"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Seasons.

Spring,
flowers sprout and
grow.

Summer,
heat flourishes and
hangs.

Fall,
leaves yellow and
die.

Winter,
creeps in and
stays.

- - -

Sorry, I know there's a bit of a gap between my posts. School has just been eating me alive, namely English AP. I guess if I just sat down and actually did my homework for once... :)Ah, I keeping telling myself as long as I do well on exams and the Finals, I'll be fine.

This statement is true. If I pass the Final exam with, say, eighty percent (which is easy on a comprehensive test) then I bring my mark up a minimun of twenty percent. That's rough math, obviously, but you get the picture.

Quite soon I will be posting up a prologue I wrote a good while ago, though the version I put up here will be revised and rewritten. The first two paragraphs are done, so I'll give you a sneak peak:

Old Version:

"He screeched in pain, a sound that echoed throughout the dank halls and empty pools of water that had formed in some of the older areas. The sound of dripping was a constant beat, a rhythm that the torture ensuing danced to."

As you can see, it's a weak parapgraph. I went back to elaborate and expand.

New Version:

"He screeched in pain, a sound that echoed through the dank halls and empty rooms of Shiro’s neglected palace. It vibrated through old cobwebs draped across everything: They sheeted the gray stone of the walls, hung from unused chandeliers, coated lavish chairs and wasted furniture. In some of the older rooms, ripples appeared in pools of once stagnant water. Drops of liquid hammered stone and molding carpet."

To me, the new version is not only stronger, but gives you a much better sense of place. But I'm probably biased. :)

Sweet, till later!

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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."