Editing Libraries of Faerie (section)

==Depositories That Never Were==

===The wind library===
An entire canyon carved from solid stone, filled with whistling holes and fantastic whorls. A wind blows constantly through. Different sounds are made in different parts of the canyon by the wind whistling through the channels. If you walk through certain parts in a certain path at a certain speed, the changing sounds seem like voices, reading passages of books to you.

===The Sleeper's Library===
It is said that those minds are troubled over-much with the desire to learn, or the desire to know --and the two are different -- or the desire to create are given a change, a choice, at one single point in their life.

For some, this choice comes late in life, for others, while they are still infants.

This choice comes, fittingly, in their sleep.

The Librarian comes to them, in whatever form they expect the Librarian to take, and offers them this choice: come to the Library in their dreams, join the Library, and never again dream like a mortal, and never again have their mind be truly and completely their own... or don't.

In the countless ocean of time that has passed, none that the Librarian has given this choice to have denied the Library.

Once someone has chosen the Sleeper's Library, every night, in their sleep, they dream of a vast and endless library, with countless, impossibly large halls, and tiny, intimate studies.

Every book ever written can be found in this Sleeper's Library, and every book that someone within the Library has ever thought of writing can be found within the Library.

In fact, every thought a member of the Library ever has becomes part of the Library, written in some book, or scroll, for every other member of the Sleeper's Library to see, should they happen upon it.

Few members of the Library; however, know the architecture of the Sleeper's Library well enough to reliably seek out the thought-records of their fellows.

===The Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound===

If someone wanders within the deserts for nine days and nine nights, and one day beyond that, with only what food and water they can carry with them, they might find the Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound.

But, probably, instead, they will die.

If they live to see the sun rise on that tenth day, the Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound will appear. A great sandstorm suddenly erupts, so bad that it scours the skin, and blinds the eyes. When it fades, there is a great palace of glass, with large spires and elegant domes. It catches the light of the sun, and it holds it, so that it does not blind those you look upon it during the day, and stays bright enough to see by during the night.

Inside the Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound, it is a paradise. There are bookshelves made of glass, with thousands and thousands of panes of glass. Amid these beautiful bookshelves are flowing rivers of cold, clear water, and waterfalls of the same, and in the upper levels, pools of water, that during the day, are heated enough to bath in.

Those there is no food within the palace, and no where to sleep, or even sit and rest, there is no need. As long as someone drinks with sweet, cold water of the Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound, they need no food, nor sleep, nor rest, but their desire for this water is a near desperate thing. 

The time of those within the palace can be spent much better, by listening to the panes of glass, by dipping their fingers into the clear waters, and rubbing it upon a pane of glass, the words it contains a read aloud, in a voice like the hum of crystal.

One can stay within the Palace of Glass and Knowledge Unbound for as long as one wishes, but they will never see another living soul.

Once needs only walk out of the front gates of the palace to leave, but once they leave, they can never return.

While difficult, the walk out of the desert is much less dangerous for someone who has been within the palace, for, as long as some has tasted one drop of the palace's water, they will never be thirsty again.

===The Library of Sussurations===

In a far off land, some say Tibet, some say Peru, high on a windy plan, there exists a library that consists only of plants. It appears to be a field of small bushes and shrubs, once well tended but in now fallen into disarray. It is readily apparent to any who view it that there is some pattern to the plantings, but it is not so clear what that pattern is. The wisest of scholars will never see the pattern, because it is not there to be seen. It must be *heard* Everyday, at dawn and again at dusk, as the winds blow across the plain, the plants brush against themselves and each other. The soft rattlings and rustlings, when listened to carefully, reveal themselves as softly spoken words. The words are different in different parts of the garden. Sadly, the words no longer make sense, poorly pronounced and in random order. The plants need to be tended, watered and trimmed in a precise manner, in order to keep the articulation coherent and the knowledge of this techinique has died out or disappeared. Perhaps the secret techniques are contained within the library itself, but who can tell?

===The Library of the Pendulum===

Many of us have seen the pendulum exhibit in one science museum or another. You know the one, the two or three story balconied atrium with a pendulum swinging gently through an arc. There are often pegs on the floor for the pendulum to knock down, showing how far around the circle is has moved that day. We are told when we see the pendulum exhibit is that it demonstrates the rotation of the earth. This is the barest scratching at the truth.

On an isolated island in the Mediterranean there is proof that somebody, centuries ago had a far greater understanding of the truth behind these seemingly simplistic arcs than anyone alive today. Buried beneath the ruins of a temple to Athena there is a room in which a pendulum has been swinging for the entirety of those forgotten years. The room is spherical and has several entrance and observation points carefully placed around it. The pendulum itself swings from the center of the room, suspended from an ingenious system of wheels and swivels. This complicated system is necessary because the pendulum swings through arcs that shouldn't be possible, defying gravity as though there were a greater force pulling at it. This setup requires regular monitoring and this is done by a small group of individuals who also record the traceries of the pendulum. It is for the record of these traceries that this whole creation exists, for contained within the ancient patterns are strange markings and sigils. These patterns are slow to reveal themselves, and due to the less than perfect nature of the mechanism, there is a noticeable 'fuzziness' to the patterns revealed thus far. The people who maintain this strange library also maintain that the patterns are incomplete, and that more time, possibly several more centuries, will be required to reveal the depth of the message. Still, there is knowledge to be gained from what has been discovered thus far, and thus there will continue to be a group of peculiar scribes carefully tending the machinery and recording the wanderings of the pendulum.

===The Library of Paths Untaken===

The Library of Paths Untaken has two librarians, each with their own wing. The Keeper of Razor-Edged Tales, attends to the infinite tales of things that blissfully did not happen, and The Lady of Gentle Stories, maintains the countless stories of things that should have come to pass. 

The names are not formal, of course. Formality is not needed, and the wings are most often just referred to as the Keeper's Wing, and the Lady's Wing.


'''The Keeper's Wing'''

The Keeper of Razor-Edged Tales is an evil thing, who enjoys very much the tales of failures, violations, pains and horrors that surround him.

They are written in detail so perfect and a style so brilliantly painful, that it is obvious no mortal mind could have crafted them.

The Keeper is frustrated; however. No matter how well crafted, no matter how cunningly spun, his tales of rape, murder, fears, break-ups and genocide are not real.

The Axis did not win World War II, Manuel Dominguez did not cheat on his wife, Julius Caesar did not survive his assassination attempt, and Amelia L'Heureux did not get a back alley abortion. 

The fact that these things did not happen taunt him.


'''The Lady's Wing'''

The Lady of Gentle Stories is a far kinder creature than her counterpart. She wanders the halls and rooms of her wing, reading beautiful tales of love, victories, accomplishments and comforts. 

These stories are written in the same impossibly talented and engrossing quality as those in The Keeper's Wing.

The Lady; however, is also unhappy. Her heart aches, because regardless of how brilliantly written, regardless of how beautifully formed, her tales of marriages, births, successes, joys and peace are not real.

Martin Luther King, Jr. did not survive his assassination attempt, George Remich did not send out his manuscript, Henry Miller did not marry Anais Nin, and Amelia L'Heureux did not ask Martin Price to stay with her when it came time for him to leave.

These fact that these things did not happen torment her.

===The Library of Flowers===

There is a monastery that stands in Faerie, not far from the village of Wall. Those who are cloistered there were once great criminals and sinners, guilty of the worst crimes of imagination and dreams. 

The Folk punished them, sent them to the nameless monastery, and took their hands from them. Instead, they were given tools for their limbs – hoes and rakes, shovels for digging and shears for pruning. The monastic inmates spend their days in the vast gardens of their monastery, tending their crops. They grow not fruits, nor vegetables, nor roots, though.

They grow flowers. On each petal of the flowers they grow are words formed in the patterns of the flowers’ colors. The Folk have promised them that if they find the words to tell the tale of their sins, then they would be freed, their hands returned to them once more.

So the brothers and sisters of the nameless monastery toil by day in the gardens. They carefully tend their flowers, waiting for the buds to open so they might read what is writ there. Each season, they might find a petal or two of their tale, a phrase here, another there.

With their clumsy tools for hands, they carefully harvest each petal and save it for their redemption. Then they must look to the next season’s work, endlessly crossing and pollinating their flowers, seeking the words that will set them free…

===The Library of Extraordinary Gentlemen!===

Hidden, on a hidden mountaintop, on a hidden mountain, in a hidden country, on a forgotten continent, lies the Library of Extraordinary Gentlemen. At first glance it seems to be an ordinary library containing all the classical works of fiction. But when a book is opened the true nature of the library is revealed. In a puff of smoke the hero of the book will materialize in front of the opener, having, from his point of view, just been snatched from whatever he was doing on the page where the book was opened. Unfortunately, no one has yet figured out how to put a character back in his book, which is why the library is so well hidden.

===The Unfinished===

It was a section of the library I have never seen. It was unfinished. The half finished manuscripts were there lying in boxes, unpacked. Nothing here was complete. Some of the almost greatest works of the world lie here. Unfinished. Forgotten. Thrown away like discarded broken dreams. Or stopped by death. Or disease. Or poverty. Or self-doubt. Some folks just... grew up and became realists and let their world altering masterpieces fade into a distant bitter memory. Many manuscripts could have changed world history if completed, helped someone find true love, lie in long abandoned piles. Once in a lifetime insights or inspirations that could only be perfected by the author. Anyone else would just get a tantalizing glimpse of infinity or perfection. Brilliant revelations of untold importance, lost forever.

One graduate paper, if finished would have found the cure for AIDS. Another would have been the ultimate poem that could bring humanity to even the hardest serial killer. Another was an incomplete love letter to her true love, a love that would have been true and eternal, but instead was sitting all alone in a corner covered in cobwebs. Another was an unfinished patent application that could have reduced the cost of Solar Cells by 83%. There was a song that if completed could begin to heal the world. I saw a letter, that if sent, would have prevented a suicide. His own child's suicide. Why did they stop? Answers are not to be found in this section. Many do not even have names. They just sit here gathering dust and to slowly crumble away. 

I could have sworn I left something there... but I can't remember what or even how to get back.