“The sword of Gerzeanam…”

I finally saw some of my cousin’s 20 year old daughter’s writing. Evidently she is somewhere on the Fan Fiction Plus app, but refuses to give up her screen name to her mother. My cousin finally succeeded in getting some pages out of her so I could read a bit of her writing…

Free Stock Photo: Illustration of a medieval castle.
Free Stock Photo: Illustration of a medieval castle.

When I read it yesterday, I almost fell out of my chair. I won’t share any of it here because I don’t have permission, but this is my pathetic impersonation of what I saw opening one chapter. In no way does it do her writing full credit:

The sword of Gerzeanam had been sought for six human millennia, which was but a blink in the eye of time for the Dermuts. They had dwelled outside of the White City at the edge of the White Rock of All Eternity and near the ferocious stream of Augussies for at least that long. Astrios knew, however, that their exile must soon end…

Seriously, I just made that up in the last few minutes. As you can see, that’s also not my writing thing. I can’t write that sort of a story and never could.

I hated English class in school when we had to write and/or read stories like that. I never read them in my “free” time when I was a teen and young adult. Just my personal taste: they never really interested me. When I was a teen my mother once teased me that I had no imagination: I was “a [realist] puddle,” she laughed, while other kids “are clouds.”

My cousin noted that she can’t even follow it to read it. She gets lost after about two pages. As we went back and forth on Messenger about it, my cousin also explained more to me about how a couple of years ago she had been discussing her daughter’s writing with my (now late) novelist uncle (whose name I’ve edited out below) and he had told her, basically, to leave her daughter alone:

Screen capture of Messenger, 17 November 2016.
Screen capture of Messenger, 17 November 2016.

As you also may have noticed above, her daughter has Juvenile Diabetes – where regular insulin shots are needed and all sorts of other allowances for the condition must be made in order to live an ordinary life. I remember when she developed it at around age three. No one in our family had ever had that before and the news distressed everyone. My mother, I recall, was terribly upset.

But my cousin and her husband faced it (what other choice did they have?), and their daughter has grown up well and is an excellent college student. And, wow, can she write. Leaving aside any effort at calm detachment, in one exchange going right to the point I messaged my cousin: “Holy Sh-t! She has some imagination!”

Speaking also of sharp and to the point, my wife is reading another “Jack Reacher” novel. This one is entitled, uh, Go Home, or Run There, or Leave It, or something like that…

[Photo by me, 2016.]
[Photo by me, 2016.]

Anyway, I opened it yesterday to this passage:

From
From “Make Me,” a Lee Child “Jack Reacher” novel. [Photo by me, 2016.]

Definitely another type of writing style. πŸ˜‰

Back to my own now. Have a good day, wherever you are in the world. πŸ™‚

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