Date: Thu, 30 May 1996 12:10:03 +0000 From: Chalindra Subject: INTRO and SUB: Heidi Cole AKA Chal and "Droplets" Greetings, My name is Heidi Cole, but please, call me Chalindra or Chal. It's a name I've grown quite fond of. I live in State College, PA, USA (Home of Penn State U. *gag*). I'm 23 and have not-so-recently graduated from a dinky university with my BA in English (concentrations in writing and linguistics; minors in Computer Science and Mathematics). I hope to be accepted into a local school to persue a PhD in English in hopes of eventually teaching (yes, you guessed it) WRITING! A little of my personal life: I have THE most wonderful boyfriend ever (MHO) and two of the cutest kittens I have ever seen. (I had to try to pose them for the pictures I had taken of them. I get them Thursday, so I hope they turn out well.) I'm a total music fanatic. Music I love, I adore; music I hate, well it's not a pretty sight. ;) My highlight in music so far is being close enough to Trent Reznor (of Nine Inch Nails fame) that he could lean over and sweat on me. *Beatles fanatic-like scream* I'm addicted to Role-Playing Games (AD&D, Vampire, Shadowrun, Call of Cthulhu, Tales from the Floating Vagabond, etc.), which is one facet that keeps me writing, I *LOVE* to write, so I hope to have something to turn in for all of Tink's exercises, although I'm not sure how I'm gonna approach this Halloween contest. (Wish me skill.) I'd love to write more short stories, but I have a hard time figuring out exactly where to start in a story. So, lately, I've been trying my hand at poetry. Now this is the funny part. I don't get most poetry. I'm not sure whether being forced to read poetry has turned me off from it or whether I'm just not a metaphoric person. (I doubt it's the second. I love Sylvia Plath's more morbid poetry.) Fortunately, I have read two poems on here "Cold Toes" and "Autumn Soldiers" that I loved. *applause* (Carol: I tried writing a similiar poem 2 years ago. You did so much better. :) ) Well, anyway, I'm on here to try to better my grasp at reading and writing poetry (I have a lot of work ahead of me.) and anything else I can hope to gleam from here. Now, that I've spent way too long on a intro (are you all still here?), I'll leave you with a little something to critique, delete, enjoy, hate, comment on, whatever. Just have a reaction! And, uh, if you can think of a genre to put this into, let me know, 'k? Take care o' you. ------- "Droplets" The lights along the river still glimmer on the slow-flowing water, their light dancing on the tip of each ripple as the final drops of rain fall from the tree limbs into the water below. The candlelight dims on the still water in the tub, its light nearly swallowed as the last of your blood drips from your arm to the red water below. -- Heidi Cole August 27, 1996