Tag Archives: Christina Anne Hawthorne

Other Worlds

Other lands, other places, other creatures, other races. Dragons, elves, all things magic, renowned cities, thriving or tragic. Spells cast, powers gathered, grand adventures and treasures disclosed. For all that’s fantastic in otherworld fantasy, what’s vital in the end is … Continue reading

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The Aesthetic that Caused 2 Major Decisions—15 Years Apart

No one can accuse me of not examining my life from different perspectives, that’s for certain. I find it helpful, both personally and as a writer. What triggered this post was a long and boring series of events. What matters … Continue reading

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Before the Mirror

Day and life gyrated, a breeze dying outside, her anxieties seeking to take hold. Her mind in crisis, she sat cross-legged on the floor facing the one in need. “I swear, I’ll not deny to you what I give to … Continue reading

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Cut As Glass

To be alive, thriving was a dream she wanted close, walking beside her, keeping her from dying again. Tomorrows lurked, threats waiting around sharpened corners, past footfalls echoing behind, each face obscured in the fog chasing. She breathed too fast, … Continue reading

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The Me I’m Supposed to Be

This isn’t the post I planned to write. Instead, at the last minute, I changed it. My apologies if it borders on a rant, but in truth, it’s a pep talk for any of you out there who’re in any … Continue reading

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Life

Was life still life if people’s lives were bled away slowly, if what was stolen was legally taken in slow motion? How was life precious if only some lives were recognized, if only some who died were seen as ever … Continue reading

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What Will Be

Her imagination’s renderings, more or less, were her capturing more than anyone could guess. Her perspective’s interpretation, what she could see, was her dreaming what no one else could imagine seeing. Her sunrise’s inspiration, painted with optimism, was her vow … Continue reading

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What’s in a Name? Maybe a Story

What’s in a name? Sometimes quite a lot, but sometimes not. The more important the character the more time I spend selecting a name. Thus, of course, protagonists require a lot of time. What if, though, a protagonist is more … Continue reading

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Pitchfork

Tumbling out of the aether, landing in another age, a place in time, but a memory removed from the beginning. Middle age, late middle age, old, measures of time, she spied their shadows if she looked over her shoulder, forgetting … Continue reading

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There Were Times

Sometimes her visions of freedom whispered goodbye. Sometimes her heart broke against hatred’s cries. Sometimes she needed to escape the lies. Sometimes she held herself and cried. Sometimes she died inside. Each time—a sigh. Each time she returned to life. … Continue reading

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