Bleh: Sick, instead of writing, spot the female.

Finding new and inventive ways to throw up. No writing update today.

 Instead, here is a challange.

Only one of these individuals is a female. Can you spot the female?
Answers tomorrow.

Part 5: A new style of writing, sneaking in my daily update just in time.

So I sat down and did a lot of thinking. I reread everything I wrote several times. I felt stuff lacking, like character. A unique sense of perspective from each. They all sounded kind of the same. I decided to be braver, more aggressive in how I write from their perspectives. It feels better, but I hope it actually is better. (feel free to tell me which). This way I hope, each character will have their own voice, and shit will be less melodramatic.

Here is the next scene, in the new style. Note that Maruk is much more sarcastic and flippant. He'll be like this all book (and I'll go back and rewrite the old stuff if this all works, each character will have their own thing of course) so this would normally not be such a sudden change. Here it is...does it work for you?

      Maruk

My eyes opened. I wish they hadn’t. A blaze of incandescent light burned my retinas. I franticly cupped my hands over my eyes. I’d have to invent a new swearword for this occasion; this hurt in a new and unique way. Too. Bright.

“FUSSSHK!” I screamed incoherently.

Not very original, but it’d do for now. Rubbing my eyes tenderly, the raging throb slowly started to subside after a couple of moments. Sucking in a deep breath, I decided to give it another try.

I opened my eyes. I wish I hadn’t.

“SHIT!” I roared.

When swearword invention didn’t work, I went back to tried and tested originals. I rolled on the ground again, my head in new worlds of agony. I didn’t dare open my eyes again. I think I was learning.

Comfortable with not being able to see anything for the moment, I slid my hands on the ground. The floor felt smooth to the touch, with strange whorls and shapes present in the surface. My fingers ran along the patterns. I could smell no rust. Odd. I craned my ears to hear anything. There was just the faint sound of rain pattering somewhere far away.

I was out of options. Holding a hand to cover my eyes, I peered out cautiously.

I had never seen such a beautiful sight.

Dazzling bright white light played along the black iron surface of the giant room. A chandelier hung about my head, its crystal beads refracting the light in unusual angles. There was an aged and grainy round table in the center of the room. Was it made out of wood? I crawled a short distance and scratched it slightly gingerly with a fingernail. Yeah, it was wood.

The entire table was made of it. The amount of concentrated wealth that table contained evaded my imagination for a moment. I could buy a top end TU car with that. I could buy two. Then I could fill it with high grade steel weapons. I’d still have plenty left over.

This was bloody unbelievable.  

The walls of the room where draped in majestic tapestries. Each one of them detailing a legend of the Goddess. I focused on the fabric in front of me, which contained every colour I could imagine, shimmering fabrics intertwined. The Goddess stood, holding an orb of Gathari in her hands, shining bright, a sea of inky darkness all around her. All the people of Narsis reached out to her, a savior.

The legend of the Long Dark, as it was called. I remembered the story well. My father had-

A sudden surge of violent emotion rose in me. I took it and buried it. It was gone.

My father had told me all the stories I knew about Narsis. I remembered the story of the Long Dark well. It was one of my favorites.

When the Goddess found Narsis, there was no electricity running through the streets. There was only a dark city. The people, who came from the Land of the Sun, wailed at the darkness. Their fear overtook them. They started to burn everything they could to produce precious light. Wood, then clothes, then…people. There was much bloodshed. The Goddess spent weeks searching for a solution to the Long Dark. Finally, after a long journey into the depths of the city, she found it. Gathari. With a prowess unmatched to this day, the Goddess used the powers of Gathari to flood the city with light forever. United once again, order was restored. The Goddess made a new society, and promised that till the end of time, the lights in Narsis would never go out.

It was a simple story, but it spoke to me. A savior, saving everyone from their own savage nature. It was noble and brave. How things should be.

Pity it was complete shit. Lies spread to reinforce the Faceless one’s rule. If there was any shred of truth to the legend, which I doubted, then things went really wrong after that. ‘Everyone uniting together in the light’ became ‘Stomping everyone weaker in the face until they obey you’. Figures.

There were many other stories lining the walls. All beautifully depicted. It was slightly unnerving. Like my Father’s tongue has just unrolled itself into a canvas, all his tales turned into images made from bright fabric.  

Suddenly, I realized I was naked. A cool gust of wind alerted me to the fact. I stood up, turning to see the door to the room open. The raincoat woman stood there…without a raincoat. Instead she wore a soft robe of green, and useless, but pretty slippers. For the first time I took a good look at her.

Sharp face. Brown eyes. Small and thin. Cute, pouting mouth. Short, spiky black hair. All in all, not your typical female clad in a thick coat, biceps thicker than my arms and a sword raised violently in my direction.

I stared at her for a long moment. She quietly stared back. I wasn’t afraid. I hadn’t been since I was a child listening to Father’s old stories.

“Uh, let’s get you something to wear shall we?” she said hurriedly, blushing. She threw me a spare robe of hers that was draped over her arm. I slipped it on, surprisingly, it fit me fine. We were similar in size.

“Any lasting pain?” she asked. I stopped, running my hand along my chest. My ribs were intact. So was everything else in fact.

What the fuck?

--

Part 4: Writing from this morning. Beating up writer's block.

I was completely blocked today with zero inspiration. I still wrote, yeah! Yeah everything I wrote so far will need serious reworking, editing and rewriting. But getting it on the page is a whole lot better than nothing at all. Also, I need to end my love affair with adverbs. Adverbs...bad..must kill!

  

Daina

Shit, there was going to be a ton of paperwork.

The body of Lydia Savar lay at my feet. Her eyes gaping open at the sky. The murder of a B-class was serious business, and the Savar were part of the Royal. Unless this was sorted out quickly, there was going to be pressure from big girls at the top. I briefly rubbed my temples, this growing headache wasn’t helping. Someone was going to the mines for this, and I had to make sure it wasn’t someone who didn’t deserve it.

The corpse was relatively fresh, maybe a few hours, if that. Thanks to the recent heavy rain, a lot of evidence had washed away. I waved my hand to the Enforcers gathered in the alley.

“Spread out and seal access to the area. Look for anything useful.”

I bent down, carefully examining the neck. The poor woman had died quickly, her jugular and carotid severed. The angles of the two cuts were jagged at an upward angle. It looked like the assailant was much shorter than Lydia. Possibly a man, but unlikely given the strength of the cuts. This murder had taken place during the curfew cycle. What was Lydia doing out so late, and how did the assailant know about it? Whatever this was, there was planning involved.

Still on my haunches, I moved over and lifted her right foot. There was obvious scarring of the metal underside, and a few tiny streaks of blood. I smiled, Lydia fought back. I knew from her file Lydia had an ex-Enforcer background. She had never forgotten her training. Losing one of our own gave me a bad feeling. None of the women here were going to relax until we’d found the bastard that done this.

I took a small vial out of my jacket pocket, scraping some of the blood off her boot with my pocketknife. With a planned B-Class murder, getting the Oracles to take a look at this might be possible. It raised the stakes even higher though. There needed to be a result from this investigation.

“Sharifa,” said one of my squad mates, addressing me by my title, “I think I’ve found something, take a look.”

I walked over, grabbing the torn piece of fabric from her gloved hand. I took a careful look at it, holding the fabric up to the electric light. A sheen of green glinted. With a tremble of anticipation I recognized it.

This was Enforcer issue gear, and the green weave designated it as part of the Vem family. There could be no coincidence; this was too deep in Savar territory for that. Vem… new money, new power. This could be a rogue or something planned by the entire family. Putting the piece of fabric in my pocket, I held my head up to the endless drizzle, feeling the spots against my face. I broke into a smile. I had plenty of leads, and lots of questions to ask, but whoever killed this woman, I’d find them. That was certain.

This case just got interesting.

Character sketch: Daina

Daina is an Enforcer. She keeps rule and law in Narsis, and captures and punishes those who disobey. She has been trained for combat all her life, but showed a flair for investigative work that quickly moved her up the ranks. Daina believes in the current system, not that it is perfect, but that it is necessary in a very harsh world. She has attained wealth and respect despite being only a C-Class in purity. Daina believes in hard work and dedication to achieve her goals.


Daina has a husband and son, both which she has a close relationship with. She loves her family dearly and would die for them in an instant. Daina has the ability to compartmentalize, keeping the sometimes brutal life of an Enforcer separate from her family life. For her, keeping her family safe and the city stable, is worth the trauma of some of the things she needs to do in the line of duty. She is often faced with complex moral decisions, but she tries to navigate them as responsibly as possible, all the while keeping in mind the big picture and the greater good.


Daina is set to hunt down and 'process' Maruk for the injustice he has done. If she doesn't, both she and her family could suffer. Not only that, but Maruk has done the unacceptable, by killing someone with so much power and connections he has defied the system and all it stands for.

Part 3: Continuation of my work today

Carried on writing stuff this afternoon. Its the first day off work I've had in 12 days. So plenty of time to write and relax. I'm loving writing and constantly thinking about the book, even if I'm just taking baby steps now, and its all so rough and unpolished. Lots of fun.

                 Maruk

I opened my eyes. A wheezing sound came from my chest when I tried to breathe. It hurt.

‘Are you all right?” said a piping voice. Fighting my throbbing headache, I squinted to see the small pale face of a young woman looking at me. She looked right at me, her brown eyes making direct contact. I held her gaze for three seconds and then looked away. I burst into a cough, blood running down my chin.

‘I think that answers your question’ I said in a strangled voice. This woman in the oversized raincoat would likely turn me in to the Enforcers, or worse, the Royal. My chances weren’t good.  The rain was no longer pounding on my back. I lifted my head momentarily to see she’d dragged me under the side awning of the street. The woman herself was standing in an oversized raincoat. She looked silly, her head just barely poking out of the folds. She was quite small for a female, roughly my size, and much younger than me.

The lifeless body of Lydia Savar still lied on the street, eyes locked open in death. Her throat was quite obviously sliced open.

‘So, what happened here exactly boy?” said the woman, bending down and looking at me curiously. She had a disconcerting habit of staring at me without looking away. There was something odd about this one. I quickly threw myself into a lie,

‘Well, I was walking along the street when she jumped me. I tried to defend myself but she beat me up pretty good. I was barely conscious, but I managed to take her blade and slice her in the neck before-,” my words trailed away, as the raincoat woman burst into uncontrollable mirth. “Such a good liar. I can hardly tell!” she giggled, clapping her hands together with delight. “But your story is such a shamble!”

A thin pale hand popped out of the voluminous raincoat, pointing at the corpse.

“There are slice marks from either side, so either you the fastest person ever, or you were using two weapons at once. Not to mention that she’s wearing a red scarf, which means she’s a finance administrator. Savar B-Class, I checked her wrist.” Her finger snapped towards the nearby building, “This is the finance office for the Savar family; so thus” now it rose in the air triumphantly,” she was walking out of the building as part of her usual schedule when you attacked her! How am I doing so far boy?” she said with broad smile full of pearly white teeth.

If I could’ve moved my arms, I would’ve wiped that arrogant smirk off her face and snapped her neck. Then I would’ve run franticly away in the opposite direction. This was bad, very bad. I had been caught murdering a B-Class. I was going straight to the mines. I liked my eyes still in their sockets. I closed them for a moment, shuddering about the horror stories I’d heard. I had failed the Driver. Having my eyes removed and my sanity shattered like an egg in the mines wasn’t an option.

I tried with all my energy to stand up, to get my body working in some way. The result ended me flopping pathetically on the street, barely upright as I slowly got on my knees, gasping in pain. I fingered the trigger mechanism for my wrist-blade, slowly pulling my hand towards my temple. One press and the blade would shoot straight into my skull.

I shut my eyes and pressed the button.

At the last moment, the raincoat woman grabbed my wrist, yanking it away from my head. My blade shot out and cut my cheek, a welt of blood oozing out.

‘I’m not done with you yet!” she shouted. She wasn’t very strong, but she held my arm in place. I was weaker than a child right now. I snarled in frustration, at my powerlessness, at my failure. I wasn’t even able to kill myself.

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” I roared with as much venom as I could muster. The effort made me dizzy. I collapsed back flat onto the ground.

“You not allowed to talk to me like that!” she proclaimed in a shrill voice. I realized, as a fuzziness started to creep into my body, that unless I got serious medical attention, I would doubtless be dead soon anyway. The thought comforted me.

I looked up into those brown eyes of her again, unable to suppress a grin. My last act of defiance; I sucked up all the blood in my mouth and spat out a thick wad, spraying her right in the face. She wailed, her small hands franticly wiping away at the gore. She looked at me with a confused look, I didn’t blame her. You could see she was the rich type. Clueless. At least I had taught her a less-

Two small hands, curled into fists, violently interrupted my thoughts.

Varis

He slumped back to the ground. My hands hurt. I quickly wiped the rest of the gross stuff off my face as best I could. I had never needed to hit anything before, but he just wouldn’t shut up!

I stood for a moment, the roar of the rain all around me. I was alone again, his body breathing only slightly. This was all crazy. A boy killing a B was outrageous. Still, it’s not like anyone cared about the Savar. I rolled my eyes, a second rate family at best. Still, I was intrigued. I had never met anybody like this boy before. He seemed unfathomable, unpredictable.

Definitely, I was going to keep him. This was far too interesting to just walk away from. I needed to know more about all of this. Anyway, he hadn’t told me why he’d tried to kill her yet.

I took out my orb of Gathari, about the size of my fist. Its silvery metal sheen swirled in my hand, ever ready to respond to my thoughts. Mother told me it was the most valuable thing I would ever own, that no matter what, I should always keep it on me and never lose it. It was a beautiful thing. I loved holding it in my hands.

Concentrating for a moment, I stared deep into the orb. Instantly I felt the connection, a million minds merging with mine. Bring him I told the orb. Two thick lines sprang out of my orb, curling around the boy’s shoulders. The rest of the Gathari wrapped itself around my arm and merged into my skin. The liquid shined bright in the dark; glistening with its silver beauty.  I started dragging his body along with me, his weight now a feather as slowly, this strange boy in tow; I surged through the rain towards my home, the Spire. All around me, bells started to toll. A new wake cycle had begun.

Part 2: Stuff I wrote today at around midnight.

Did a story-boarding with my father for several hours. Together we outlined the overarching plot and plan for the book. He was wonderful in helping me get unstuck in two particular parts, also he has a crazy imagination, which is great. Punching through writing like this without hesitation is weird, but kinda fun, I don't have to worry as much how 'good' it is. I can just relax, it can be bad, it can be good, as long as I write more!

To the several people who promised to keep reading my entries and my developing story, you guys are fantastic, and it really helps with my motivation to keep writing no matter what. As I put in entries I'll be throwing in pictures I find via google image search that feel to me like a scene from what I write or the overall themes of Narsis. If you come across anything cool, or are good at art and want to draw some stuff for the blog feel free to throw me your material. Here is more stuff I wrote:

                                                  

Varis

The perfume encircled me like a vice grip. A cloying smell of woody musk; with a faint hint of rose and pepper. The room was full of officials, their bight coloured garments and eager chatter all passing me unattended. I felt smothered.

My mother Salik sat at the head of the table. Tiny in stature, she was hardly larger than me at sixteen years old; her small body contained a nearly limitless focus and an intense dedication. Her face had a light web of wrinkles that careened across her face like threads of oil in water. It reflected the madness in her eyes, her hunger for power.

“Silence” said Salik in a measured tone. The sound in the room snapped shut. My mother was A class purity, like me. Salik took a moment to study the women assembled at the giant iron table we were seated at. She held the quiet just long enough that they all shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“The problems with my gathari shipments has to stop. The revolts from the Punished are getting out of hand. If you don’t fix this mess there will be consequences.”  She threw a meaningful look at Telari, the head of the mining division. Telari visibly paled.

“Mistress” Telari stammered. “You don’t understand the situation. With all the-”

“Excuses are not appreciated, my dear,” Salik interrupted smoothly. “In the Vem family, we operate on results. Do we have an understanding?”

Telari’s mouth hung open stupidly for a moment, then she nodded dumbly. “Now, on to the matter of our accounts. I think there’s much we can do to improve operational efficiency…”

I cast a bored look to my bodyguard Kesia. She stood behind me, her tall muscular frame dwarfing mine. She gave me a wink, the proceedings tiring her as much as they did me. On a whim I stood up. The attention of the table turned to me. I made people nervous, I had all my life.

“Varis my dear” said my Mother amiably, “please do sit down.” Mother barely batted an eyelid, and her voice was perfectly smooth and modulated, but I could tell she was absolutely furious.

“I’m going out, Mother,” I said with a sweet smile. I turned around and walked towards the exit of the room, Kesia following loyally at my side. Mother tapped her long index finger on the iron table three times. Her only outward display of anger. She had spent years mastering public appearances. Of all the people at this table, I was the only one she couldn’t command. My blood purity was higher. She’d make me pay for this later, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be out of this ugly bureaucratic room.

“Varis,” I heard her call cheerily after me. “We’ll talk later.” Each word was pregnant with implied threat.

I shrugged with my back to her, pushing my luck. Quickly I walked out of the reception room, feeling the (likely) burning gaze of my Mother drilling a hole through my shoulder blades. She was quite the control freak.

I walked into the iron hallway, the grand entrance to the structure that was home to my family, the Spire. Mother told me it was the tallest building in Narsis. The other Royal families would have statues of powerful women, ancestors who ruled Narsis years ago. My family Vem’s was empty. My Mother was its founder. We were the first family to join the Royal since it was founded. Our entrance hall was instead decorated with tapestries and ironwork. Everything in the Spire was covered in the stuff. It all looked rather ugly.

I gave a nod to the two guards standing at the door. They immediately hauled open the heavy iron door that kept the rain at bay. I was greeted by a torrential downpour beating into the street. I gasped. I’d never been out in such dangerous weather before. I smiled with delight.

“Leave” I said to the guards. They saluted and walked swiftly off. Kesia opened her mouth to ask her usual question. I waved her mouth shut.

“I’ll be fine Kes, I’ve been going out alone for a while now. Don’t worry.”

Kesia looked at me grumpily. She was my best (and only) friend, but I needed to escape this place. I needed to leave everything behind me. It was too claustrophobic in here.

Wrapping Kesia’s thick raincoat around my body which was far too big for me, I walked headfirst into the downpour.

Character sketch: Varis

Varis was born in a unique position of power in the society of Narsis. A blood purity well above even A class, Varis has legal authority over the vast majority of people that live in the city, and wields a potentially staggering amount of power. As an adolescent, Varis feels very isolated. Everyone she interacts with either resents her or serves her mindlessly, and the ability to create a human connection with anyone is difficult.


Varis carries with her a natural naive innocence, compounded by the fact that she has had wealth and service at her fingertips all her life. While her mother is a ruthless and savvy political figure their relationship is strained at best due to Varsis's high blood purity.


While Varis is physically not as powerful as most other women, she has a formidable talent for manipulating Gathari, and as as such is potentially very deadly.

Part 1: My first written stuff from last night. Rough and unedited.

 

                                         

Maruk

It was raining heavily again. It always rained in this city. The water seeped into everything. No matter where you were you could smell the rust. Narsis was filled with the stench corroded iron. You could never get rid of it.

I wrapped my long-coat tightly around me as I stepped into the torrent. She would be exiting the finance office now.

She was walking along the street alone. A scarf of red silk wrapped around her face to protect her from the rain. She was tall and muscular, standing well over six feet tall. That scarf was worth more than I earned in a year. I broke in a smile; I didn’t do this for the money.

Without thinking I slipped into her walking pattern, mirroring her steps. With the roaring sound of the rain it was unnecessary. There was no way she was going to hear me. People told me I was a natural.

The wrist-blades slid into my hands. I pressed my thumbs along the blades, enjoying the bite against my skin. My pace increased as the scarf grew larger. Her boots giving a faint clang against the iron street. Mistresses lined their boots with metal for kicking subordinates. I was no longer a subordinate. My heartbeat was still steady, my gaze focused on the red scarf around her neck. She was blooded at B-purity. My highest profile mark yet. I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a slight shiver of excitement that crawled up my arms like a lizard.

Her walking pace had increased. Suddenly feeling a lurch of panic, I realized that she would soon be around the corner, out of the rain and too near her car for me to do anything quietly.

I broke into a run. Trusting in the roaring sound of the rain I sped along towards her, keeping my body low and compact. My wrist-blades sung out to their full length. Reaching her in a few jagged instants, I sprang in the air and swung my arms in a circle, blades arcing around to envelop her scarfed neck, aiming to open up her throat in one motion.

Man, I can be really stupid sometimes.

I felt a metal boot pound into my ribcage with the force of a jackhammer. I tumbled onto the ground in a crumpled heap. My face banging and sliding against the iron surface of the street. I was briefly aware of that terrible taste of rust mixed with blood in my mouth. I tried to move and felt sharp pain, probably something very broken.

Lydia Savar laughed a full throaty laugh amidst the gale of wind and rain. It carried like a song along the street, mocking my previous efforts to silence it. My vision was blurry with pain. All I could feel was water falling on my face. I heard the metallic clang of her slow, measured footsteps coming nearer. My hands gripped my wrist-blades so hard blood started to run down my wrists and along my arms.

Everything slowed down. My pain was still there; my body a broken heap, but it no longer controlled me. My mind felt again the clarity I had when I was stalking her, when I was in control. My pain was just another obstacle. My breathing, once gasping and uneven became smooth and steady. My vision cleared. I saw Lydia walking into view, looming above me, impossibly tall. Her scarf was loose, blowing red trails in the wind. I looked at her; her cold blue eyes looked at mine. I realized for the first time just how beautiful she really was. A cruel beauty. We held each other’s gaze for a moment, the rain falling unheard around me.

Her boot rose as if in slow motion, its destination; my head. All my energy was coiled. I had no fear, no pain left in me. As the boot descended towards my skull I jerked my head out of the way with an inch to spare. The boot screamed against the ground, ringing in my ears. I swung to my feet, trusting my broken body to support me for a few moments. As she whipped around, her fist swung at my chest with years of trained accuracy. I stood and waited, there was no way I could dodge her blow, it was far too fast.

I never planned to dodge it. Grinning manically I gripped onto her shoulders as tightly as I could.

As her fist smashed into my chest. I heard some of my ribs crack. Using the momentum of her strike my body swung up into the air, my wrist-blades smoothly jutting into her neck from either side with incredible force. I heard her gargle as she clutched her neck. She gave me one last desperate look of surprise. Her beautiful blue eyes were alive for one final moment.

Then we both collapsed, our bodies like abandoned dolls. As my consciousness rapidly retreated I was aware of the rain beating relentlessly on my body, the stench of corroded iron and blood in my nostrils. Really, it all smelled the same.

It always rained in this city.

Character sketch: Maruk

Maruk. The main character of the novel. Maruk is a man who comes from the repressed lower class most men come from in the world. He has 'liberated' himself in some fashion by becoming an assassin for a figure only known as the Driver. He hunts down and kills targets supplied by the Driver. By doing so he believes he will help bring down the oppressive system the Royal control.


The Driver saw something in Maruk that made him special, something that makes him uniquely talented for his work. Maruk is damaged in his own way, and struggles to feel real emotions, or any sort of emotion, deeply. This makes him a natural at killing people, since he can do so without remorse.


Maruk likes to fight with concealed spring-loaded wristblades. He is also highly socially adept, but everything he does is not genuine. He is a chameleon, adapting to survive but not very assertive of his own core personality.  


However, for all his dispassion, Maruk is an idealist. He dreams of a better world, where people are treated equally, a place where life makes more sense.

I started writing last night

I've decided to dedicate my spare time to writing. My current aim is to get my first book published. I just started last night, but I'm going to be writing every day, and updating what I write on this blog.

My name is Richard West. I'm twenty four and I've always loved books, fantasy, writing, myth and science fiction. I work in a bookstore, which is kind of cool. I am currently studying Drama and English, without much of a purpose to my life besides getting a job and focusing on interesting stuff in my spare time. That used to be computer games, but I feel that's become a creative hole I throw all my energy into. I think by throwing all my energy into writing I'll get something out of it, something tangible. This writing is in the end, for myself, I'm not trying to make money. But if a few people like the material (especially the edited, polished final copy) that would be great.

Its a world well established in my mind. Narsis. I had a very detailed dream/nightmare about it and it sort of grew in my mind after that, like cancer. The details of the world and how it works are very clear in my mind. What I need to do now is create a story that can actually interest people and also explain enough of my world that it intrigues, but not that it confuses them completely or feels over-explained/overwrought.I have a bad habit I think, of over-describing things and overwriting. I  also need to be less 'on the nose'.

Some woman in Narsis might look a bit like this.

I will share with you what I write on a daily basis. No matter how bad or good it is I will pound my way through the story and just force myself to write, not that I don't love writing, but sometimes you hit walls.

I'm not trying to be famous or anything, but I do want to improve as a writer. So feel free to say whatever you want about it, you can be as nasty or nice as you want. I'll talk about my daily difficulties in writing, and what I am learning and discovering as I go along.  

If you have any requests of any kind of what you want me to add to the blog you are welcome. I'm a pretty open-minded guy, and am willing to try out any strange and wonderful idea you might have. I also have a camera, but no naked pictures! 

This photo captures the feeling of the city Narsis.