FAQ: Up, up, and Away!

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

original posting: Sat, 2 Apr 1994 18:35:02 JST

FAQ: Up, up, and Away!

Just before true sunrise, the air is still and the light is faint and tricky. The clanks and squeaking sounds of cloth and plastic and metal rubbing and sliding are clear in that pause before the world wakes. Colors jump from the overall grayness as vaguely seen figures bustle around, unrolling fragile skins, bolting odd skeletal frameworks together, yanking cords that make sudden flames roll, puffing shimmering life into the bulging strange mounds that wobble and bounce oddly, waiting for the sun to come.

Then the fleet flounders up, firming, rising suddenly into the sky with a bound as hot air balloons lift themselves into glory.

There a bright red one glistens in the sunshine for a brief moment, then sinks again. Here a dull brown one swells, riding serenely in majestic silent display amongst the flock. Some faster, some slower, some higher, some lower, but all scudding lightly in the morning air.

Perhaps today's ride will be bouncy. Cold air, raindrops, storm tossed currents, even lightning bolts from the blue, all may sometimes make one falter, or even go down despite all the friendly help and advice from other members of the flotilla. Some coast ahead, some lag, but when the evening comes, the talk isn't about who was first or fastest or highest, it's about being there, taking part, enjoying the ride wherever it may have taken us.

Welcome to WRITERS. The balloons are being prepared, the air is still right now, and the sun will rise again soon. If you can, we'd love to have you with us, as we rise again, and go up, up, and away on the winds of words into those places only readers and writers share...

Come take a trip with us? We've got sights to see and places to go, and words that flow and tickle and tease across the thin skins warm and high... to glory we must fly, and soon... come fly with me...

So breath softly in the early morning hush, and wrestle with your undercarriage, but tug the lanyard lustily and let the rising warmth of your own flames fill your fragile skin and lift you into the light, raising you to where the world is serene and wider than your dreams. Don't forget to tell your friends here on WRITERS how you liked the ride, okay, and point out any special sights or wonders you have found as you fly with us today and into the future, bright or dark, together.
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FAQ: Writhing in the Mists: A Diffident Hello

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

original posting: Sat, 4 Jun 1994 18:35:03 JST

FAQ: Writhing in the Mists: A Diffident Hello (v.1)

It's been a while, and I'm feeling lazy, so here's a re-run!

Writhing in the Mists: A Diffident Hello
April 1, 1993 (Vers. 1)
mike barker (tinkerer's apprentice)
614 words

Delving in the deeps of the electronic jangle, you've found this. And like others before you, you may wonder just what you've found.

Looking closely, you'll learn this is a mirror. It may be called WRITERS@[bitnet address] or writers@[internet address], but in the mists, the mirror dangles at the end of electronic vines that wrap around the world, thrusting tendrils searching for those the mirror can brighten.

What kind of mirror? Sometimes brassy, sometimes glassy and quicksilver gleaming, but always changing and ever the same, a flowing stream casting reflections across the jangle.

Beware of what you may find here, for the writers' mirror can reflect a terrible swift sword of sight, slicing the wings from angels to make them walk the earth, burning you with a blackened wisp of sad regrets, or bringing life to the diamond heart. Swinging again, you may see moonbeams dancing on elven toes, glimpse the navel of the buddha, feel the poet's wild fire. On another swing, who knows what will look out from that mirror, bringing laughter and fear, heartbreak or drear?

But try the mesmerizing crystal for a while, watch it swing and twist, sway and turn, sooth and burn, and you may learn to crave its oddly comforting swirls and curls dancing in the night.

Add your own trembling dashes to the invigorated bobbing of this mystical mirror and you may find it a doorway, opening again and again into worlds of wandering wonder, blundering banter, tactless technique, even friendship now and then.

Watch as it swings, lightly it sings, sometimes prosaic, sometimes too terrible for human hearts breaking, now there's your face, here comes a race, and there.. a truth you've never dared to show? words your heart had ready to flow? tears and smiles, too many miles yet to go, before you reap the work you seek, yet walking with others is twice as fast as digging alone into the past.

Be aware of the mirror, let it guide you and mind you, but mostly hello, from one tale twister to another.

Hello, writer.

Keep an eye out for yourself in the mirror - you may enjoy what you learn about yourself!