So, I'm no longer a poet. But since TORC does not permit a change of usernames and since I'm --er --- on my way to Ringbearer at some point, I must suffer the moniker.
But to all of you who don't know me, I'm Will. To those of you who do, I'm still Will. And like an unnamed Blue Wizard crashing Lindon while Cirdan's courting a lady friend, I'm back.
Where have I been? Is there and back again too cliché? It's going to need to suffice in the short run. In short, I've been in Tamriel (kudos to those of you who know what that means). I've been choking on the ennui of the real world. And I've been trying to write. Especially since this year I turned 40.
So what's it all about, this thread in all of the dim white noise of other Will spawned threads? Well, this one is NOT necessarily literary. I'm no longer the snobbish man of letters I once aspired to be. I'm no longer a regular poet - particularly since most of the verse I craft would be BANNED due to an NC-17 rating. I'm a man about town. I watch a lot of hockey. I became ... a VIDEO GAMER. I drink more than just ale. And I've been told more than once I'm not right ... in the HEAD.
I hoping to re-connect with old friends, make new ones, discuss why Ancalagon the Black is the best dragon anywhere, why Martin Freeman was the best Bilbo ever, and even argue that if a faux dwarf/elf romance can be invented in a Hobbit trilogy than Mewlips should be inserted into a Silmarillion pentad?
Squids are still bad. Silwen is still my touchstone to reason. And I ardently hope you will all NOT be strangers. Cheers.