Ok, this does not really count as doing something. I did all this a long time ago, so posting it is not really effort-intensive.

So, after reading Stu's blog, I decided I needed to start writing again, and part of me wanted to go back over my old stuff, which has been cluttering up my documents folder for a couple years. There were a few things I was proud of, so I decided to post em.

Ok, first: I've always wanted to write a truly great fantasy epic but I've also always wanted to write a satire of the more trite formula fantasy novels out there. A few years back my mind locked onto this idea for an intro which encompasses (in my mind, at least) both desires, by arousing a real emotional response and capping it with a joke. It was almost a meme, it was so insistent. I knew I'd never be able to stop thinking about it until I wrote it down somewhere. It's not perfect yet, and I think some of the references are too blunt; I'd rather write something that gives my readers more credit. But anyway, here it is:

From Time's first breath, wrought amidst fiery chaos by Love incarnate, there have been many great heros forged by the race of men. They lived in many places and times, many dimensions and planes of existence. They flared, bright runes on the pages of history, and in the eyes of those lucky enough to know them, were giants of stature immeasurable. They had names of strength and cunning, names like Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Roland of Gilead, Arthur of Camelot. They strode as legends the corridors of time, bringing hope and light to those hidden in the umbrae of evil. There was Kal-El, and Aeneas, the last sons of Krypton and Illium. There was the great pacifist and statesman, Martin Luther King Jr.; the lover and prince of thieves, Robin of Loxley. There were the great magicians; Maerlin, who raised the Dragon and lived backwards in time, and Gandalf the Gray, who oversaw the destruction of the great evils of Isengarde and Mordor. There was Skywalker, greatest of the Jedi, who redeemed both father and galaxy by strength of will alone. Yet of all these names, there is one that is not spoken on the lips of men. There is yet one hero whose stature will overshadow these all, in whose presence even the greatest of them will feel awe and respect. There is one hero whose story has yet to be told, whose mettle has yet to be fired by battle or quenched by sorrow. This is not his story.

I have no idea where it would go from there, but there you go. One other thing I found was a poem I wrote about a month after 9/11, which dealt more with a crush I had at the time than with my real emotions about that tragedy. However, it needed the timeframe before reading, I think. Anyway I'm rather proud of this too. N.B.: I only write poetry as a method of release when I'm very upset, so most of it is very depressing / angsty. Since I don't really buy into that I rarely show my poetry to anyone, and in fact usually delete it when I feel better. But there are a few I like, of which this is one.

briefly on the beltless seat as the happy people speed by in the sallow light the truly weak me breaks past the animal and the actor. "I'm tired," the actor rallies; but indulging is satisfactory, i want to cry a tap on the head, and i'm afraid weakness is rewarded with hate i go home and read about 9-11 but my dead soul is past the moment the show must go on, even for myself and i hate myself for trying others' tragedy should not be my catharsis but the animal, who shits and eats red meat and wants to fuck is both actor and weakling too, and the pressure is unbearable sometimes god i need a beer

A hint of self-mockery in this one:

do I write poetry? or do I type it? self-loathing, pachelbel in d-major is all I amout to defined by other's praise? questions and logical answers, and 5 second's worth of tears I suppose that will last me for another year maybe i should write something when I'm happy next time..

Hehe, just as I was about to click publish, I found one more poem in there:

should i post my shit on the internet? it's raw, and probably bad. or should I say, not good. at least its honest, though that's probably what scares me. I guess i'll keep it on the ol' hard drive.