Do you realize how special this week is?
Two years ago, sometime this week, a life changing event occurred. While my brother was in the hospital having his appendix removed, and all the house was quiet, I went into our storage room. Sitting down among the various piles of boxes and junk, a scrap piece of paper and a pink Tinkerbell pencil in hand, I wrote these fateful words:
This story is about a Fairy. But not just any old Fairy; this Fairy is a Sprite.
Apart from being the worst first sentence in the history of first sentences, these seventeen words are what launched me into the adventure of a lifetime. These words started me out on the road that would take me to places I’d never even dreamed of, realms of character arcs and plot points and cliches, themes and world building and allegory.
These words began my first book.
Granted, the story has undergone some major renovations, considering I had NO idea what I was doing when I started it. In fact, the finished version was so terrible that I spent the entirety of 2016 endeavoring to salvage it. I’m still not done rewriting it, and I ain’t gonna lie, there has been a fair amount of stress and facepalming along the way. (And maybe one or two long glances at the trash can.)
But despite all the extraneous bad stuff, I honestly don’t know where I’d be without my book. It’s been my world when I don’t understand this one. My characters have been my best friends when I’m lonely. Through them, I’ve struggled, and through them, I am still triumphing. They have taught me. God has taught me through them. I will never be able to explain just how grateful I am to Him for giving me the gift of words.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get published. Sheesh, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to finish my stupid novel. It doesn’t seem like it sometimes. But I’m so thankful that I was able to have this adventure, however unfinished it may be, and I’m even more thankful for my family and the people who have supported me through the whole thing. I’ve had the opportunity to meet so many amazing people because of it, and I’ve learned so much about the real world through my fake one.
So today, in honor of all this, I’d like to share the prologue of my book. I present to you…
Untitled Draft 23!
The forest does not forget.
In the Starlit Age of the Realm called Silver, when the bone of the perishable and blood of the undying mingled together in the streets of the same city, the trees watched. When oaths were taken and kinships formed between mortal and immortal, the trees stood witness. When battles waged and those of earth and those of heaven stood together to the bitter end, though the field ran red with death and the corpses were too many to count, the trees guarded the fallen.
And the trees remembered.
The trees were there when the ancient kings fell. They saw the decay of time and friendships. They watched the world grow dark, and the blood of mortality and immortality slowly part. They looked on as humans came into the world as babies and went out of it withered and old, while the Faeries lived on, ever young, retreating into themselves and the forests, never to be seen unless the world was in peril.
Oaths were broken. Kinships forsaken. Friends forgotten. Alliances died and races became strangers to one another.
The forest saw it all.
And the forest remembers.
I literally wrote this last night. But I like it, so who cares?
Anyway, I think that’s enough sap for one day. Happy Anniversary to me, and may I finish my book before I’m seventy-two.
Have a lovely July in one day!