2122 words thus far. Two seemingly unrelated plot threads that take place in a world that is a fusion of fantasy and science fiction, where my imagination is boundless. It always sucks that so many fantasy writers out there allow themselves to be restrained by D&D rubbish, and not go further than that. And seriously, there are too many Pratchett wannabes out there whose smug and condescending prose style annoy more than amuse, but then, I was even worse than a Pratchett wannabe (since I've only read ONE Discworld book, and Good Omens, which he did with Neil Gaiman), I was a Pratchett wannabe wannabe whilst writing fanfics.
I was a fan of such writing, but when every Tom, Dick and Harry and their moms and grandmothers started praising praising Pratchett as if he were a god, not to say emulating his writing style as well, it was impossible for me not to feel mildly annoyed. It's not as if Discworld's the only fantasy series out there anyway.
Some excerpts of what I've written.
I was a fan of such writing, but when every Tom, Dick and Harry and their moms and grandmothers started praising praising Pratchett as if he were a god, not to say emulating his writing style as well, it was impossible for me not to feel mildly annoyed. It's not as if Discworld's the only fantasy series out there anyway.
Some excerpts of what I've written.
The sorceress muttered and groaned in her sleep. Despite his annoyance, Erik remained silent, carefully searching for an inn. She was heavier than he had expected, and he was soon bathed in sweat, panting and gasping for air. Above him, flocks of dragons flew past, accompanied by dozens of witches in brooms, laughing and singing.
“Damn. Another one of those illegal races again.” A man nearby grunted, looking up into the sky. “Can’t even get a good night’s sleep these days because of them.”
