Narrator's rants en life

When it's 12 at night and your just thinking

Why do I enjoy writing.

Is it the simple pleasure of holding a world that I have created in my own mind? Allowing anyone to see my creation and to feel the world that is being formed by events that takes place in them. Each scene always meaning something, each word always edited to its uttermost perfection. I, a crappy writer with dyslexia and speech impediment has never been taught the format of grammar, so I had to self-teach myself when it comes to those issues. What seams easy for you may seem impossible for me to understand due to my brain lacking the skill to understand it.

However my ideas and characters usually overpower, or if not change that to make it less of an issue. Again each world I create with each character represents a big issue underlying a real issue in the world.

The Lesser theme shows an abnormal hero who is tasked with stopping abnormal things from ruining his last home. Les, the main character loses his home due to such abnormal events, and is trying to prevent that from ever happening again.

Les represents a past of strife, and the abnormal events represents our past creeping up into our present minds. Les trying to tread away from his past is always reminded through the job that he does, that no matter what he does the past will weigh down on him. But Les doesn't keep it that way, as he knows that is not a wise way to live your life. Les finds that in order to live with the sins he has committed, he must love the job that is forcing him to always be reminded of his horrid past.

The overall theme of the Lesser is: The path that you have made in the past is set in stone, and it will shape what is ahead of you for the rest of your life. The question is how are you going to walk that path.

Les does not walk the path with solemn and remorse. But with the idea that a new world is open to him, a second chance is handed down upon his hands, and he must make things right, and never walk the road he has walked in the past before. He prevents people from taking the same road he has once taken, and adjust people to go into their right directions. By stopping abnormal things from happening in his new town, Les shows that he doesn't want his world to become like he once was.

The abnormal events are the things that tears apart the pathways we travel, and so Les is trying to pave the roads for a better and safer life.

That is why I write the Lesser.

One, cause I love the world he is apart of, and I love Les as a character. Cause people can interpose their own meanings to his character

Two, cause the meaning of the story in a nutshell says, "Don't go repeating history, and don't let others repeat it as well"

Sounds like a simply thing, but Les shows later in the story what happens if you allow others to repeat history, and that is where I'll leave you off.

What do I see when I write?

I'll paint you a picture on exactly what I think of before writing anything.

I see a black room with letters floating all around my head. Each one constantly changing with each idea I put into my head. At this current moment, I am writing this while closing my eyes. I see colors and the world that I have thought of to write. And words still float around this world. Constantly changing these words are. Each with the same definitions but all put into a new style, a new way of wording it. It shifts with each passing idea that floats through my imaginary dream.

And thus I'll write you this.

One must be able to dream of what you are writing, and become apart of this world you form inside your mind. One must caculate the characters emoitions based on past information you have ever collected.

For example, I walk outside and challenge myself to discripe a new scene that I am experiencing. Not looking at the clouds type of deal, I mean a new look on the world. I'll pull this from meory and write it for you.

The clouds shrouds over the church that stands on top of the hill, where children laugh and parents watch with special intent. None of them know what could happen to these kids upon leaving the small patch of green grass the church stands upon. For where will the kids go when the foundations underneath their feet is taken away from them, and all they could do is go the their parents, and rest in their comforting arms. All while I sit on the bench at the bottom of the hill, relizing that I may be like the kid, waiting for the writing of my world to sweep me off my feet into a plain that I can only imagine within my mind.