I am the weird one in my family. I’m not the rebel, well not really. Nor am I the wild child, though at times I would like to be. Instead, I’m the individual who just not except the status quo. I do not follow the religious views I had been taught, nor do I accept the narrow minded views of the small town that I live in. I’m the person that kind of sits quietly in the corner, speaks when spoken to, and observes and catalogs everything.
What it means is I keep my head down and I stay quiet in groups around here. People here just don’t like someone questioning their views of what is and always has been.
So what has led to this post today is my ShockTotem entry for this month. As I said in my last post, the subject was Carnival and well, my writing took on one of those turns that only my mind takes once in a while.
Its kind of clear I don’t follow the status quo, so why should my writing? It is part of the reason I write fantasy, its okay to let your mind run wild with odd turns and twists. But this one is a bit closer to home than many of the subjects.
It is kind of clear now that I will be expanding on this story sometime in the future. I wrote down the basic premise last night, and I think I’ll keep doing that until I know what I am going to write. And heck, its probably been done so many times before it’s cliche, but I don’t really care.
So what is the idea of the story. It’s a twist on the basic Christian religion but in a way that leaves the teachings intact. It has to do with demons, murder and power over others. Its a psychological fantasy horror that I don’t feel up to touching just yet. I will write out the ideas, the poor sheep that humans are, the vampires that feed on their lives, and the chosen few who struggle to keep humanity going until they can finally break free.
This is not going to be a long story, well, I hope not. We shall see. I was not expecting to open up another door to a world like this. Its a bleakness a darkness and rambling existence that leads only to death with only a few spots of life. It holds little love, only toil until death.
I was not expecting this, with my plate already full of stories. But I am tucking this one away, because its fragile, newly hatched, and will one day soar.