Post by smaug on Feb 17, 2009 5:23:56 GMT -5
You know, I have no idea why I keep giving these titles to my threads, I just do. Anyway, hello to all, my name be Smaug (just in case you missed that) and this is my writing corner.
It’s been a dream of mine to become a writer. I’ve actually completed my first children novel and I’m currently trying to get it published. But, I thought I would use this forum to show you a selection of piece I’ve done over the years and such. Hopefully, if I get the go ahead from Chris, I might be able to put my Broken Sky fic here… but until then please enjoy this, I only wrote it on Sunday.
Any feedback is welcomed. Please help me grow.
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Incense
“Go back as far as you can and describe an event from your past that is marked by smell” I chuckled, though not through amusement but through contempt. “Why do our memories fascinate you so much?” I asked holding the sheet of paper before me, perhaps waiting for an answer to materialise. Oddly enough, nothing happened. So setting the paper down, I reclined further in to the comforts of my armchair and looked towards the plain ceiling of my room. Sadly, this also proved to be quite dull.
Resisting the overpowering urge to grab my blood red guitar, I closed my bored eyes and allowed my mind to drift, hoping to find some interest in one of the numerous thoughts that floated there. Unfortunate this usual tactic of escape failed, for the question for bloody assignment stubbornly lingered in the depth of my subconscious. I swore and shifted my body slightly, before allowing it to sink further into the cushions. Fine then, let’s play your silly little game and think back to my earliest memory to do with smell – granted I think we could be so much more productive with this, but for now I will indulge you.
I briefly entertained the idea of describing a ball of sh*t and seeing if people in class would be able to put two and two together. But this was swiftly dismissed. I was on thin ice as it was and I didn’t particularly care for the look of the water below my feet. So again I submerged myself and thoughtfully poured through the archives of my brain.
Perhaps the first time I had Chinese… no, that was more to do with taste and sight. Lobster? No, that wouldn’t do either. Then again did it have to be about food? No, it didn’t, the sheet wasn't that specific. So I should be more board in my thoughts and allow them to wander to anything... anything about smell… anything at all…
An uncomfortable feeling suddenly swept over me… I suppose I could describe her. I do remember quite plainly her hair, that fruity, refreshing though sometimes oddly peppery scent. I also remembered how she always seemed to carry the fragrances of incense stick (maybe because she burnt so many of the bloody things…). In fact it was one of the reasons that I brought them myself.
I opened my eyes. For a moment I sat, petrified by the sobering feelings, musing silently in my chair.
Then slowly rising, I gathered the blue transparent lighter from my fireplace, before turning and taking a small box from shelf and opening it. Inside was small group of triangles, coloured a powdery green. Taking one, I ignited it and placed it on a black plate that was guarded by a crocodile. Then moving to my desk, I turned on my laptop as the room steadily filled with the soothing, intoxicating aroma… and the painful memories.
****************************************************
Loved it, hated it? Please tell me.
Smaug
It’s been a dream of mine to become a writer. I’ve actually completed my first children novel and I’m currently trying to get it published. But, I thought I would use this forum to show you a selection of piece I’ve done over the years and such. Hopefully, if I get the go ahead from Chris, I might be able to put my Broken Sky fic here… but until then please enjoy this, I only wrote it on Sunday.
Any feedback is welcomed. Please help me grow.
****************************************************
Incense
“Go back as far as you can and describe an event from your past that is marked by smell” I chuckled, though not through amusement but through contempt. “Why do our memories fascinate you so much?” I asked holding the sheet of paper before me, perhaps waiting for an answer to materialise. Oddly enough, nothing happened. So setting the paper down, I reclined further in to the comforts of my armchair and looked towards the plain ceiling of my room. Sadly, this also proved to be quite dull.
Resisting the overpowering urge to grab my blood red guitar, I closed my bored eyes and allowed my mind to drift, hoping to find some interest in one of the numerous thoughts that floated there. Unfortunate this usual tactic of escape failed, for the question for bloody assignment stubbornly lingered in the depth of my subconscious. I swore and shifted my body slightly, before allowing it to sink further into the cushions. Fine then, let’s play your silly little game and think back to my earliest memory to do with smell – granted I think we could be so much more productive with this, but for now I will indulge you.
I briefly entertained the idea of describing a ball of sh*t and seeing if people in class would be able to put two and two together. But this was swiftly dismissed. I was on thin ice as it was and I didn’t particularly care for the look of the water below my feet. So again I submerged myself and thoughtfully poured through the archives of my brain.
Perhaps the first time I had Chinese… no, that was more to do with taste and sight. Lobster? No, that wouldn’t do either. Then again did it have to be about food? No, it didn’t, the sheet wasn't that specific. So I should be more board in my thoughts and allow them to wander to anything... anything about smell… anything at all…
An uncomfortable feeling suddenly swept over me… I suppose I could describe her. I do remember quite plainly her hair, that fruity, refreshing though sometimes oddly peppery scent. I also remembered how she always seemed to carry the fragrances of incense stick (maybe because she burnt so many of the bloody things…). In fact it was one of the reasons that I brought them myself.
I opened my eyes. For a moment I sat, petrified by the sobering feelings, musing silently in my chair.
Then slowly rising, I gathered the blue transparent lighter from my fireplace, before turning and taking a small box from shelf and opening it. Inside was small group of triangles, coloured a powdery green. Taking one, I ignited it and placed it on a black plate that was guarded by a crocodile. Then moving to my desk, I turned on my laptop as the room steadily filled with the soothing, intoxicating aroma… and the painful memories.
****************************************************
Loved it, hated it? Please tell me.
Smaug