Halloween is a fantastic event where kids, and adults alike get to indulge upon themselves. From candy to festivities, this holiday, as well as others, gives us a break from normalcy.

Let's get right to the point. Social media has evolved in such a way, that allows our immediate desires to be satisfied. Rather than pursuing patience and diligence, instead social media allows you to stuff your face with candy day in, and day out. 365 days of the year.

Creativity takes time. It takes an inumerous amount of failures. Creativity itself is hard to monetize. That being said, it is important to remember that for every one person you think is popular on tik tik, or instagram, for participating in a fad, there are thousands of others struggling to raise their voice below the surface. For every viral video, there are thousands others that didn't appeal to that immediate desire.

The solution? Step back. Turn off the social media. Reconnect with yourself, and pursue what wakes you up in the morning. When you are confident, passionate, and grown in your craft, you will draw others to you, and what you do.

I still recount the day,

The day this world gave way to waste,

And the leaves from the great redwood fell from grace…

~ one year prior ~

Life is said to be given with boundless precision.

With no surefire path of navigation,

An unperceivable perception.

For every soul the great vine giveth,

A billion more lay silently asleep,

To drift alone through sands of the void.

I still count my blessings, and remember that

One of the select few sparks of life,

Was mine to hold, and love, for a brief moment in time…

A moment in the abysmal grand scheme…

An epoch in the light of your eyes…

The obligatory eternity, while you lay ’sleep…

When I awoke, you were running through fields,

Fields as luscious as the hair you now bore.

With a smile that could bend the outreached wheat grasping at the sun.

Ten cycles had come and gone,

So young, yet there you were,

Reading beneath the great redwood.

And as all eclipses fade,

The moment passed far too soon.

The day the wheel of time stood still.

I stand before the great redwood awaiting your fruitless return.

While the night’s sky weeps tears upon my face,

And the redwood’s leaves fall from the unbearable weight.

I still recount the day,

The day this world gave way to waste,

And the leaves from that great redwood fell from grace…

S. Deltanis

Last Desserts

The moonlight rises in majestic tempo,

Piercing streams that flow in from the mismatched crevices,

Illuminating the intricate steel carvings, that now surrounds me.

Each little spire is unique, don’t let them tell you otherwise.

I’ve come to know their touch, their strength, but alas all but weakness.

I thought us close enough to expose our flaws, but I have much to learn.

When I find myself getting close,

And a steel friend is ready to cave way to my will,

The moonlight dissipates, to hide behind a cloud, and all goes black.

I desperately watch my friends flicker out one by one,

Hoping one will find the courage to stay, and hear my plea.

It seems I’ve exposed fragility, and the steel grows ever silent.

The void’s darkness seems eternity,

But it is not the white spectrum’s light that awakens me,

It is the soft radiance of an emerging orange and yellow.

One by one my friends return, with offerings of warmth from their embrace.

As the light shines through, the steel shadows have parted ways, leading homeward.

As I follow the trail across the cleared pen’s floor, I find the gift I have long hoped for.

A sweet delicacy, not easily obtained, a fragrance that climbs the jagged walls,

My friends all say nothing, but deep down I know their creation,

The recipe for my fate, an eloquent display of tiramisu.

S. Deltanis

A sample of the prologue:

A steady beat of rain drummed the cascade of the night’s sheet of darkness. The towering structures that surrounded him were shadows in the void, in comparison to the destination ahead. Like sentinels, the spires watched from the cloud lines. Leaving no part of the city where one could escape their sight. Only a faint light shined upon his armor as he walked towards it; his preset destination taking precedence over the chaos that ensued the city.

His chest piece bound in an abundance of dark leathers glimmered sharply in the storm. The lightweight metal accents piercing the night’s façade. The only source of light beckoned from the Guilds Castle up ahead. The window panes on either side of him brought only creeping darkness.

The boots seemed to breathe, as the rain parted from their embrace with each step. While the cloak danced with the slow sway of the wind, its black cherry color nearly made the rain appear black tears as they fell off it. Even the debris off the gravel spiraled in an updraft, a near grasp at the cloak itself.

Lightning flashed violently in the distance, and for an instant the war that consumed the city’s soul, showed their scars. Vile gashes ran like veins through the transient buildings, and the terraces along the rooftops had shattered palisades. Within a moment they vanished to hide back in the darkness of the night. Walking opposite his path, a being shrouded head to boot in a grey ragged garb, slowly passed. A Deathwalker. His head kept low as he walked by, but elderly presence is not masked well by just a garb. His time has passed him by.

“You shall walk again.” Is what he was taught from the beginning. For him twenty-six cycles came and went before he found his identity. And today that identity would come to life. “Heed the call of the voice, the lifeless will never reap what we sow.” One is born a Deathwalker, and remains as such until one finds their path in life. Some found their calling as early as eighteen cycles, others as late as seventy-nine.

For an unfortunate few, some entered and exited life never finding their purpose or their true identity. They wandered the streets ‘lifeless.’ The ceremony of rebirth had been a tradition since the dawn of the first Andescions. The ‘omega apocalypse,’ some called it. For that creature maybe. However, on this day, it would be a new stage of alpha. Today would be the first day he would truly be himself. Today would bring about change long needed.

The lights of the scene around him blurred to the background, the war had taken its toll, but today it mattered for naught. His alpha stage about to begin, in rhythm with the cadence of the rain. With every part of the bitter past to erase, a worthy price to begin anew. Today ‘he’ would die, all he was, gone… to emerge reborn as what he chooses to be. For him, the decision was made long ago. For what becomes of this ultimatum however… was up for the winds to decide.

He pulled the cowl of his cloak tighter over his head, the dust mask styled after his cloak hid most his features, but to all, he was still marked ‘lifeless’. Branded at his first birth, the mark of the Deathwalker was tattooed into the dorsum of his left hand. A constant reminder of what you are. Deathwalkers were the ones that had yet to be born again under the name of their choosing, as is tradition in Andescion. Today would be the end of lifelessness, for today he would be born again anew. “For death is just the beginning.”

Title: The working title for this novel is Book I: Mark of the Deathwalker. I am in the midst of building the skeleton for a six book series. Writing and world-building simultaneously.

Genre: Pagan / Fantasy styled lore

Age Range: Young Adult - Adult

Word Count: 622 in the sample. My project so far is well over 50,000 words.

Author Name: My pen name is Steve Deltanis, but my real name is Steve Giordano.

Why a good fit?: I believe my writing style offers an emersive atmosphere for people to escape to. I spend an incredible amount of time building my world so others may be absorbed into it as well.

The hook: The first chapter sets the stage quite vividly for what is in store over the journey at hand. Told from the perspective of an unknown character, the reader will see into the eyes of the perspective chapters to follow.

Synopsis: The overall journey is about a father trying to cure his daughter's terminal illness. There is an intricate weave of story that evolves around this, and this book follows the lives of all involved. For all decisions have consequences.

Target Audience: Young adult, adult readers of grounded fantasy lore. Gamers of all kinds will find themselves identifying with these characters as well.

My Bio: I grew up on Long Island, New York. Spending many years of my life delving into various writing forms, from composing music, and symphonic scores, to experimenting with poetry and screenplay writing. It wasn't until two years ago that I discovered where my writing would come to full potential. Starting this book has been an incredible journey. Exhaustive, frustrating, filled with moments of despair - while so emotionally rewarding and immersive that it has been impossible to stop the project as it evolves around me.

Platform: TBD

Education: I am currently working on my MA in Industrial Organization Psychology.

Experience: I have a few poems published in a school magazine, and I wrote a full length screenplay that placed top 10 in the NYSC. Other than that, the past two years have been filled with working full time, school full time, and developing this series project.

Personality: INFJ, and extremely high in extraversion.

Hobbies: Rock climbing, writing, music.

Hometown: Long Island, New York.

Age: 30