Judging by his skinny arms, he can’t be more than twenty. His beard would have you believe otherwise. Its rat-brown color appears grey in the too-bright morning light, conveying a sense of age, a sense of wisdom that he doesn’t deserve. At first glance, one sees a sage, a pensive philosopher commuting to work. Upon closer inspection, more likely possibilities present themselves: a mountain-man wannabe hipster, Movember leftovers, a Tolkien geek working on his Gandalf the Grey costume for the premiere of The Hobbit. That’s probably what it is—bet he already has opening night tickets. In IMAX 3D. Loser.
According to my search, I have never done a story with a character named John. I am not even sure how that's possible at this point. And to clarify, I would never think someone who has opening night tickets to The Hobbit is a loser. Although I'm not personally an epic Tolkien devotee, I can't really judge those who are, considering my own myriad mildly unhealthy obsessions (Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes, Game of Thrones...) So, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little drabble. Two in one week!
Speaking of Game of Thrones, I finished book 4 over the weekend, and I just started A Dance with Dragons! I am almost finished! I have a love-hate relationship with the series. I greatly enjoy them, but they're so long that I can't wait to be finished so I can read other things.
We had a good DWChitown meeting last night. Can I just give a piece of writing advice? When I'm working on my novel, sometimes I read things that I've written and I panic and I think "OHMYGODTHISISTERRIBLEIAMANAWFULWRITER." But then I realize, no, I am not an awful writer. I know this to be true because I recognize when I've written something awful, and I have the good sense to fix it in the next draft. Don't stop just because you've written something bad. You can always edit it into a masterpiece. Or something sort of close to a masterpiece. Mildly close, anyway.