Recently I started writing fiction. It might not be perfect or something special but to me it is a milestone. The point when you decide to write and you actually are writing is a huge step in my opinion. Here is a ‘sneak peak’ of my work:
In the year of 1374 on the darkest day of the year. A day of stark and ominous nature. Full of horrors and morbid creatures of the unnatural. A full, white moon was reflecting the false light unto the lands of an isle in the Baltic sea. The island was large in size. Old, ruined, lifeless castles, towers and villages loom the land. Countless ages have past until man refound the isle. And so, on this night a group of German knights lead by Lord Toten Wulfenburg, an exiled noble of the Holy Roman Empire who was excommunicated for sodomy and hedonism. While in truth, his ambitions got the better of him and during a failed coup he ran away with a group of loyal knights and followers. Wulfenburg was large and burly – bull of a man with long blonde hair, striking sky-blue tired eyes and a dishevelled beard. The exile was hard on him. Few injuries here and there, a walking stick reflects the injuries of a leg. His appearance has definitely seen better days. Tattered ta bard and cloak, dented and dirty armor. His sheath hides the chipped, blunt sword and blood-stained blade. His followers and companions fared a lot worse. One of the knights got his hand severed. A makeshift bandage hides the ugly stump. The other got blinded by a man-at-arms in a small skirmish with a royal patrol – the emperor`s men. Most of them bore minimal injuries. While a common soldier might have abandoned their feudal during such dark and hard times, but these men are loyal men – knights, squires and servants and even some of the ladies. Exiled as they may be they still follow their doomed lord. Lord of the homeless, the exiled, the forgotten, the forsaken, the pariah. During a huge raid of a small port city on the coast of a Baltic sea the exiles managed to commandeer two small merchant ships and a huge supply of food, cloth, general goods and precious metals. They took to the sea. The pagan sea. While the Scandinavian lands to the north have been united with the Christendom and while the Baltic coast to the east is controlled by the Teutonic order there is still something ominous and doom-filling about the sea. Lord Walsenburg and the exiles sailed the calm sea for three days until they came upon the ISLE. The landing was chaotic and panic filled. In a small amount of time the servants and knights erected makeshift tents. The isle gives off a dark and atmosphere and the lord feels it. The isle itself is not charted on the merchant maps. The exiled lord sees an opportunity to disappear from the Christian world by settling the isle. Still staying in one of the ships he look over the isle. Right then one of the knights – the one with a stumped hand, comes to the lord and asks: “What are your orders, lord? We have unencumbered both of the ships. If I may ask…” ” you may” the lord answers. “Are we going to stay on this isle? I noticed that the isle is unsettled by people as far as I can tell. I have dispatched a couple of squires to scour the isle. My thoughts are that we should find a suitable place and set a more permanent encampment there.” The lord remains silent. Thousands of thoughts flood the mind. Something summons him, calls him, teases him to go forth, to explore, to find the source, the summoner. Toten descends the ship unto the soil of the beach. ” It needs name.” He whispers and ventures forth toward the camp.
1) Why do people try to avoid darker, more real or bad things, problems, themes?
2) Why it is hard for some people to share their creative works? Is it fear of criticism?
3) If you had to create a poem or a song would you make it dark, bright? Why?