Skrivande, en del utav kreaktivitetens sida?
Jag har -länge- funderat på att skriva en bok. Jag kan två utav huvudkaraktärerna som baksidan på min hand. Även vart allting ska utspela sig på, hur världen kom till och så vidare. Dock inte hur man ska lägga in en röd tråd och största problemet av allt... Svenska eller Engelska!? Vissa ord kan jag på engelska, andra på svenska. Och svenska låter så otroligt jävla fjantigt när man ska skriva. Särskilt en fantasy bok! Jag tänkte på att slänga in lite onda magiker i boken.. Blood magicians och Shade sorceress. vad blir det på svenska..? Blod trollkarlar och Skugg häxmästare.. GAH!!!!!! vilken jävla tradgedi. Skiten får bli på engelska helt enkelt.. Rätt och slätt.. och hoppas att om den blir publicerad, att den inte översätts på svenska..
Jag vill som en sidenote passa på att ursäkta att jag inte skrivit på länge. Jag har nånstans att bo nu, men inget hem. Saker och ting är bra mycket mer komplicerade än vad jag vill att de ska vara..
Hur som helst, jag tänkte vara bussig och bjuda på ett litet stycke utav vad jag har skrivit.. Kommer dock inte gå in på detaljer, den här boken ska bli -min- och inte nån annan jävla halv tattare som snor litteratur på nätet. copyright - me.. Skriv gärna vad ni tycker! Det skulle glädja mig!
Jag vill som en sidenote passa på att ursäkta att jag inte skrivit på länge. Jag har nånstans att bo nu, men inget hem. Saker och ting är bra mycket mer komplicerade än vad jag vill att de ska vara..
Hur som helst, jag tänkte vara bussig och bjuda på ett litet stycke utav vad jag har skrivit.. Kommer dock inte gå in på detaljer, den här boken ska bli -min- och inte nån annan jävla halv tattare som snor litteratur på nätet. copyright - me.. Skriv gärna vad ni tycker! Det skulle glädja mig!
The beginning of the ancient.
"The damp and dimclad forest north of Lodenol had always been a founding base for storietellers by campfire, or folks who told their grandchildren of the forest and its long dead inhabitants.. Its caves and meadows was said to be a household for the Vargurr. Seeing by some as noncense, and by others as true fact. And to most, just stories to scare children not to wander out in the forest by night.. Because it was said that "the wolf-men might take you!" But from whomever lips these stories came from, they varied. Sometimes they were described as powerfull and intelligent Shamans and knights, humble folks freed from the lycantrophe curse and still blessed by the benefits wich came with their appearance. To others they were even more savage and raw then the more commonly known; Werewolf. It could vary between fright and curiosity, but one thing the people who listend had in common where fascination. And the years passed by and soon only the elders knew the stories of the once powerfull beings that lingerd in the forest. And the stories by campfires and bedtime where more wanted to be of dragons and maidens, and the knight who saved her. And this was all that was to it. Stories, nothing else and nothing more. Until one day when it all would change. When the stories would grow back to life, more real then anyone would even have dreamed of. "
The rise of the forgotten.
"The damp and dimclad forest north of Lodenol had always been a founding base for storytellers gatherd around by a campfire, or folks who told their grandchildren of the forest and its long dead inhabitants..
Its caves and meadows in the deepest of the woods was said to be the home of the Wargur - The wolf men.
When words first spread of these nightstalkers, they were to others as real as the night and day itself.
After some time they were portreyed as cheer imagination.
And so to most,these folklores turnedto mere tales to scare children not to wander outside the citywalls by night.. Because it was said that "the wolf-men might take you!".
And from whomever lips these stories came from, they varied.
Sometimes they were described as powerfull and intelligent humanoids, humble folks freed from the lycantrophe curse and still blessed by the benefits wich came with their appearance. To others they were even more savage and had an even bigger lust for blood then the more commonly known Werewolf.
It could vary between fright and curiosity, but one thing the people who listend had in common it was fascination,
a spark of wild imagination wich took root in the mind. But as the years passed on,
the people grew tired of random noncence and so these stories diminished and faded away.
Soon only the elders knew the stories of the once powerfull beings that lingerd in the deep and dark forest.
The stories by campfires and bedtime now changed into being tales of dragons and maidens, and the knight who slew the foul beast and saved the fair girl.
And it was just like with the tales of the wolf-men, the Wargur, this was all there was to it. Stories.
Nothing else and nothing more.
Until one day when it all would change.
When the old stories would return to peoples ears,
more real then anyone would even have dreamed of.
Här är han, min allt för snygga Cayne.
Det är honom det skrivs om i sista meningarna ;)
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