Is anyone working on their own art/novel/creation - can you share?

[Valiant]

I'm sure there are others who have dreamed of their own plots and story devices. I've always tried to keep my 'amazing' ideas to myself, so I can't ask anyone to share their best, but if you feel like giving a short glimplse into one of your own creations, please share.

[Samurai Freak]

Thats cool, tell me if you get published. ; )

[Selendra]

I've been trying to write, it's just so hard to finish anything. I would sit and begin to write and lose track of what I was writing. One of my plots was something along the line of a young girl who's mother falls in love with her greedy boss. The boss convinces the mother to kill the father for the money. Only when the mother does, the will had given everything to the daughter...

Flimsy, but I've been thinking about more fantasy subjects lately. I guess I could attempt to write out a few chapters of my fantasy ideas. I accept criticism with grace and will not get mad.

Please and thank you!!!

[Blackhawk]

Here is a bit of the prologue to something I'm cooking up. I mean to go back and enhance it, making the main character face challenges on his way, but I was in a hurry when I was writing it. Anywho:

The heat never left the Jungles of Nex’Hapsta. Humidity was thick in the air, hazing up the horizon, blurring it. A great ziggurat was built in the middle of the jungle, by some long lost fey race, and rose silently above the dense canopy of the trees.
Jerydyn entered into the Ziggurat carefully, cautiously. His torch barely lit the 10 paces in front of him, but his black eyes, a gift from Semarit, allowed him to see everything vividly. The passageway was about 100 paces long, with a wooden door hanging loose at the end.
Jerydyn walked toward the door, checking for traps along the way. The door was engraved with several ancient runes, none of which he was able to read. The hinges had been blasted off, like some great blast had shaken the foundation of the Ziggurat. Jerydyn carefully pushed the door open, and then stepped forward.
The room he was in was gigantic. The walls were so far apart that he could not only not see the other side, but he couldn’t see the sides’ perpendicular to him. It was all just an unending darkness, with walls jutting out to either side, seemingly forever. The room was somehow bigger than the entire Ziggurat; some ancient fey magic was at work.
In the center of the room was a circular depression, about 10 paces deep. As Jerydyn walked toward the depression, he gasped. The depression was littered with runes, spiraling downward toward the center. At the center was a great, obsidian alter, covered in ice so clear, it was barely noticeable.
Jerydyn walked closer toward the alter, and felt the temperature start to drop. By the time he reached it, despite having jogged 50 paces, he was shivering from the cold, his sweat frozen on his body. He glanced toward the top
On top of the altar, incased in ice, set three orbs. Jerydyn almost jumped for joy. It was what he had come to the dumb temple for in the first place. The orbs were glowing, the ice reflecting and refracting their glows, casting eerie colors upon the wall. One orb was blue, one black, and the other gold. The Orb of Destiny, the Orb of Death, and the Orb of Power.
Jerydyn muttered an incantation under his breath, and in his hand formed a ball of fire. Reaching out, he punched the great slab of ice, right at where the orbs were. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the alter, encompassing the Orbs. The resounding blast sent Jerydyn back 10 paces, and the light made him avert his eyes, black spots stinging.
When Jerydyn regained use of his eyes, he turned back to the alter. Of the three Orbs, only the Orb of Destiny remained. Jerydyn realized it was being held, and followed the arm up, to glance at the person holding it.
The man could only be described as a Joker. His clown-like face was smiling, and he was dressed like the Royal Fool.
“Well,” the Joker said, giggling hysterically, “It seems you have finally come, Jerydyn.”
Fear shot through Jerydyn’s eyes, but he quickly calmed himself, “How do you know my name?”
“Come now, Jerydyn. For the top of your class, you are a bit dull, aren’t you?” The Joker gave a hearty laugh, “You came here to retrieve the Orbs, and I knew it. There is only one of the Orbs you can use, and it’s this one.” He tossed the Orb of Destiny to Jerydyn. “Now, Jerydyn, go save Dowshas.”
Jerydyn caught the Orb, and bowed. “Thank you,” He said, turning away.
“Jerydyn, wait.” Jerydyn slowly turned around, “Good luck!” And the Joker burst out laughing again.
Jerydyn shook his head, and ran out of the pit, trying to warm himself up.
“You’re gonna need it.” The Joker mumbled under his breath.
The Joker then turned to the alter, and read the inscription underneath the Orbs, saying it aloud, “Actar Ard Drasha. So it begins.”

[Selendra]

So, I've two questions:

1. Exactly what about runes do you know?
2. Where did you come up with the names of your characters?

[Blackhawk]

1. By runes, I mean like Irish writing, some of which I can read.
2. Some of them are anagrams, others are just random, like Jerydyn.

[Selendra]

Hmmm... I've never really looked at Irish writing.

[Blackhawk]

Wikipedia, my dear friend.

And, on the names, Semarit, is Artemis, etc. Dowshas is shadows. I think those are the only two anagrams incorporated so far.

[Selendra]

Artemis as in the greek godess?

[Blackhawk]

Yep. I was kinda brain dead, so I went for anagrams.

[Selendra]

Makes perfect sense to me.

[Anthony L.]

In my opinion, it needs a lot more inner dialogue; i.e. thoughts, feelings, or observations. When you go from location to location like that with little else aside from visual description, it starts sounding like a game of DnD.

Those are just my personal feelings, though.

[Blackhawk]

I know, That was sorta a rough draft. I'm gonna work on it some more when I get the time, detail it out more.