By any name

I wrote this for the writing: fiction portion of a historical arts and sciences competition some years ago. I wasn’t sure at the time what that actually meant. How do you write fiction for a historical arts and sciences competition? As it turned out, most people decided it meant writing poetry about the past. Because I’m more than a little insane, I took a different approach.

My goal was to produce a piece of fiction in the style of a piece of Renaissance drama. Because I was only allowed to enter ten pages of writing, that’s all I did. But those ten pages, I think, are pretty damn good.  The judges must have thought so too, because the piece won and I received an on-the-spot proposition of marriage (which I believe is a universally acknowledged unit of measuring artistic success.)

For your entertainment I present to you the grand culmination of all my years at college studying Renaissance drama:

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Some recent words I’m proud of

Snow and sky mirrored one another, stark whites and shadow blacks meeting and melding like the finger-paints of a sullen god. The only line separating their reality was the mist-shrouded darkness of majestic pine robed in ice – two rows of their solemn silence divided by a pristine strip of diamond-white snow. A narrow path between absolutes.

At the end of that path, the frozen air obscured the form of a man standing alone.