Alright, since I can't seem to write a review or anything else without waxing really really long, I'm going to try something different. Actually that's not the primary reason, but it'll do. Today's installment is actually the first installment, a little initial exercise in semi-free writing. It's semi-free because anyone who actually reads it agrees, by reading it, to pay me five dollars. It's too late - you're already caught. I have lawyers and spy cameras. This is not my first foray into fiction but it is my first into carefully-non-calculated fiction where I write with no ultimate goal in mind, or, with any luck, simultaneous editing. Should be interesting, I hope funny, and like any good addiction, I can stop. whenever. I want. Here we go. No title 'cause I never think of those things until I'm done. I'll just do it like this:
Hero had a magic sword. He knew it was magic because it said so, in letters on the side of the blade: "magyc." He wasn't big on spelling so the "y" didn't worry him too much.
Hero took his magic sword to do battle with the local giant, because everyone knows where there's a magic sword there must be something to use it on, and it might as well be a giant. Giant laughed at him, saying "That's no magic sword, just a cheap imitation - you can tell by the misspelling. Standard counterfeit mistake." Giant was very literate and worldly and knew about these things.
"Well, crud" said Hero, and threw the magyc sword to the ground where its blade shattered in a shower of colorful sparks.
"Oh dear," said Giant, who was allergic to cheap imitation sparks of the colored variety. With a mighty sneeze he fell down, dead as something more obviously dead than a doornail.
"Neat" said Hero, and he picked up the handle and walked on. He didn't know what use it could possibly be, but you never throw away anything in these stories.
Pretty soon he came to a flowing river, but when he went in close for a drink he discovered the banks flowed not with water but with wine.
"Biblical!" shouted Hero, using a popular expression to indicate being pleased, and he drank from the flowing not-waters. As he drank, a pair of wings sprouted from his head, which would have been mightily startling to someone from our world but was only mildly startling to Hero. Things happened. He didn't use his brain too often so it took him a while to get the wings working, but eventually their buzz filled the air, reminiscent of hummingbirds if there had been any hummingbirds in this bizarre place, and Hero flew over the river and on into the sky.
That's part one, as close to actual free writing as I've done in a very long time (I'm still restricting myself to complete sentences and some semblance of punctuation). Let's see how long I can keep this up. Maybe something neat will come out of it, like wings from a skull (actually that's just creepy, but kind of viking-esque). Look for part two on Friday.