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About Duskglimmer

Duskglimmer was born at 12:13 on a Thursday morning in early November. If she tells you she remembers the smell of aging leaves and crisp snow coming across the mountains, she's lying. She can't remember. She imagines. Since then, she's been imagining quite a few things: what it would be like do magic, the best way to live on the oceans, how long it would take to escape duct-tape bindings and what spices would be neccesary to make dragon stew palatable. In between imaginings she went to college, studied Creative Writing and Classical Studies, and now teaches 6th-8th graders the joys of dead languages. In the future she hopes to actually figure out what it would be like to climb in a ship's rigging, and to earn her MFA in Creative Writing.


Current Obsessions: Avengers, The Hobbit, Jeremy Renner, Patrick Rothfuss, and John Green. They will probably change by the time I log on again.


Freelance Writer, Trouble maker, Firm Type 8


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