Resurrecting Alys.
Dec. 12th, 2001 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kuangning"They say no girl, no child, could remember accurately the experiences of her infancy. They say it with indulgent smiles for my fancies, and with relief, too; genuine gladness for me, that at best I can only have cobbled together the stuff of dreams and half-remembered whisperings. They smile, and then send me about my way, and pretend that what I claim to remember is not the truth, and they hope I have not noticed that the emotion they show first when I begin to recount my memories... my impossible, earliest recollections... is terror. And I love them, my adopted family, my guardians, my friends, and so I pretend, too, that I do not remember, and do not know, that they are also my children.
I want no religion: I need no legacy but them. This book, then, is no scripture. It is only the truth. Even I need some space that is mine alone, somewhere to put my thoughts where they will not be judged. This book will do as well as any other space for that... I will come here."
The slender child sighed softly, pushed dark hair out of startlingly violet eyes, and bent again to her writing. The sounds of other children abandoning their play had started drifting down the hillside some time ago, and the sun had almost sunk into the northern skies, but she knew she could linger perhaps ten minutes longer before her mother would call her home.
*****
Call me stubborn. NaNoWriMo came and went in a flurry of shocks and disappointments for me, with no leisure for scribbling anything. But the original concept for that novel is one I've been holding onto since I was sixteen, and, well, the thought of writing it out in a flurry of deliberate "quantity more than quality" mindset didn't appeal anyway. I'm taking up the broken threads now the best I can... quite a lot of it needs to be recreated... and I'm going to finish Godseed, and do the concept as much justice as I can do, though maybe not as much as it deserves. I'm going to throw the ordered bitses into Airgiodach: the story has come to me in lots of fragments that I haven't yet placed into the timeline of the whole, though, and those, like this one, I'll throw here and move later.
It's a gray sort of day outside, and my mood matches. Let's hope the weather, internal and external, clears up later.
I want no religion: I need no legacy but them. This book, then, is no scripture. It is only the truth. Even I need some space that is mine alone, somewhere to put my thoughts where they will not be judged. This book will do as well as any other space for that... I will come here."
The slender child sighed softly, pushed dark hair out of startlingly violet eyes, and bent again to her writing. The sounds of other children abandoning their play had started drifting down the hillside some time ago, and the sun had almost sunk into the northern skies, but she knew she could linger perhaps ten minutes longer before her mother would call her home.
*****
Call me stubborn. NaNoWriMo came and went in a flurry of shocks and disappointments for me, with no leisure for scribbling anything. But the original concept for that novel is one I've been holding onto since I was sixteen, and, well, the thought of writing it out in a flurry of deliberate "quantity more than quality" mindset didn't appeal anyway. I'm taking up the broken threads now the best I can... quite a lot of it needs to be recreated... and I'm going to finish Godseed, and do the concept as much justice as I can do, though maybe not as much as it deserves. I'm going to throw the ordered bitses into Airgiodach: the story has come to me in lots of fragments that I haven't yet placed into the timeline of the whole, though, and those, like this one, I'll throw here and move later.
It's a gray sort of day outside, and my mood matches. Let's hope the weather, internal and external, clears up later.
