Nathan Hall (WIP A Fort in Winter)
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nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Nathan Hall (WIP A Fort in Winter)
@nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
530 followers 280 following 1.4K posts
He/him. Writer, editor, Wheel of Time lover. SPFBO 8 Semi-finalist.
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nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Our pets. Bmo and Lemongrab. One of them likes his own space. The other...not so much.
Bmo, a grey and white cat, cuddled obnoxiously against my face. Lemongrab, our bearded dragon, peeks judgmentally from his hide.
November 25, 2025 at 5:19 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Pet sitting for my brother. I am this dog's favorite person. Here is how much space he has given me the entire week so far.
Oliver, a terrier, fills the whole screen with his face.
November 25, 2025 at 5:16 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
In pretty dire straits. $500 worth. Will work for, borrow, etc., money in the next couple days. Anything helps get us closer to where we need

PayPal does not work right now. Payment options are below. Reach out if you want editing done, art or short stories commissioned, etc.
$515 in rent overdue. Deadline is Sunday night. Zelle qr code. Cashapp qr code. $HolmeVick Venmo qr code. @Victoria-Anderson-36885
November 14, 2025 at 11:01 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Jokerless Balatro was one of the hardest things I've done in any video game. Holy crap.
A list of challenges in Balatro. 20 out of 20 completed. Including the last, Jokerless.
October 8, 2025 at 6:01 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
The intensely personal back burner WIP strikes again.
Sometimes, at my least charitable, I hope that all we find is the same harm or comfort we gave others. Most of the time I just hope that whatever is next, even if it is nothing, is gentle.
September 12, 2025 at 12:17 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Apropos of nothing, I was reminded of this snippet I wrote for an early progress WIP called The Withering Place.

Draft 0 as in I wrote much of this on my phone on the bus lol. But fitting.
This is a place where hope withers. Where dignity dies. No one would be here, and no one would leave anyone they gave a fuck about here. Not if they had a choice. And that’s the real bitch of it. This place feeds off those without a choice. People like my dad. Looking at this place is enough to bring back Hamlet like a heavy breakfast the morning after hard drinking. The only reason not to just lay down and die is the fear of what might come next. That uncertainty has kept me up enough nights to understand the bleak eyes in the hopeless faces of neglected old timers sunk into padded chairs that somehow provided no rest. A lot of these people clung to this world, despite being abandoned by it, because they aren’t sure what world awaits them. Not my dad, though. My dad held on like he knew exactly what was waiting for him on the other side.
September 5, 2025 at 4:42 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
The opening pages of chapter two of A Fort in Winter!

Early draft, liable to change, yadda yadda. Enjoy!
Ten years ago, a fire had burned down a quarter of Ymrit. I still remembered the city awash in riotous light, bright in the hours before dawn, warm in midwinter. Smoke had poisoned the entire sky and turned the clouds coal-black, scoured the air until the grit coated me. My Page’s livery had needed to be burned because the stain and smell wouldn’t wash out. I had been assigned as a messenger, telling my small portion of the thousands of families that they had to flee because we were going to pull their buildings down as a desperate firebreak. I’d helped carry clothes and heirlooms and children’s toys and a thousand other things that those evacuating couldn’t bear to part with. All the while the fire grew over and around the shapes of the doomed buildings, until finally it was passed down that there was no more time. Exhausted to the point of numbness, I’d stumbled along the line of fire watch, ladling water from buckets for them to drink as they hacked and tore down buildings along entire streets. A few buildings had been abandoned but hadn’t been pulled down in time, though thankfully the effort had stemmed the worst fire in centuries and kept more from dying or losing their homes. Weeks later, some still stood, too damaged to be inhabited, too intact to be a priority when ten thousand other buildings needed dealt with. The area had been cordoned off, but that hadn’t stopped me and a few other young Pages from sneaking in one afternoon after finishing official duties out in the city. It had been an eerie sight. Houses where people had lived only a few weeks before, still furnished and decorated. Everything from wardrobes to pots and pans remained. And yet they were mere shells, like the soul had gone straight out of them. A house abandoned sits differently in the mind than one that’s merely empty. Even the most-intact, merely scorched by the fire and smeared in soot, had been ruined beyond saving by the mere rumor of the fire. After one of us almost fell through a floor whose supports had been charred away, we snuck sheepishly back out. The Cantors must have sniffed us out; after a long lecture, we were set to scrub dishes for weeks. I still caught the acrid tinge of smoke once my hands had pruned for the final time. But even to this day, I remembered the haunting emptiness of those houses, their windows so like the eyes of those I’d failed to save. Vacant and dark and accusing. As I looked down at the body of the woman before the gates, as my trembling fingers clutched at my scarf as though to rip it free, I felt a lot like those evacuated buildings. Unchanged, yet hollowed out. Everything that made me the child who had explored those burned-out ruins had been taken. All that remained was the furniture, left to burn. And burn it did. Rage surged hot through my veins, scouring my insides. Every tendon caught, racing the flame along, and every hair sizzled. Every painful clench of my heart repeated a demand: Justice.
August 30, 2025 at 2:04 AM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
My wife has been mostly housebound due to panic and depression for a while now. So I take random pictures of whatever strikes me on my way to or from work to show her.

I'm no photographer and my phone camera is meh. But I like to think some turn out OK.
The sunrise shining gold through clouds. Taken from the sidewalk, with trees lining a grassy hill on one side. The moon peeking through clouds and trees. A bright sliver lighting the clouds like a cloak. The sun glaring from above treetops, casting long shadows. Taken from the sidewalk, with trees lining a grassy hill and a small park beyond.
August 22, 2025 at 12:33 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
My wife had just gotten Lemongrab, our beardie, when we got together. I quickly fell in love.

We got BMO while getting our other cat fixed. My wife convinced me that having another cat would allow them to entertain each other. As you see, that didn't happen. Scammed. He's not complaining.
Lemongrab, an orange bearded dragon, looks at me sassily while I take a picture. He's all pancakey, basking in a sunspot through the window on the brown carpet. My arm cradling a sleeping BMO, a grey and white cat who is incredibly photogenic.
August 22, 2025 at 2:01 AM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
My wife's. I can dm you any other info if you need.
My wife's venmo. @Victoria-Anderson-36885
August 17, 2025 at 11:01 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Btw I have the best, sweetest, most judgy, most sassy bearded dragon, in case you didn't know.
Lemongrab, my beardie, snuggled on me under a blanket. Napping happily. Lemongrab, my beardie, snuggled on me under a blanket. Judging us for taking pictures. Lemongrab, my beardie, looking up out of his hide. Judging us for putting him back in his tank when he was enjoying snuggles.
July 12, 2025 at 1:01 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
OK, I had a previous story idea about elemental magic.

Magic has historically been weak. Used for parlor tricks and entertainment. Suddenly, for an unknown reason, it grows many times more powerful, threatening a magic apocalypse in a world unaccustomed to wielding it responsibly.
Man with spiky windswept hair and headband, wearing a sleeveless vest over a v collar shirt and dark pants. His cape is checkered, and his boots curl at the toe and have bells. He's holding a wooden staff in one gloved hand, and his other is wreathed in flame. He's smiling, cocky.
June 22, 2025 at 10:45 AM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
If you see this, share a skeleton.

I might be using this in a fun deck.
Reassembling Skeleton A battered, half-formed skeleton warrior clothed in ragged remains of pirate gear, wielding a thick cutlass, rising from a dusty grave. Mana Cost 1B Type Creature – Skeleton Warrior Rarity Uncommon rules Text 1B: Return Reassembling Skeleton from your graveyard to the battlefield tapped. Flavor Text "They may show up with the wrong thigh bone or mandible, but they always show up." —Zul Ashur, lich lord Artist Austin Hsu
June 13, 2025 at 4:45 AM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Here are some pictures of the switch, on sale for $220 to anyone in the US!
Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom edition Switch. The box shows the casing and controller with gold and green geometric patterns. In the background is Link crouched on ancient cliffs above the clouds. Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom edition Switch. The back shows details of the console itself, with pictures of the casing and the screen and controllers. All contain gold and green patterns om white. The back of the Switch. The right joycon of the switch. Showokg off gold and white spiral patterns.
April 7, 2025 at 3:42 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
What perfect albums came out when you were 16?
10 Years: The Autumn Effect. Hummingbird drinking nectar from a flower mid flight. Hurt: Volume One. A black vinyl album with a worn leather look. Bordered in white vintage style decal lines. Evans Blue: The Melody and the Energetic Nature of Volume. A girl with butterfly wings sits in a jar.
March 19, 2025 at 7:54 PM
nathanhallwrites.bsky.social
Spotify Wrapped! No surprise Speech Patterns took top place. Big surprise they held the full top 5 songs though!
December 4, 2024 at 1:53 PM