z

Young Writers Society


logosgal

About logosgal

Many years ago, I was born. I went to school, made up some stories, learned some things, went to school, made some friends, lost some friends, went to school, made some music, traveled a bit, and went to school. Then, just when I thought I was almost done with school, I decided to pursue a career that would involve more school.


Interests

the art and science of language, friends, music, violin, drama, rock hounding, reading, art, philosophy, lots of other stuff

Occupation

College Student, Writing Consultant, Occasional Day Camp Counselor and Dragon Hunter

Website

http://logosgal.livejournal.com/


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien