serializednovel.wordpress.com - The Fist

I'm really trying to plug my serialized novels blog.
I have 3 novels going at once, and a page for short unsorted stories.
I have only managed to snag 12 homo sapiens to peruse it so far.
Help. Please. I'm getting performance anxiety. I equate web page hits with phallic ego obsession.
=P
24 chapters across 3 books so far. 15 chapters of Space Tunnel to Asslandia.

Here is chapter 2 from book one whose working title is:
The Lo-Tech Hobo Hero and the Mysterious Conspiracy of Evil Killer Shits

The Fist
He could remember when he had found the Fist, yet he could not remember exactly when.

He remembered a time when he did not have it. Even five years ago he couldn’t remember having it.

Drunk, he was meditating. Smoking a spliff. He had the tibetan zim incense he’d splurged four bucks on and four cans of hi test left. He’d already polished off two tall cans of 8% before he’d started the six-pack. Just the way he liked it. Fuck asceticism.

In the other way of seeing he is not in a room smaller than a jail cell with no furniture, sitting on the floor, smoke curling up.

There, he is standing. It is a field. A battlefield. Bodies everywhere. Armour. Shields. Nothing is moving. The blood is dry. There are no carrion feeders or smoke. Two banners across the field hang limply down with no wind to move them. The sun is obscured by a reddish overcast extending to dark grey. His hair is very long, with string intricately woven on the ends of something like thin dreadlocks, dirty blonde.

The Fist is on his right hand. Nothing else moves as he pans his view. Rolling hills. Unfamiliar grass. He doesn’t recognize any markings. He has never been to this place in his real life, but who he is here, standing, has lived his whole life there. There is a hammer made of stone and carved wood leaning against his leg, head on the ground. There is no blood on the Hammer. He clenches the Fist and looks at it. The Fist mourns as much as he does, but he is hard, not weeping. Dry. Like the blood.

Then he is sitting in his room again, reaching for another beer. There are tears on his face, streaming into his mouth.

The Fist remains, invisible

The Christuus Gnosis Tarot Reference

I have a really great tarot reference I created using a number of decks in a massive orphalese tarot torrent. I put my 8 favourite decks in an html table with the rider waite meanings. Its pretty sweet, but I haven't converted it to any other format, like doc or pdf, because it was made for viewing on the laptop. You need to use the browser scrolling and zooming for it to work for you, so I made it in dreamweaver. If you want a copy and your email can take 39 meg attachments let me know and I'll send it to you.

 This link MIGHT work. If it does, let me know.