Addendum

Just because something doesn't get much current discussion doesn't mean it can't curse you. This is general life advice.

Ancient Fashion

People used to talk about pyramids all the time. They wouldn't shut up. Then they stopped, but then they started again, but now nobody talks about pyramids. Don't be fooled, though. They still visit the silly things. From this I conclude the popularity of pyramids is perennial. The lesson here is that fashion applies to fashion itself; pyramids are fashionable, but talking about how fashionable they are is not. Sometimes Stonehenge is on top, sometimes this, sometimes that. As for the significance, I dunno. Keep it in mind. Someday the rewards could be staggering.

Addender

Gothic can just be kothic. We don't need to get complicated here.

Addendum

Wait, no, that's what you call quinine. How about the Ankwin style? That'll do it.

How to Discuss Architecture in Fantasy

Everybody only cares about Queen Anne, and if your setting has a Queen Anne, people probably built different stuff during her reign. What to do? Give it a fun fantasy label such as qui'nan. Blam!

A Lamentable Rejection

The officials presented their recommendation. While both plans for the new palace appeared to them both feasible and admirable, one far exceeded the other in excellence.
"Then we shall have the worse one."
The decision befuddled the officials involved, those not involved, and the entire cloud of courtiers and functionaries, to say nothing of the architects themselves, who had been permitted to hear the conference. Perceiving the sovereign to be in a calm and even mood, the officials begged for a few more words that they might understand the decision.
The emperor made them be silent. "Say nothing more about it. We have our instructions. The creator of the better plans, is he here? He is to leave, unaccompanied."
The sovereigns' words added to the general bafflement, but what could be done? The officials bowed and the discouraged architect backed out of the audience chamber. Downcast as he was, he did not notice, standing before the great portal to the palace, the herald of the great god, not till that luminary spoke.
"You, architect. You are recommended by the only human we heed as the candidate best suited for the work. Come with me now to beginning planning the new heaven." Saying that, the architect was taken away, and when he returned, he held wondrous treasures.
Finis

Addendum

Actually those all lead to mechs. Pranked!

Turning Points in History to Consider for Alt History

Stamford Bridge
Jugurthine War
Ferdinand and Isabella (make both women)
Alexander the Great (dies earlier)
Alexander the Great (dies later)
Alexander the Great (still alive)
Isaac Newton (discovers anti-gravity; leads to mechs)
Christopher Marlowe (wins bar fight, becomes emperor)
Pyramids (much bigger; aliens show up)

Fantasy Architecture

You've seen sky castles and underground fortresses, but have you ever seen a stronghold . . . ON THE GROUND? Well? Why aren't you looking at me?

This One Is for Charles III

"How does it feel to have another temple designed by you go up? Getting tired of it?"
lenWalis shook his head. "Not of buildings, because I know they will see use. And to be entrusted with something so costly cannot help but tickle my pride. For there is no question of flippancy, either in the backers or the builders. I can only respond to that with all my ability." It was in that way that lenWalis always responded to such questions, and never yet did he lie. He left the site feeling the pleasing weight of a serious task, an awareness that what he did had meaning for others.
"Look out!"
He never saw the laden wagon coming.

"Is he coming around?"
lenWalis opened his eyes and knew wonder. Where else could he be but the realm of some god whose temple he had built? Strange buildings unsuitable for human occupation rose to trouble the clouds, and around him were such noise and lights as none but the gods could comprehend. He tried to sit up that he might abase himself. The figures around him, however, looked on him with the curious eyes of men and women rather than the knowing gazes of gods.
"He's alive, but who is he?"
The concerned passersby had no idea that somewhere nearby, a short commute away in an upscale suburb, a self-taught magician debated with himself how likely that the ritual to summon a hero from another world to save his had succeeded. Not exactly in those terms, though. "Man, I sure hope I grabbed somebody who can come up something other than these ****-*** ****** piles of sun-hardened ***-**** with their ****** ****-loads of ************ concrete that break down like overused *********** used to *********** ************ after thirty ****-covered years, like what the ********. Seriously, the ****** suicide rate must triple for any ********** ************ unlucky enough to get a job in those, and they don't even have to look at them for most of their **********, ************ working days." And that hope was not in vain.
Finis

The Sideways Tower

When they sent me to serve in the Hospital of the Sideways Tower, they said I might hear some interesting stories. I don't think my brothers meant to deceive. They simply didn't realize that almost none of those concerned had any intention of talking about the problems that sent them there.
That was all referring to those who came for the peculiar feature, of course. The normal travelers and denizens of scattered villages came and went too. They made up most of our traffic. I was no more or less busy there than I would have been at any of our other hospitals. The stories I heard were no more or less common or interesting, either.
Indeed, the first sign of someone in need of the special service was usually a reluctance to talk at all. A typical supplicant, if I cast my mind back, picked his way past the usual crowd and the servants over to me, the obvious priest. "I, uh, heard . . . that is, I was given to understand . . ." That was what one particular man I remember mumbled, but most of them brought it up in a similar manner.
I inclined my head toward the side door and led the way. A few decided not to follow me, but the usual type didn't back down so easily. It might have saved a lot of trouble for them if their personalities had allowed them to. I walked over to the base, or rather the right, of the great non-tower and waited by the door with my keys out. When the supplicant caught up, I confirmed the situation.
"Do you desire to be comforted? The relief will be only for your heart. Nothing will change in your material circumstances." I don't recall a single person turning back there. I held up the tower ring and removed one of the two keys. "This is the external key. The other is the internal. Take that one and return it to me at the exit." I unlocked the door, prayed for the supplicant's success, and locked the door behind the entrant.
For me, the walk over to what should have been the top of the tower, would have been if the builders had realized their intentions, made for a pleasant evening stroll. What it meant for the supplicant, who knows? They didn't like to talk about it. I waited, took back the key, and led them back. They rarely seemed happy, but they usually stopped mumbling and looking at their feet. I suppose I could have felt superior to them because I had never failed a great enterprise, or inferior because I had never attempted one, but I had been called, and I was content.
Finis