Now I have some of the previous chapters and I was like wow, who knew so much history could be put in one single town, and the impact this town had on everyone was like....BOOOOOOOOM! A big Nuclear bomb, bright lights and trembling ground and intense heat and radiation and all, it was awesome and it left an impact on everyone that ever found it, including myself.

I wasn't even looking for this town, I don't know what I was looking for the be quite honnest. The lone traveller, trapped between a large imagination and a indestructible wall that was all too familiar to me. The internet is a large world, I wandered along on my own seeking refuge. And one day I stumbled upon a town gate, it said booksie on it and I was curious because large crowds seemed to be rushing in.

What was all the commotion about this small town, people of all races and origins rushing in, pushing each other aside at the regristration both at the entrance gate. Being the curious lad I am I got in line, whistling a beatles tune I waited patiently. Letting people push me aside until finally I came to the registration, thinking I had nothing else to lose I signed up.

They gave me an adress, taking the paper I folded it and placed it in my pocket. Thanking the gate keeper I walked into town, among the crowd but standing far from it, not really belonging with them. Many of them had been invited here, had been searching for this place for many years. I had simply stumbled upon it, no invitations.

As I began to explore I looked into the first house, each house had a name posted on it. Although I do not remember clearly the name, I seen a young woman busy at work at a antique typerwriter. I grinned at this, who the hell uses a typerwritter in this day an age? Ignoring that I looked at the wall, posted with several interresting poems.

But I was rushed, turning away I took out the paper and read my adress out loud, this town was so vast, how could I find my simple abode. All houses were the same in my eyes, small cubes with windows in the front, looking at the signpost I seen the town was seperated into different quadrants. My adress was in the fantasy district, heading on fantasy street I finally found my home.

It was like all others, opening the door hearing the familiar creak that comes from haunted houses in the b-rated scary movies, expecting a black cat to jump out and scare the living crap out of me. The room was empty, other than one desk at the opposite end of the room, with a typerwritter standing on it. I refused to use that antique, grabbing it I threw it out my window.

I then looked at a pile of paper, I guess I would write by hand. I already had a tale started, all I had to do was re-write it here, from the looks of the other houses if you published your work you might get commented on it, and I so deeply wanted to know what people thought of my work. And then I published the first chapter of my first story, The Legend Of Adonis.

It was more like a rough draft, I then awaited my comments. And I did get them, but they were not as good as I would have liked. My paragraphs were too bunched up and I put too many details, I was not put down by these however. I let them build me up, the person that said I put too many details became the best friend a guy could have, DarkFairy was her name and only now do I truly appreciate the brute honnesty.

Unfortunately I did not improve right away, I was stubborn at first and continued writting in the same fashion. I had a predictable plot, weakly constructed characters and... well, the list goes on. I am almost ashamed to say I wrote those stories, but without my moment of defeat I would not have reached the present moment I am at now.

I put aside my pet story, beginning a story of science fiction, I worked many stories for a while, always making the same mistakes. And then I came back to my original story, I desperately wanted people to like it. For the first time I read their criticism and took it in, using it to my advantage I made a new novel, The Legend of Adonis re-edited.

I conquered the clumping problem and tried to add some depth to my characters, and to a certain degree I succeeded. And I was glad, I wrote non stop revising all my chapters and trying to improve them, but that wall came again, stronger than ever as though it was a monster trying to crush me.

A whole year I did nothing, I locked myself in my new house and tried to figure things out. Until finally it was hopeless, I didn't even pack, I just walked out of my house and out of this beautiful town. I left for quite a while, trying to satisfy myself with towns of games and towns of forums, but none came close to Booksi and the impact it had on me.

Returning I knew if I returned in my old house I would be as depressed and hopeless as before, so I became someone new, Wobster. It was ironic that my new house was the one facing my own, so I could go from one to the other, but now I had a new mission. I had figured out why I could not finish any work, because I could not finish my first story.

I scrapped everything I knew about it and started from new, and this time I did it right, and this time I actually enjoyed writting. I felt immersed in the world I had created, and it payed off because DarkFairy commented on my story once again, and this time her comment was filled with approval. This time not only was I driven to write, I could not stop writting. I fought hard to derive from the typical storyline that would have been so easy to follow, and with each chapter came another great comment from DarkFairy.

And finally, two years in the working Adonis Chronicles was completed, the ending suprising even myself. So all this to say that Booksie has impacted my life greatly, this town filled with excited writers of every genre and style, people stopping to read my work. I even read other's work now, I may have arrived a straggler behind a large crowd but I feel at home now. I know not which generation I belong in, all I know is that Booksie is my home now and no one could tear me away from it.

Ps. I never would have finished my novel if it were not for you DarkFairy, I owe you everything and more, and if I ever get my book published I will do my best to begin paying off what I owe you. When everyone reads my book, remember that DarkFairy was the one that pushed me to write on, everyone should read her stories and poems because she is phenomenal, she makes this town a home to me( I don't know if that last statement makes sense, but it sounded good when I said it out loud, lol)

- Wobster/Qcontinu-