Timewaster's Guide Archive

Thank you for your input, folks ^^ Time to continue trudging onward.

If any of you are interested in reading it for the sake of reading, I can put you on my alpha reader list; my monthly submissions are going to be my current chapter (seems kind of stupid to submit the next sequential chapter, when I'm four or five or ten ahead of that).

This is the first chapter of my attempt to rewrite one of my longest projects. Fateshapers has a place very close to my heart, and it would honor me deeply if you would be as honest as possible with your critiques and feelings on it.

Originally I intended to write this segment of the series in 5 books, then have a prequel book (a la New Spring, then pair of trilogies delving far back into the history of the world. As for anything later, I'm not sure yet. Just want to finish all of the work I've planned.

I hope you enjoy, and that this rewrite isn't slaughtering the crap out of my story. ^^

This thread is going to be buried. Raethe et Chaos, you need to talk to another mod/admin about it, or see to getting your status fully changed to mod.  The fun is about to hit the fan ^^

"Reading Excuses - [username] - [date] - [title/section]"

I'd use that. Then you can just set your email to filter the phrase "Reading Excuses" into a folder.

Mine will be being sent later today, possibly after midnight. I'm out of town and ended up without a connection that lets me upload... blegh.

As I finished confessing, I thought of all of the terrible things I'd done in the past few hours: the bacon allowed to spoil, the multitude of pants that sat in my closet yet unworn. Striking myself one final time with an especially leathery strip of pork, I muttered a small prayer to The-Great-Hand-Who-Shall-Reign-Down-Bacony-Judgement, and promptly felt better as I forgave myself my sins.

Cracking the door, I peered at the clock on the wall of the chapel, and saw that virtually no time had passed since I entered my confessional. Lamenting that I was so short about my revelation, I could feel his Lordship urging me to my holy duty; I checked my headdress, put on the feather-laden skull mask that I'd set aside in the room earlier, and stepped out into the chapel.

I made my way to a massive candelabra filled with purple and black candles made of rendered pork-fat, the monstrosity towering behind the altar, it's branches growing up at a split so they wreathed the image of His Greatness, and began to light the candles with my ceremonial barbecue lighter.

"Oh great Fellfrosch, he who gave unto us the sacred texts of Baconals and The Lord of the Lunatics, do bless us, your church, this day as we prepare for this most momentous occasion. Bless that your Chorus of Evil Laughter may do as we could please, bless that your finger-foods provide nourishment and not be undercooked or too rotted, and bless that this divine raiment not cause any more problems..."

As I turned around, I heard a candle fall, and felt a distinct warm feeling on the back of my head. Fell blast it...

I nodded sagely as I listened to one of the Chorus members tell me that the bride had been through recently. After a moment of thought, I remembered that the girl's name was Wilson - an odd name for a girl, that - and by the looks of the laugh she was suppressing, I assumed she was quite a zealot.

"Oh, Lord-of-the-Baconey-Infinite, thank thee for blessing us with such a proud Chorus this day." I muttered, adjusting my headdress.

Peering at the clock a moment, I marveled at the engineering genius that had designed such a device: a clock made of bacon; though it was a little hard to read, since one of the rabid altar-boys got the idea to munch on it. Thank thee, oh lord, for striking him down, and using my hand to do it.

"Keep to your practicing, you vagabonds. I want to hear some truly diabolical laughs out there, really lay the embarrassment onto whoever we find to ridicule... I'm serious, if someone forgets a vow, or trips, or the groom is silly enough to go through with it, just let it rip." I finished my oration with a bow that nearly dethroned the purple and black glory that rested on my head, then spun on my heel, and walked out into the chapel.

It was starting to fill now, a woman near the back was speaking to a lad holding a book of some sort, while yet another appeared to be eyeballing the pews with hunger. Near the back, a throng of guests was attacking our appetizers, partaking in the baconey body of His Divine Evilship.

Walking around behind the altar and the large portrait of the Oh-Great-One-Who-Doth-Grant-Us-Fried-Foods, I popped into the confessional. There were a few sins I needed to tell myself about before I'd feel clean again.

Standing in my office, I looked carefully in the mirror. Today was to be a big day - the first wedding in the Church of Fellfrosch that hopefully wouldn't end with someone dying of a cholesterol-induced heart-attack, or mass vomiting - and everything was to be perfect.

Picking up the large, feathered purple and black headdress from it's stand, I neatly set it on my head, and used the mirror to set it into place. As I continued setting about myself with regalia, I listened to the small din from the main chapel, and hoped that the rabid servants/altar-boys had set out the appetizers and lit the bacon incense.

Finishing my arduous preparations, I stepped out into the main chapel and took a good look around at the handful of people gathered. Never had so many graced this hall - except that one time we were mysteriously chosen to host a Fat-Losers meeting.