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Aerden
aerden
.::.::...... ..


May 2019
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Aerden [userpic]
Rereading

Have you ever reread something you wrote and asked yourself, "How in the world did I ever find it in me to write that?"

God, if I could write a novel like that...

I have to write a novel like that.

PS: Happy Birthday, Crys! *Hugs!*

Current Mood: awed
Comments
Oh yes, been there...

It was a tahoo-groups based roleplay based around lord of the rings, only set after the films. I can say that that was quite easily the best stuff i've ever written, some of my jp's there with suse before we 'got together'.

It all went to pot when she moved in :)

Re: Oh yes, been there...

ah yes, thorn and fiondi.

i played legolas and turned him into a twisted half-nazghul mockery of the pretty boy he once was.

you played the queen who had betrayed her entire people to sauron.

yes, that was pretty stampingly good.

*smiles in fond reminiscence*

Re: Oh yes, been there...

Suse--You did that to Legolas? And hordes of fan-girls didn't murder you while you slept? I'm impressed! (g)

Chantal

Re: Oh yes, been there...

I did. I did terrible things to him. But I don't think the fangirls noticed....


The forest was alive with sound to him. Soft shifting shuffles, hollow haunted hummings, deep drifting notes of earth and sky and tree and creature. He could hear everything; the earthsense in him alive it seemed for the first time in years. It made the heartbeat of the Hollin Gate a mere whisper in the eternity of night by comparison.

"I am ready." he replied softly, his voice low and almost a sibilant hiss.

If she noticed his tone she gave no sign of it. Instead she slowly stood and turned away from him.

"Come then."

Without looking back to see if she was followed she began to carefully step forwards. Each placing of her feet came without any seeming thought, though each one was instinctively and carefully measured to slide her precisely through the undergrowth. No sound at all came from her as six thousand years of wood-sense saw her glide into the foliage, not even a whisper to mark her passing.

Thorn drew his dark brown leather coat around him and followed her. Unlike the elf in front of him, Thorn seemed to make no especial effort at woodscraft.

He just simply was silent. His breathing was quiet and shallow, and even his heartbeat was silent in his own ears. His feet trod lightly as they ever did, even lighter; and when they landed on twigs that should have snapped, the twigs did not and he passed by like a shadow in the shadows.


Thank you

*Hugs* :-D

Every so often, although normally it is individual sentences, etc.; not something quite so long as a novel (LOL!). Not sure I have that kind of staying power.

Actually, for me, it is always things I wrote on a deadline for others -- partly because that built in structure makes me very disciplined, and for me, writing is certainly about inspiration and talent, but mostly, it is about very hard work, grit and determination. Those sentences that I polished hour after hour, not the ones that came to me in a burst of "brilliance" are the ones I am most happy about later.

Have you ever reread something you wrote and asked yourself, "How in the world did I ever find it in me to write that?"

Oh, yes!

Every so often I'll realize that I've written something that I could not have come up with if I'd simply been thinking about it. I love those times of tapping into deeper wisdom, or the mythic level of consciousness.

I loved the writing you linked, by the way!

... yeah.

... [blink] Sorry, did you want specifics? There are SO many examples I could give. ... all old.