My writing is my precious 'gift' to myself and my friends. I enjoy writing just as much as I enjoy a beautiful sunset. There is just something fulfilling about writing all those feelings that you have cooped up inside of you and not being scrutinized for it.
I am a serious Fantasy writer, or at least I like to think so. Right now, I am working on a piece that is set around a world spliced in to many peicies by a desert. Two elves go out on a quest to seek a treasure but only stumble across big-time trouble. A set of guantlets that are possessed, one by an evil spirit and one by a good spirit. Mylryt, the girl with the good gauntlet, has to lead a war against her best friend, Nanyna who is possessed by an evil time witch called Xantha. Mythryt is followed around by these two massive wolves that are like ghosts, they talk to her and only a few elves can see them. She befriends a dark elf prince with a quacky mother who is empress of a massive desert realm. ^_^ I am stuck at the beginning of their quest to unite the kingdoms. I introduced a drunken mage that can barely cast magic because he is always drunk, and very intimidating warrior that is always breaking up fights between the mage (Who is also perverted) and Mylryt. (He keeps on grabbing her and making inapropriate guestures).
I can't finish it because no one is willing to look at it. We are our harshest critics and if I listen to myself grumble about how terrible it is, I might miss out on something. If your on the outside looking in, you see more details. I have been working on this mess for about eh...a year and a half maybe. But I keep dropping it for months at a time and coming back to it...
I have my inspirational novelists though. Meredith Ann Pierce and Ursula LeGuin play a big part in getting me into the mood. I love the Darkangel trilogy because it is so dark and very odd. I need to be in a certain mood to write certain stories. If I cannot grasp that mood then I can't write. Books help me do that-so does music.
I have written my fair share of Fanfictions and I am still doing it. I guess it helps me get over the temptation of mimicking anything that Tolkien has written.
~~Daegwenn
[ April 20, 2002: Message edited by: Daegwenn ]
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"And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—Riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair"
Highwayman
Alfred Noyes
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