(no subject)
Mar. 22nd, 2002 02:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7spent the day wrestling with office 2000. thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sicarii for her help with tech support. ^.^
finally managed to wrest open my ancient, ancient files...
it's nice to re-read them. this is the Novel that I began writing in 1991 on notebook paper, in pencil. The earliest computer documents are in Word Perfect 5.1, vintage approximately 1994.
This is some old stuff. It was me, learning how to express myself in words, and in writing. Some of it is the formation of my mind.
The early stuff really sucks. I don't know anything.
Some of the more recent stuff is exquisite. At least, to me. I don't know how anyone else would see it.
I don't write like this currently. The most recent stuff is from the beginning of the summer. But it's all on themes and characters that are much older. Strong visuals, an exotic and nebulous setting, vivid characters, little jewel-like episodes strung out on a frayed and tangled string or set of strings, i could never tell; some episodes cancel each other out (by killing off a character, or restoring him to life; by changing a circumstance, by obliterating an event) and some follow each other, but not directly. Some of these sections are forty pages long, some three, some a paragraph. There are a hundred and thirty-three files in this folder. Some have last-modified dates of 1998 or so; but those dates are only when they were transferred to my new computer (the one before this one!) and saved in the new program. Some are still in the old old format, and are from 1997 or so. I just found an essay I wrote in a college application. ...
Such a trip, to journey back in time into my own mind.
My father only had one son. I am the only child of my race.
But my mother had two sons. My mother was a chieftainess of a wandering tribe, of an ancient lineage. She was a strong and proud woman, and well deserving of her rank.
Her other son was by a man of another tribe, his lineage equal to hers; the son was the product of a political union, and was to cement relations between the two tribes. He was to lead the tribe when he grew up. We were together as brothers for the first seven years of his life, but when I was ten, the slavers caught me. I never forgot him.
He never did lead his tribe. His was a far greater destiny, honorable though a tribe leadership may be. His destiny was to lead the people of Mordenhall to a victory against war; Bryson of St. Martin's was too deep a traditionalist to have peace dictated to him, but by taking his heart into his teeth and surrendering, Garan, for such was my brother's name, saved thousands of lives, and made it possible for the dragons to end their feud of four millennia. There is no good and no evil, only opposites that must coexist to define each other. This strong man put his life and his honor out in front of all to force a balance in this conflict, and because of his strength, because of his purity, because of his wisdom, his people accepted it. And because his people accepted it, our people accepted it.
And he had never forgotten me. He knew me, as he lay there with his blood in his teeth, his body all undone. He recognized me, and called my name. And because I knew so intimately who and what he was, I was able to save him. This brave man did not have to die for his courage, though he nearly did.
approximately Nov 2000, in a file lastmodified july 21 2001
sicarii for her help with tech support. ^.^finally managed to wrest open my ancient, ancient files...
it's nice to re-read them. this is the Novel that I began writing in 1991 on notebook paper, in pencil. The earliest computer documents are in Word Perfect 5.1, vintage approximately 1994.
This is some old stuff. It was me, learning how to express myself in words, and in writing. Some of it is the formation of my mind.
The early stuff really sucks. I don't know anything.
Some of the more recent stuff is exquisite. At least, to me. I don't know how anyone else would see it.
I don't write like this currently. The most recent stuff is from the beginning of the summer. But it's all on themes and characters that are much older. Strong visuals, an exotic and nebulous setting, vivid characters, little jewel-like episodes strung out on a frayed and tangled string or set of strings, i could never tell; some episodes cancel each other out (by killing off a character, or restoring him to life; by changing a circumstance, by obliterating an event) and some follow each other, but not directly. Some of these sections are forty pages long, some three, some a paragraph. There are a hundred and thirty-three files in this folder. Some have last-modified dates of 1998 or so; but those dates are only when they were transferred to my new computer (the one before this one!) and saved in the new program. Some are still in the old old format, and are from 1997 or so. I just found an essay I wrote in a college application. ...
Such a trip, to journey back in time into my own mind.
My father only had one son. I am the only child of my race.
But my mother had two sons. My mother was a chieftainess of a wandering tribe, of an ancient lineage. She was a strong and proud woman, and well deserving of her rank.
Her other son was by a man of another tribe, his lineage equal to hers; the son was the product of a political union, and was to cement relations between the two tribes. He was to lead the tribe when he grew up. We were together as brothers for the first seven years of his life, but when I was ten, the slavers caught me. I never forgot him.
He never did lead his tribe. His was a far greater destiny, honorable though a tribe leadership may be. His destiny was to lead the people of Mordenhall to a victory against war; Bryson of St. Martin's was too deep a traditionalist to have peace dictated to him, but by taking his heart into his teeth and surrendering, Garan, for such was my brother's name, saved thousands of lives, and made it possible for the dragons to end their feud of four millennia. There is no good and no evil, only opposites that must coexist to define each other. This strong man put his life and his honor out in front of all to force a balance in this conflict, and because of his strength, because of his purity, because of his wisdom, his people accepted it. And because his people accepted it, our people accepted it.
And he had never forgotten me. He knew me, as he lay there with his blood in his teeth, his body all undone. He recognized me, and called my name. And because I knew so intimately who and what he was, I was able to save him. This brave man did not have to die for his courage, though he nearly did.
approximately Nov 2000, in a file lastmodified july 21 2001
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no subject
Date: 2002-03-21 11:37 pm (UTC)from Liesl
Date: 2002-03-22 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-03-22 09:15 am (UTC)