Hello, I'm Euphorie! Some of you may know me, other may not. I create a comic series called the Chronicles of Monligula!

I joined so I could show my support to some of the authors I read. I've wrote short stories, but I'm not likely to post them. One day I dream of running my own company, and sell my books in the ever dwindling world of paper copies. Ilove and prefer readi g books by hand, but as anyone from rhe younger generations have started to realize, some things are an impossibility witbout Technoloy. To be honest, writing the story is the fisrt step. Turning it into an art is the second.

Whether it be a visual art or a verval art, writing is very difficult concept to grasp and without proper prose to create imagery, how are the people reading your book supposed to know what goes on in your head?

Thanks for stopping by, hopefully one day writing will become what I live for. We aren't on this earth to teach people how to do thinga, we're here to teach them how to think, to creatively solce problems. Break out of the box, and outside of your comfort zone.

Hmmm... this has become rather long, almost like a story itself.

Perhaps you would like to hear a story? Sir down for tea, I'll weave you a tale of the foolish magician, Marun, and how he accidentally killed his wife, life and his love. Well at least I think thats how it goes. Or perhaps you wouldlike to hear the story about Monligula, the girl who loved her land, but never got to see it.

Imagine a lushous autumn field. The firelit grass littlered with leaves. Trees stood like shadows, brown and on moving. Sunset was upon them. They waited, waited, for everything and nothing. Their lives would forever be different, different from chaos, it would be still. Thalia and Antonio would never again worry of their respective parents. They would bexome one with the rythm of the rain. Always there, always hard, yet feeling so free that makes the soul fly above the wind. The whole world seemed to stop for the two of them. "Now finally, we can Live in Peace". Their souls became black as bark. An they too, never moved again. The whole entire, vast valley, was the same. No matter how many tornadoes, even Katrina could not waver the tree which turned. Every season, a new color. Every year a gift of new height, a gift of stronger roots, and swamped with love.

Imagery, and consistent Point of View. GO FORTH WRITERS!!!!! INFECT THE WORLD!!!!