The Writer In Me

What do you all think?

Prologue: A Man, A mystery

“Dragons are now but extinct,” Master Trowburn explained. “T’was a mere twenty years ago they still bare the greatest warrior as a mere knee-buckling coward, excited the alluring poet with the most phenomenal of legendary tales, and maddened the businessman who, busily engrossed in increasing his stockholders’ pockets, bemoaned the disruption of his work when a dragon hunted its prey.
“Throughout our world history, the instigation of a dragon attack tended to inspire our greatest fear. No nation was immune, not even the practically invincible Andals, with their advanced weaponry. Advanced as they were, a dragon’s skin was near impenetrable. Little man had created could make but a mark on these ancient beasts.
“Few men in our history had killed dragons before twenty years ago. We know their legendary stories; your parents used to read them at night to you.” Some of the students laughed, reminiscing, entranced by their professor’s tale. “We name them Dragonslayers, a name, a label, a status meant to inspire the greatest of awe, of worship of the hero, the possibility in all of us to defeat our worst nightmares. Treven Lightheart slew the Jet-Black Lacrinian beast! Surely I can master my passions. Aponin Sten sliced The Insane One. Surely I can overcome my greatest fear. Danen Stevens drowned The Two-Tailed Beast – how he managed that was truly a feat, as we know. These men, no, these heroes, simple men, when pressed excelled beyond their means, inspired us to do better, to surpass.
“The tyranny of the Great Dragons over humanity forced us to exceed our potential, and create things never before imagined or even considered. A balance must be kept between success, overcoming trials, and the trials themselves. The trials kept us on our toes, forced us to think beyond the normal, to work harder for the smallest of gains. Now that the dragons are nearly extinct, what pushes us anymore? We slowly lose the value of our heroes. We begin to see a crumbling, a degradation into lustful passions, wasteful and useless time spent on mindless entertainment. We become fat, both physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. We have little to fight against, to push against, because our tyrant is gone.
“Thus we come to Curt Van Theen, truly a hero, a legendary figure, who, before the events of twenty-five years ago, the only man to have killed two Great Dragons! I can already see some of you reacting negatively. Hold your thoughts for just a moment. We’ll discuss him and the events of twenty-five years ago. Curt Van Theen, a man, a mystery.
“Is it too early to judge his deeds historically? We don’t know if he is even passed on yet. The mere fact he slew two Great Dragons places him above our other legends. The Dragons respected his presence. That is until he created the Dragonslayer weapon that easily wiped them out. Did he make life too easy for the rest of us? We’re at ease today. Sure we’re fighting amongst ourselves a lot. Andals gobble up land left and right. Nexim and Lexim both collapsed and now hardly resemble their historic might. Kyloon remains strong, but very corrupt and full of crime.
“The discussion I wish to have today is based on two questions. The first question is this. What impact did the Great Dragons have on societies in the known world? How much did their mere existence prop certain societies or cultures? Could some societies have existed as long as they have if Dragons were not around?
“The second question is this. What changed twenty years ago? How did Curt Van Theen’s actions change the world around us? Was it for the better or the worse? Finally, will we ever see him again?”
Some students chuckled. Hands immediately went up.
“Yes, Chris,” Master Trowburn said, pointing to a red-haired boy in the middle row.
“I don’t think we’ll see him again. He fled instead of staying to protect his home, his people.”
“Ah,” the Master replied, “are you implying that a hero greater than Treven Lightheart is a coward? Did his leaving negate everything he did previous, including the creation of a weapon that wiped out our tyrant overlords?”
The young boy thought it over. “Yes, because a hero should always be a hero. What priorities did he have? Where was the priority to protect his people?”
“Ah, but he was a retired officer, Chris. He did his duty. What more could he do, especially in his middle age, with a family? The young fight the wars, protect the homes of the middle aged who raise the next generation. Curt Van Theen destroyed two dragons in his youth. He then led one of the most successful lives, maybe too successful – that may be what drives the passions of those who view him less kindly, perhaps. Was he really a coward in his later years? Anyone want to tackle that? Yes, Thom.”
“No, Master,” Thom answered from the back row. “He was not a coward, for as you say, he gave us a world without dragons. How can that be a bad thing?”
“True, there are basically no dragons left. But have you noticed how quickly our world has degraded morally these past twenty years? Did the dragons keep us in line, or…”
“No, the dragons merely forced us to hide our moral indiscretions,” Sara replied. “We were always unclean.” Many students nodded their heads.

I began writing this new untitled story not too long ago, but I have been so busy with other, less important, and more wasteful, writing that I have not had the time to put in the proper concentration on writing a story. Mayhap I won’t write much more in my life than what I did back in my high school days.

Woohoo, I wrote the first two paragraphs of my new story.

I know, took me a while, seeing that I’ve had this story in mind for almost a whole year. But I’ve been busy. In any case, these are the first two paragraphs. For whoever is possibly reading this blog (heh, not many at all these days), what do you think?

“Dragons are now but extinct,” Master Trowburn explained. “T’was a mere twenty years ago they still bare the greatest warrior as a mere knee-buckling coward, excited the alluring poet with the most phenomenal of legendary tales, and maddened the businessman who, busily engrossed in increasing his stockholders’ pockets, bemoaned the disruption of his work when a dragon hunted its prey.
“Throughout our world history, the instigation of a dragon attack tended to inspire our greatest fear. No nation was immune, not even the practically invincible Andals, with their advanced weaponry. Advanced as they were, a dragon’s skin was impenetrable. Nothing man had created could make but a mark on these ancient beasts.

I’ve been mulling around a new story, and I think I have a rough plan for a starting point. Tell me what y’all (the few of you who actually read this blog) think about this as a way to start the story. Also, please ask any questions about the plot or characters.

The story begins with a history teacher taking school children around the known world. Their last stop is the Gap, a small, well guarded opening into the vast unknown wasteland. The teacher explains to the students the current political makeup of the known world. At the Gap two of the kids Hop into the real world and the teacher follows them. They talk about Curt Van Theen who vanished through that Gap 20 years earlier. His name is reviled by all in the known world for fleeing into the wilderness. Few know why he fled a troubled time, breaking through the Barrier that protects the known world from the dangerous wasteland. All feared what would come from the unknown because of his actions. As the teacher and children discuss this in the real world, alarms ring through the Gap. The teacher, students, and those guarding the Gap look and see a black swarm approach them from the wilderness with balls of fire hurled their way. The teacher and students Hop back into the Virtual Reality (I haven’t come up with a good name for this yet) just as the balls of fire utterly destroy the Gap and those guarding it.

I had to repost this story. I misspelled the title, and that just won’t do for searches. So here it is again. Enjoy!

Some have thought the title is pretty hokey. Read the story and tell me what you think. This story is rather autobiographical, as those who know me will recognize. I wrote it one day during SSR (Sustained Silent Reading) in my senior year in high school. I wrote feverishly, my mind wanting to finally get this out. It is not a happy story. I can’t think of a better title, so if someone can come up with a better one, I’ll thank you dearly.

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I think I’ve got an idea for a new story, a series much like a tv show. Ever since I saw Babylon 5, I’ve been drawn to that format, where you tell a long, drawn out story over a longer period of time. The story I want to write will take place in a fictional world. It will tie in my religious and political beliefs. I am going to try and not date the story, i.e. not tie it down to the events today (too many stories today do that, like Battlestar Galactica).

I tried to get into that Gene story, but I’ve found myself rooted more in reality these days (watching sci-fi aside) with my writings. Perhaps that happens as we grow up. Sometimes I do wish I had the imagination now that I had during high school.

I started this blog specifically to try and get myself motivated to write fiction again. But I’ve noticed that whenever I come with any kind of inspiration to write, one thing dominates my thoughts and chokes fictional inspiration: politics. I really shouldn’t have taken politics at BYU. I regret it immensely. Our world around is in a most horrible shape, and America is at the heart of that horror. I can’t write entertainment right now. I can’t think it. I can’t enjoy it. I feel a strong urge to write about the events around me, to convince others to move away from war. What do other writers do to stay focused on fiction during such times? Write about the war? I could use advice from anyone reading this blog. It would be much appreciated.

This is a working title, and a very short beginning to a story I began about three years ago. I don’t know what I want to do with this story at this point.

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I wrote this while attending Foothill College in California back in 1993. A woman who took the same music theory class with me stimulated my imagination with her demeanor and love of music. She reminded me of what I imagined travelling musicians were like back in Medieval/Renaissance days. So I began writing this story, but was too impatient to start from the beginning. So here is chapter three, where Rebekah makes her first appearance.

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After I wrote the first part of Chapter Three, I went backwards to Chapter Two. I figured Chapter One would be too boring to write, and I wanted to get right to the action. :p

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