Looking over past writing

I've been writing for several years now; the blog is one example, I've been doing it for two years, but even prior to that, I've dabbled in attempting short stories and poetry. Whether the efforts are any good, I'm not certain. Several of those attempts can be found on this blog, in fact.

This here is the opening to a story I started writing nearly five years ago, and as you can tell, I wasn't all that great:

The country of Relasia was once a powerful country. It contained many mythical creatures, such as elves, dwarves and gnomes, and contained many beautiful flora, such as the exotic Feroces pefende, a plant that could grow the size of a skyscraper, covering it with an emerald-green blanket, and the Amico magna, which was a very gentle lavender plant, typically grown in farms, and made for a great soup.

I hope you eyerolled reading that as much as I have. Why did 13 year old me use random Latin phrases when describing the nature in a fantasty nation? (By the way, those plants are the "Fiercely fierce" and "Big friend".) Now I wouldn't be the first author to use gratuitous Latin when describing a fantasy land (Harry Potter springs to mind), but that's no excuse. And why did I decide to mention the creatures and not describe them, yet gave loads of commas worth of writing to plant types? 

The Amico magna, according to an image search

However, this country was no longer great, and had been shrouded in mystery and loneliness since an invasion that still causes many of the older residents to shiver. An army of centaurs had taken control of the icy landscapes, planted near its freezing coast, and many Reliains had died as a consequence. The nation was typically peaceful, and so didn’t contain any of the dangerous spear-like weapons that the human-horse morphs brought with them. 

More exposition, and randomly throwing in more species and not describing them - and why did I call them centaurs initially, then shift to "human-horse morphs"?  And this is typically a peaceful nation, you say? Peaceful? So how come there was a war, and many civilians died, 13 year old me, which I needed to specify? And how have I gone from discussing the plants to randomly mentioning a war?

Since then, a grey cloud has been hovering over Relasia, and hope has vanished in thin air. Some, of course, haven’t been so concerned over this incident-many have continued to live their lives as they would, and some tribes haven’t even heard of centaurs, as the human is one of myths and legends, not truths. Relian is the official language, amongst the many other 100 languages also recognized, and is written in a symbol script, a bit similar to hieroglyphs in Ancient Egypt.  

Somehow, it got worse:

Two cliches in one sentence - very impressive.

There was a war which killed many civilians, and yet there are people who don't care? Alright, I suppose there will always be people in conflict zones who manage to move on, but still. 

"The human is one of myths and legends, not truths" - armchair philosophy at its pre-teen finest.

Why am I mentioning Ancient Egypt in this fantastical foreign land?

The country [...] is still a popular tourist destination for the courageous who like to climb the serene Bluerock Cliffs, mine for ice in the icecaps and visit the Fairy Fields, which was the home of many fairies that lived in and around the Amico magnas,building little hideouts where they sleep. Relasia is a great country-I even recommend it. However, it is important to note that hope was missing from this peaceful wonderland, and this won’t be a very cheerful story at the beginning. Who knows, though-maybe joy will return, eventually.

This does read like something from my blog, almost like if Relasia was accessible by Oyster card, next stop Brentwood. You might also notice two key things here:

• I used to insert myself as a narrator a lot. Why would I recommend these cliffs - I don't say.
• I reiterate the fact that hope is missing, as if that is the key takeaway from this. Which, to be honest, I can't tell, because even though I described a war in the middle of this passage, it's surrounded by useless information about the beautiful nature. 

When I showed this to a family member, all quite eager for feedback, they said it read like a tourism pamphlet, and looking at it again, I agree wholeheartedly. Compare it to this brief excerpt from Visit Malta (although I have been in Malta, I have no reason to encourage you to go there):

Whether you’re a history buff, a night owl, an adrenaline junkie, or simply a rambler wishing to be bowled over by natural splendour, the list of things to do in Malta is endless. 

Whatever you’re looking for in a holiday, with so much to see and do, a trip to the Maltese Islands is an unmissable experience for any type of traveller.

If only 13 year old me wrote in second person, I'd have had this style nailed on. Alas, I was fuelled by having read the Lord of the Rings, got up to the introduction of Tom Bombadil, found myself bored, and believed I could do better. I couldn't, and the fact I'm even sharing this writing amuses me somewhat, even if it's only to tear it apart.

This is something I wrote a few years later, and I'm not sure if it's better, but at least I'm not going full tourism board when introducing a book: 

As I always did when commuting to work, I parked my car just outside the gates to the handbag factory. I stifled a yawn as I got out, the sky the colour of murky ink, putting my handbag on my shoulder and walked up to the gates. A slight push and they creaked open, and I slipped inside, before closing the gates behind me. As usual, I was first to arrive at the factory - before, I would have gone straight ahead and prepared my desk to cut skins for the handbags. This time, I was to turn left, towards an office block where I would start working as the assistant to Edna Shankly (the head of the factory).

 

This time, there's a clear progression - someone goes to a handbag factory at the start of the day, and you can tell who the protagonist is, and what the book might be about. I wouldn't have explained who Edna was if I were to write the book now, instead I'd let that come out more naturally later on.

The heels of my shoes echoed as I walked practically blind, the lamps by the distribution centres still unlit, the glow of the moonlight emerging in streaks, my shadow only just starting to be visible. I hadn’t ever thought that I would one day be passing through here, this path being restricted to regular factory workers like me, and I felt fulfilled as I walked, having to force myself to not skip to the building. 

This next bit is a bit too purple prose-like, what with the excess adjectives, but I personally like it. You can even tell what the protagonist is feeling, and the factory is far better described than Resalia was. 

The main flaw is that what the actual book would be about - the exploitation of humans as commodities - doesn't particularly match the opening. Indeed, I found myself, when writing more of the narrative, almost cutting this plotline out, and I personally don't think I'd be the kind of writer who could piece together this opening with a bigger plotline about exploitation without having readers feel betrayed by an almost pointless opening.

I am currently trying to write two books and even a sitcom, though I doubt anything will come of either of them, mainly due to slight fear that the feedback I get will be supportive of scrapping every last bit. I might share bits of them on this blog, or on -b, which is my second, far messier, blog. Not that it matters - the aim is to have fun!

There is one good thing that has come out of this post, though - the satisfaction that I no longer try and:

• explain every last detail about life to the reader in the first chapter;
• act like I, the narrator, am a character.

At least I hope that's the case.