'Lo there.

I'm oony, a struggling writer/reader/student/everything that will perform odd jobs for money/food/clothing/shelter.

WILL WRITE FOR MONEY!

No, so I'm a senior in college. I'm clinically obsessed with this certain book series written by one completely mad and brilliant woman. Maybe you've heard of her? J.K. Rowling something or another if I remember correctly. That and nearly anything relating to biology--probably is a good thing, being the subject I've been in a very one sided relationship with for the past three years now.

I've been told that I write too much. This is on account that my pen usually runs away with my paper, elopes with it, and then runs off to make crazy pen/paper -what would that be, anyway? Penaper?- babies. Apparently the same holds true for my fingers and the keyboard.

I've spawned over one hundred and some odd number fics, but I've only now started to share them with the public. This is mostly on account that I'm so computer challenged that I couldn't figure out how to get anything to work. It only took me two years to learn how to post my fiction on line! Wow, looking at that makes me really embarrassed.

There goes the running and the eloping and the baby making again.

So, many people are frightened by the fact that, when a good fic is up, that the author will mysteriously get eaten by a rabid polar bear and never finish it again. I keep a can of Polar-Be-Gone on me at all times. Nope, no polar bears here.

To make sure this never happens to me I not only keep a can of Polar-Be-Gone on me at all times, but I also post nothing that's not finished.

Golly Gee Wiz! Ain't that genius? I thought of that one all by myself. I developed this theory over the two years that I could not figure out how to get my fics from Word to the actual site. Least I did something productive.

Rest easy knowing that anything that pops up here will be finished, is finished. What ever way you want to look at it.

R.R.R

Rewrite.

Remus.

Revolution.

I am the revolution and I am here to make a difference.

... Agravaine was one of those luckless intellectuals who are too proud to give in to brute force. He was the kind who gets knocked down in an argument because he cannot defend himself, but continues the argument on the floor, sneering, 'Go on, then, hit me again to show how clever you are.

-T.H. White. The Once and Future King.

They thought that they understood each other once more--but their doubt had been planted. Now, in their love, which was stronger, there were the seeds of hatred and fear and confusion growing at the same time: for love can exist with hatred, each preying on the other, and this is what gives it its greatest fury.

-T.H. White. The Once and Future King.

R.I.P. Remus John Moony Lupin.

R E M U S A N D S I R I U S