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In case you didn’t know, my wife is currently pregnant with our second child. If you haven’t heard yet, this is the announcement! The little one is due in September. We’re going to find out in three weeks what the gender is. What do you think it will be? Note: A poll used to appear here, but I have since discontinued using the plugin required t...

A bead of sweat trickled down Nomet’s brow, making a wet track through the sandy grime caked there. It stopped at his eyebrow, dispersing into the dark hair. He wiped at it with the back of his hand, then held his arm there to shade his eyes temporarily from the harsh sun. Of his shirt and pants, only rags were left. He had lost his veil and hea...

I wanted to say a few things about my last post, “On Dragons.” First, a few questions. Did you get the sense that the historian had some special status? Or did he maybe just seem pompous or nuts? Did the style of the letter turn you off? Was it annoying to slog through the salutation and genealogy? Did the abrupt beginning and ending wo...

Muomno cleaned his blade on the dead man’s robe, then stepped over the body to the writing desk. A dim lantern hung over it, illuminating little else. On the desk lay a scroll half filled with the admirable calligraphy of the Empire’s historians. In his fright, the dead man had dropped his pen when Muomno entered. It had left a blob of ink to ma...

In reading past comments, I realized I left someone’s question unanswered. I’m going to answer it now. The snippet of prose in my last post isn’t tied to any particular goal just yet. It’s not part of a novel (yet) or a short story (yet). It’s just a scene I’ve had in my head for a while. It is, however, tied to a setting in which I have thought...

Time to leave. This one thought stuck in the back of Weathulf’s mind, refusing to be banished. They had camped here in this high valley for weeks—no, it was months now—waiting for the old man to speak. Each day they rose from their blankets, cold and stiff, looking to him, hoping for some word. But each day he merely shook his head, his blind ey...

I guess I’ve created a blog. I suppose I’ll start with a brief explanation of what the name of my blog means. Noesis means intuition, thinking, or cognition. I’ve found other definitions, but I like those synonyms rather well. You might imagine that when I chose the name “Noesis,” I was thinking about writing a blog about thinking, or at least ...