The Writer At Heart

So the big question is; how did I get interested in writing? What's so great about it?

As far as I can remember, I always loved to read. Around beginning grades of lower school, I was reading Magic Tree House books and such. By higher grades of lower school, I was reading Percy Jackson books. Now, I read sci-fi books like crazy. I do read other genres too though. I read the Reckoners series, Legend, Hunger Games, Throne of Glass, and so much more. I even did OBOB from 4-7 grade. Reading really inspired me to write. I though it would be fun to try to construct a story of my own.

For those who don't enjoy writing, you might be asking yourself; why do some people like writing so much? Well first off, in my opinion, writing is an art. It requires so much more than just typing up some sentences on a computer.

A writer has to think about a good story plan, choosing an idea for their story, character and bringing the characters to life, focusing their story, the plot, point of view, the beginning parts, dialogue, story tension and trying to keep their readers hooked, the ending, revising, polishing, the list never stops! Writing is making your own story come to life, it's like a movie, but better.

Once, I went to a book author talk, and Brandon Sanderson was giving it. Brandon Sanderson is an awesome author of the New York Times bestselling (soon to be trilogy) Reckoners series. He said to not think of writing as trying to write a really awesome book, but to think of it as training yourself to write a really awesome book, and how those were two ways of thinking. He really inspired me (he was the first amazing author I've met outside of Catlin) and I knew I had to be persistent with my writing.

I started really writing around fifth grade. Now I have fallen in love with it. I have written three major stories. From fifth to around sixth grade, I was writing a story called The Frozen Flame. It's sort of fantasy, and I've written roughly 54 pages.

Around sixth grade, I wrote a story called Evolution. It's more sci-fi, and I've written 34 pages.

Presently, I am writing a story called The Shadow Pariah: Diadem of Obsidian. It's fantasy, and I have written 25 pages, and counting. The Shadow Pariah is about a girl named Faerel Xilvaris. She is part of this group called the Pariah Shadow Dragons, or just Shadow Dragons. This group is made up of mostly young teenage criminals, people who were originally brutal assassins for another company, but these two groups parted ways. The company and the Shadow Dragons are at war with each other, they are both trying to obliterate each other, trying to stay one step in front of another. 
This is my main idea. I might change some stuff later. I'm not even sure if this is my main plot.
This story is really bloody! It has some killing and romance.

I really believe writing everyday is important to developing your writing skills. It's no use waiting until you grow older or until you have enough time to write, because you have just wasted all those years with doing nothing.

Brandon Sanderson at Powell's Bookstore

I really hope to get far into The Shadow Pariah, and I hope to make a novel out of it. I want to try to write at least 15 minutes per day, and if not, 5 minutes. I also want to try to get my sentences to run more smoothly, to not have my ideas bouncing all around.

Here's a link to most of the writing pieces I've done:

http://awesomestuffthatiwrite.blogspot.com/

If you're interested, here are some excerpts of my major stories. You might find it interesting how my writing has improved over the years. I didn't put in Evolution, but you can check it at the link above:

The Frozen Flame

Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Ice and Spirit

Chapter One

Vik

Vik woke to the soft kiss of steel against his throat.

He whipped his knife out from under his pillow and lunged at the cloaked figure standing over him. The figure threw off it’s hood, revealing a girl with wavy blonde hair tumbling down along her back. She had icy blue eyes and wore a dark blue velvet cloak trailing behind her. Her face went into a smile.

Vik stopped his blade in motion midair. “Sheesh! Calm down Vik. It’s just me. At least you are pretty conscious even in sleep. Are you ready?” Iris’s voice.

Heart thumping, panic subsiding, Vik remembered their plan.

"Okay. I'll meet you outside. I still have to, you know," Vik said as he flew to his closet. Iris put her hood back on her head. With enough agility to overrule a cat, she opened Vik's window and leapt out out. Vik waited for the crash, but nothing came. Iris could still surprise him when she wanted too.

Vik caught sight of the moonlight casting a silvery light across the floor. He took a deep breath and let his feelings wash over him. He walked over to the mirror that was standing in the corner of his room. Seeing a 13 year old boy, with blonde tousled hair, and blue eyes, wearing a necklace of a red serpent's eye.

He had no idea why he still had the necklace. Still, his uncle kept drilling into him that he never, ever remove it.

But the one feature that haunted him his whole life was three pink scars that ran down his left forearm.

Vik touched his freezing fingers to it, and his scars prickled. He barely remembered how he got that.

Shadow Pariah

Diadem of Obsidian

Dear ------------------,

     I dare not speak her name.

She is the bringer of fire.

The destroyer of worlds.

She is the sun, moon, and stars.

An outcast.

Whole civilizations crumble.

She is the assassin in the night.

Blood drips from her knives.

So please, -----------------, heed my warning.

Beware the ------------------------.

They are cruel and ruthless.

They will show you no mercy.

Beware.

Beware.

Can't you feel it?

A storm is coming.

The Obsidian Diadem is dangerous in the wrong hands.

You have to get it before they do.

They are coming.

Good luck,

৳௹◮⌥∅❦❈☍

♛♈



Prologue

So there Faerel Xilvaris was, about to get sacrificed to the Dark Brothers on a mountain peak in front of a monument. To be honest, the view was quite beautiful to her. Solaris City spread out across, the twinkling lights, like stars against a night sky. The full moon, like a white spotlight. Those puny little humans down below, living their lives, completely oblivious and blind to the other species living amongst them.

But when she slid her eyes slightly to the right, left, or behind her, past the city, her view would be blocked by the monument and the Dark Brothers. Their blood-red cloaks cascaded to the ground. Faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods. Sinister candles lined the perimeter of the courtyard, their flickering light strangely comforting in a creepy sort of way.

The wooden pole left splinters against her back and bare forearms. The rope binding her bit into her wrists, almost cutting off the circulation to her fingers. Faerel's throat and tongue felt like sandpaper. Her stomach aches from days without food. The only thing keeping her warm was a tattered jacket hanging around her bony shoulders.

She was familiar with the customs of the Dark Brothers. She had angered their high council, and was to be executed on the steps of the monument, so that her blood would run down the obsidian surface, pooling at the bottom. It would serve as an offering to their gods and goddesses.

One of the brothers grabbed her by the arms, roughly pulling her around the pole so that she was facing the large steps.

The monument was made entirely of smooth, sleek obsidian. Grand pillars lined the entryway. Runes were carved into the walls, and torches lit with green flame lined the exterior.

"From the ancient book of Morn' dira Nhereas, we are gathered here to perform this sacred ritual. Your sacrifice is Faerel Xilvaris. She is guilty for the attempt of stealing the Sacred Diadem of Djarfajara, the ruling goddess. That crime is punishable by death," one of the Brothers referenced from a huge, red, leather-bound book.

Faerel felt the ropes being loosened from her wrists, and she was shoved up the slippery, black steps. She felt herself slip on the bottom step, and she threw her hands out in front of her to catch herself. Pain flared up her palms as the sharp edges of the stairs cut into them, the wind got knocked out of her Faerel's elbows jolted with the impact.

She bit her tongue to keep from crying out, the metallic taste of blood exploded in her mouth.

She had to hold herself back. She could kill these Brothers in seconds. But she needed to stick with the plan.