| Fanfiction Pan's New Flute (Hellsing) Chapter 1: Fugitives Chapter 2: Carnelian Chameleon Chapter 3: Visionaries and Liars Chapter 4: Follow the Worms Chapter 5: On the Inability of Man to Sit Still in a Room Chapter 6: The Eye of Ra Chapter 7: All Ashes to the Taste Before She Woke Up: Companion piece to Pan's New Flute Hellsing One-Shots Live and Let Die Insomnia Witch Hunter Robin One-Shots After Hours Of Monsters and Men (Witch Hunter Robin) Chapter 1: Last One to Go Cowboy Bebop One-Shots Julia Dream |
| Email Me: [email protected] |
| Links My LJ |
| Hey, this is Gugalanna. Most of this stuff is on fanfiction.net. Actually, right now, all of this is on ffn, but soon, original fiction will be lurking here as well. I'm posting my stuff here because I hate ffn, as they are content nazis. And I dislike the format used on aff.net. One last thing: I know you can leave reviews on ff.net, but if you want to discuss the individual fics, or writing in general, or the anime they are based upon, feel free to email me, or better yet, leave me a message on my LJ. If I get enough readers, or enough interest, I'll post a new LJ or page for just commentary on the fics. Enough. READ! The invisible monkey commands you. |
| Random Thoughts on the Matter |
| 6/11/07 A short essay I wrote almost two years ago. I like some of it and hate some of it. This is the original. I'll be posting the edited version in the next couple of weeks. 4/23/06 The past is colored by the present. Those who are now content, see the past in black and white, with faces moving softly and indistinctly, events tinged gray with the vestiges of happiness, sadness, anger and something that vaguely resembles disillusionment. People who now suffer from violent and maniacal bouts of depression, anger or malcontent have Technicolor shades of memory. Each scene from a broken childhood recreated from the shards of broken dreams and nonsense muttered in sleep. For those who are neither happy nor voraciously discontent, for those who still seek the edges of something they cannot name or touch or smell, memory comes in flashes of sepia-toned photographs. The embossed edges are sharp and painful, but the pain is a sweet remembrance of a time they never experienced, though they dreamt it, perhaps. |
| A writing journal |
| NEWS: 6-11-07 I will be deleting the Ergo Proxy page. I never keep it up or anything, so it's gone. 11-11-06 Update for PNF. Chapter 7: All Ashes to the Taste is up and ready!!! 6-27-06 I've created a new page dedicated to Ergo Proxy. You can find it in the links section below. It's just starting for now, so it looks really crappy. But check back for updates. 5-31-06 So, here's a gas: I just found an old collection of poetry I wrote when I was 15. It's god-awful. I mean it's really bad, but here you go: Sappy, scary metaphysical teenage poems 4-23-06 New section-random drabbles, I think they're called... 4-22-06 I've finally got chapter 6 of PNF up. Yay!!!! |