Yesterday I started sorting through old papers. Not just sorting through - transcribing the crazy interesting writings onto the computer. Lots of work. *wipes brow*
You know, when we read through our old writings, what we often realize and say about it is how horrible they were. But that's only half the story. What I most often see is how much potential is packed there too. Sure it's cliche; sure the grammar is unacceptable; sure there's no style. But there's the idea. There's the effort. There's the memory of the energy you had and the joy you put into it and the blood, sweat, and tears.
Thinks about it. In five years you may look back on your writing now and think it's horrible. Right? But it's not going to stop you. You know you'll just keep getting better.
Comparing a ten-year-old's first draft to a twenty-year-old's fully edited and finished novel is no comparison.
Remember.
But let's get to the main point now before this talk gets too far or philosophical.
I'm about to show off snippets of my numerous unfinished stories. Most of them were written when I was thirteen and fourteen. Enjoy. Laugh as much as you want. Or if you choose to be impressed it's totally fine too. xD
I never wrote the full thing but I wrote clips and the basic plat is this:
The tribe of the ancient Crow people guard the talisman that protects the entire kingdom. But the power-hungry ruler, Lord Eberoth, sends his men to find it and bring it to him. When they succeed, the Crow elder's granddaughter, Ebony, is tasked with getting it back. A wild chase and game of stealing ensues - especially when the talisman falls in the hands of some rebels.
What I loved about this story was how polite everyone was. Even when Ebony and Talin and Rogan would have murdered each other over the talisman they were just so INCREDIBLY POLITE.
"Sir," the young man saluted as he bowed. "You have summoned me?"
"Yes, I have, Talin," the King of Durin, Lord Eberoth, replied. "For a very important purpose."
"I have, as you well may know, always been intrigued by the ancient lores and myths. I have been a great collector and scholar, but one thing remains a mystery. The people of Crow."
"I understood this was merely a story, Sir."
"Yes, well, I always believed the stories, young Talin. I am sending people to investigate. However, you will have a very special assignment."
"I am yours to commend, Sir."
"Yes, I can see that. Before we go further, I understand, you are of marrigable age?"
"Sir, you understand correctly," he replied.
"Well, if you succeed, I will be honored to make you a son of mine, Talin, and to give you the hand of one of my daughters. You are a great soldier and loyalty is your mark."
"However, before you say anything, understand I am also sending Rogan. You will work seperately, and in competition. The one who succeeds will be rewarded. The other - well, I am sure the other will have already received his due from his rival."
Talin ground his teeth while the King spoke, but said, "I am honored, Sir, and I will not fail you."
"Don't thank me, Talin. When we are done I will be thanking the successful one. Besides, I have many children to spare and daughters in plenty. What is one to give away?"
"Yes. What are sons for but to do your will without pay? And what are daughters for but to pay other men to do you will aswell? Remember this Talin. Every man for himself."
"Sir." He saluted, bowed, and turned.
Rogan entered as Talin left, and they both bowed and saluted each other formally, but their eyes spoke murder.
The backstory goes like this:
The mc's great-grandfather was an incredibly disagreeable fellow and once upon a time a grouchy sorceress put a curse on his family that forever after they would all be extremely disagreeable and everyone would hate them. The great-grandfather didn't tell anyone. But the mc finds out and sets out on a quest to find the sorceress and reverse the curse/spell. Along the way she's joined by others on a similar quest. (These included a troll, a dragon, and a chicken. The troll used to be a very grumpy farmer who allowed no one to trespass on his property so the sorceress made him a troll to forever live under his bridge and guard it against all travelers. The dragon was a very vain. flirty young prince who annoyed the sorceress so much that she turned him into a beastly dragon. And the chicken was a knight who was too scared to help the sorceress so she turned him into a chicken forever.)
"Where's Jonah!?" my father, Elias Clodney, demanded at breakfast at 7 o'clock.
"Asleep, where else?" Doreen, my older sister, says... She's really, really prim, and her lips are always a flaming bright red (from lipstick of course) which she seems to pinch together all the time, making them look really small. She never smiles and she's very annoying.
"Jonah!" my father yells, though everyone knows he won't hear. "Come down this instant!" Everyone knows he wouldn't obey even if he could.
"Let him be," my Granny says. "He's a lazy bum. Don't bother."
My father bangs a fist on the table, rattling all the cups. He always does that when he's angry.
"He's sixteen for goodness' sake!" he grumbles.
My mom enters the breakfast nook - a huge breakfast nook, by the way - still wearing her nightgown with a robe thrown over. She runs a hand through her bright red hair, which is a dreadful mess, and yawns.
"What's for breakfast?" she says.
Ross, our servant who acts as a waiter, bows slightly. "Shepard's pie, with broccoli, hash brown, bacon, pasta and sauce, karelian pies, and chicken soup." He looks very nervous.
"WHAT?!" my mom seems to wake up finally. "AGAIN?!"
"Well. ma'am, there wasn't - I didn't - the cook - you didn't - you said -" Ross tries to explain.
"Oh, shut up," my mom snaps. "You're fired."
"No buts, you pathetic quivering piece of -" she gingerly picks up a green leaf from the salad bowl "- lettuce!" she finishes. "That's final. Now get this ridiculous breakfast out of here, and bring me something real to eat!"
"But you just fired him," I say drily, "He doesn't work for you anymore."
Ross grabs the bowl of pasta, and starts to leave, but my Granny says, "How dare you, young man! I haven't even started yet!"
Ross puts the bowl back down and looks helplessly back and forth between us.
"Just get out!" my father rumbles, clearly furious.
Ross scurries from the room.
"Pathetic," sniffs Doreen, "Like the broccoli." The broccoli is overcooked and mushy.
I glare at her. I pick one with my fingers and drop it in my mouth.
"Now," my father looks at my mom, glowering, "where do you plan to get another waiter?"
"Hmm," my mom replies carelessly, "we'll just hire someone else."
"You seem to forget," my Granny puts in, "that we were without a waiter for three months because no one in town would take the job. We only got Ross because he was new around here - came in a week ago. And now, he's already gone."
My mom shrugs. "Oh well, you'll think of something," she looks at my father and smiles like little girl.
"No one will the job for all the wealth of Goldasheen," Doreen says, prickly.
In this sci-fi tale, the fate of the world will be determined by one conflict. The conflict between twenty young people - all super powered, ten of them bad, ten of them good. And they aren't all 100% bad or 100% good. There are traitors and there are those who mend.
Spoiler: they all die at the end. Everyone of them is dead by the time the story finishes.
I actually contemplated leaving the ending so open that no one will know if the mc actually survived or not, but yes, it's pretty painful.
The Kin are the ten good guys, and the Kith are the ten bad guys.
Sage had been gone for a week.
The Kin ceased fighting for a short while and mourned her, but they couldn't sit still for long.
One week later, Muriel called for a vote.
Muriel knew who would be chosen. She called for the other five and after a discussion, they all voted.
When Ariel cam in the next morning, she found everyone sitting around, waiting.
"What is it?" she said. They all looked at Muriel.
Muriel took her by the arm and led her to a corner.
"Ariel, Sage is gone, and we need to choose our next commander."
"Oh, good," Ariel looked around. "I'm voting for you."
"No, Ariel," Muriel smiled. "I'll never be commander. I'm still the advisor, you know."
"But Muriel, you're so good at it."
Muriel shook her head. Ariel sighed.
"We've voted you, Ariel."
"What?" Ariel looked stricken.
"We've all voted. We choose you."
"No, Muriel," Ariel took a step back. "Not me. I killed Jackson. And because of my inefficiency Sage is dead. I was her Second, Muriel, and I failed. I can't be the First."
Muriel looked at the others.
"We believe in you. We know you can do it. You've been forgived for Jackson's death. And Sage knew what she was doing when she chose you. Be the First, Ariel, for their sake. For Jackson, for Sage, for JD."
Ariel looked at the floor. She wouldn't raise her head for a long time.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Travis.
"Ariel, you're my commander." Then he knelt on one knee.
"No," she whispered. "I can't do it."
"You can," he said, looking up. "Because we'll be with you all the way. We're friends Ariel, through and through."
Ariel looked at all of them. She took a step forward.
"You've all decided?"
They nodded.
"All of us," Ellyn said.
"Even though," Ariel began.
"Yes," Wallace replied, "you're forgiven. The past is past. It doesn't matter anymore. It's the future that counts."
Ariel took a deep breath. She closed her eyes.
"All right," she said, opening them, "I'll be your commander."
I created this princess when I was twelve. She still lives in my mind. Her story has evolved, and grown, and changed as I have over the past three years. But she still lives. Who knows what she will yet become?
I've written so many versions of her, and I've told stories to myself about her family - her children, her grandchildren, her kingdom, her ancestors. She lives in Arland, and the main idea of the whole thing was that she - a princess with everything she could have wanted, became an outlaw, and had everything stripped away from her. The snippet I'm giving you is on version of the tale.
"They've broken into the castle!" the screams ring in my ears.
I run, holding up my breezy broad skirts as I fly through the halls. Everyone is running in the opposite direction. Away, away from the front gates. But I'm not. I'm running towards it.
Because I know my father will be there.
I dash down some stairs, and onto a balcony overlooking the large room that faces the halls beyond which the gates lie. Underneath this balcony is the way to the throne room.
He's standing tall and resolute in the middle of the huge open room, sword in hand. He has his body guards with him, as well as extra men, soldiers, and generals. I recognize my father's best friend, Cyrus, and his son, Sylvanus.
Sylvanus has always been on of my best friends.
My father turns to see me, standing here and leaning over the rail.
"Run Cassandra!" he calls.
"NO!" I yell, "I will see this through!"
My father says I have always been every inch a queen. As beautiful, as brave, as stubborn, as regal as anyone who ever was in line for the throne.
"Take her away!" I hear him order someone. I turn to see guards on the balcony moving towards me.
"Get her away from here! Take her to safety! Hide! Now!" he is angry. And well he should be.
"No!" I yell. I want to run from the guards, but there are four of them, blocking my exits. I can't escape them all.
"Sylvanus!" I cry in one last effort. He looks at me, his expression saying he can't do anything. And he gestures for me to go.
The guards grab me, pry me off the rail, and usher me off the balcony. Away. Away from the front. Back to safety.
Note: All images except the first one come from Pinterest.
This was only a fraction of what I have :D So let me know if you like these and if you want more :D
So what did you think of my unfinished tales?
Would you be interested to have more?
