even /I/ can't figure these blog things out sometimes. Shame shame. >.>

Eowyn said...

Huzzah for MeriBlog!

I very much look forward to seeing more of this. All I can say is I Squeed. And that the background is wonderful and so very you. And that is a wonderful beginning. And the part about the pen made me smile.

I have nothing particularly awe-inspiring or even remotely deep to say at this particular moment. But. It is late, and my brain is not functioning the way a Good Brain should.

Apples and Laud! I look forward to reading this. ^.^


Abigail J. H. said...

Hello, Megan! Your blog template has made me dissatisfied and covetous, I'll have you know.

I was looking at your bedside table (bwahaha?) and I noticed Tennyson; I was just commenting the other day that he is about the only poet, all of whose poems which I have seen I have also liked. I would like to read some more of his.

Anywho, I will be eagerly reading your blog posts as they come! ^.^

Jenny said...

I, too, am envious of this beautiful layout, but I didn't want to say so for fear of spreading Dissension and Discontent. It is very much Meganic, and I hope you aren't thinking of changing it. At least I can enjoy it by proxy!

Megan L. said...

You three are darlings. ^.^

(I must get you to read Tennyson, Abigail. He's my favoritest poet, though I didn't like "Enoch Arden" as much as some of his others.)

As far as layout: why, thank you! I love this one dearly. And do you know, Abigail and Jenny, your new templates are two of the four (including this one) that I was balancing between. So now I can enjoy all of them!

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