Pragamore Chronicles

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Sneek Peeks - Book One

Sneek Peeks - Book Two

Finding the Great Oak

Sneek Peeks-I, Gnome

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Earnest Lawson

Tammy Barr

Terry O. Barr

Bridget Connelius

Christmas

Christmas -State of Mind

The Jingle Bell

The Fifth Season

Silent Witness

When Light Faded

Revelation

Of Truth & Fiction

Shade of the Sycamore

Shades of the Sycamore -

Fading Memories

Faded Memories

To My Hazel Eyes

Little To Say

Fantasy

Pandahar

The Guardian Angel

Observations

C Coves Winter Scape

Old Plank Stone

Remember

Times Blessing

Ode to the Port-a-Potty

 
           If you take time
           to read these lines
           and have a faith
           past those who are blind,
           then you are placed
           above the rest
           and still want to believe
           in the dragon's breath.

           For magic was stifled
           at Merlin's end,
           but oft returns
           every now and then.
           But never to those
           who've paid the cost
           as time waxed on
           and youth was lost.

           "It is still here!"
           shout those who are aware,
           and faeries still visit
           only those who care,
           and sprites still look
           to find new friends,
           and elves always return
           at every year's end. . .
          

     One of the most interesting things about being a writer is not only figuring out what to write, but also how to write it in a way that would make the reader turn the page.  My father, the late Russell T. Williamson, was a master storyteller.  The way he spun his stories around the campfires of my past etched in my memories things I will never forget.
     I was born on April 22nd, 1945, to a young couple in Memphis, Tennessee.  We soon moved from So. Pauline to a little place on Willow Creek just south of Memphis.  At that time, money was scarce for our family and the 'baby boomers' were just budding into existance.  My father was a good part Native American of the Pawnee persuasion I am told.  Connie, my wife, has spent many long hours studying this genealogical question mark.  Some of her studies have actually pointed her to Kansas with the names Two Shirts and Two Chiefs.                 
     Although my mother, Dorothy, was English and Scottish, my father held fast to his Indian traits.  the love of the woods, freedom, and nature were some of his strongest I do believe.  These were surpassed only by the love he held for his family.  I have one brother, Ronald and two sisters, Sandra and Tammy.  Through his guidance, we were taught to love and respect every aspect of life.  Because of this, and my wife's understanding, I have spent countless hours in the woods and on the waters.  I've seen a number of things that would be, at least for me, hard to explain.  It is because of these things that I hold a deep interest in the world of the mystical unknown.  Some would call this fantasy or fiction, but a great many others would not.
     Because I was raised a Christian, some of my friends just tend to scratch their heads and smile at my studies.  Others are clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea of witches, wizards, and the lot.  This, I might add, is a feeling I do not totally ignore.  I was somewhat pleased the Lord of the Rings finally made it to the silver screen.  Tolkien introduced the wizard Gandolf Stormcrow to the world as a 'white' wizard.  That woke some of us up to an unfimiliar corner of English folklore, and a completely different side of the coin.  You see, according to the English, witches and wizards are more often good than evil.  They 'balance' the scales and hold Evil in check in our world of fantasy.  
     As for me, I retired from Bell South in the year 2000 after over thirty years with the company.  I've seen it go from Southern Bell and AT&T, to South Central Bell, then to Bell South, and finally, back to AT&T again.  My writing passion then took a drastic turn to full length fantasy novels.  I have never seen a dragon, nor have I ever had the pleasure of swapping stories with the fae people.  I have, however, talked to a few rational people who have (according to them).  My younger sister, Tammy, and her husband, Terry Barr, have also been bitten by this mythical bug.  I might add, somewhat worse than myself.  Terry, being a Tolkien expert, has succeeded in fanning the flames of my unyielding curiosity...
     In saying all this, I would only submit to you that this world of ours is held together by positive and negative forces alike.  Although I tend to ignore this, I know there is no good on this earth without the uncanny presence of Evil looming in the nearby shadows.  Thus, there are some entities in this world of ours that we tend to ignore, or simply don't understand.  Of all those people who have claimed to have seen these beings, some have called them angels, while others have used the terms, faeries or spirits.  Of those very few that I have witnessed, I will say little of.  To do so, I would first want to understand...  I simply don't.  I will, however, keep an open mind and an unyielding curiosity on the subject of Fantasy...
     
        

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