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Of words and worlds… June 4, 2008

Posted by phoenixaeon in wannabe writer.
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On the subject of the call of different worlds, here is a post from my very first blog. And yes, it’s awful, but this was six years/16 years ago, before I really fell to the writing bug and began taking it seriously:

( 9.8.02 ) Ally
Oh well. Don’t you just hate it when something happens and you all of a sudden pick something up you started ten years ago with the new revived vigour of ‘I *must* do this to prove to myself I am not worthless’? Well, if you don’t I surely do. Cos that’s just what has happened to me.
I was reading a short story the other night, and it hit something in that stupid grey mass called a brain that caused me to think the ‘Hey, I can do this, and I’ve had this idea for the last ten years that I just haven’t expanded on’. So, I went and dug out this old, battered, orange envelope folder that housed the beginnings of a world in the making. There were ideas for characters, creatures, and the vague inkling of a story. So, biting off more than I could chew, I’ve been sat round for the last day trying to work out how I could make this thing work, but getting nowhere as fast as dead dog. Hmph. Thing is, I know if I put my mind to it, I could probably get something out of it, but I just feel so dejected and apathetic at the mo. Anyways, here’s a little bit of something I wrote for this story ten years ago, lemme know what you think…..

Once again, alien dialogue caressed her tongue, stimulating her glands to taste it’s utterance.
Savouring the unspoken words, Altharien mastered her fear-strangled vocal chords to delight the parched air with the haunting ululation that danced in her throat. Unaware that she was now on her feet Altharien stood over the trickling lines of water facing the black trees. Directing her voice, she versed the unknown chant to the trees.
As she sang, the words took on ghostly forms in the air before her. The inch tall, brown and green firefly words cavorted and pirouetted gracefully to the trees. Embracing the wood, their fire burned brightly before fusing with the blackened bark. Gradually the words faded from Althariens song, each one taking shape and skipping to the refuge of the trees. She stood watching, quietly contemplating the dance of the fireflies.

Eeps! How bad is that? Not only the writing, but the punctuation, grammar and sentence structure! Yikes! I would like to think that my writing style has progressed since then!

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