Some days, the words just won’t be written. The novel is hiding in a far-off land, the plot is taking the day off. On those days, you take the elevator to the top floor of your school’s library, let go of your expectations, and simply write for fun. Sometimes, writer’s blocks need to be written around. Sometimes you need to remind yourself how to connect your brain to your fingers to the keyboard. Sometimes you need to remind your fingertips how to sing their melody as they tap the rhythm of a story.
Somedays, you don’t get any noveling done, but you fall a little more in love with the power of writing. Somedays, that’s all you need.
I’d love to now share with you a little thing I wrote: Libraries and Dragons. It’s not really a short story – more like an essay in an imaginary world. It hasn’t really been edited; it’s not going to win any awards. But I love it anyways, and this little tiny piece reminded me that writing is a sort of magic that I adore. So. Enjoy.
One last note: the first paragraph is a note to myself. But it’s kinda a part of the piece, so I left it there.
Alright, brain. You’ve had your coffee, now write your words. Forget the product, the answer, the perfection. Write the words. The words are the only thing you care about. The words, the words, the words.
All libraries are living things. Picture them dragons, if you will. They’re not dragons – no, they’re nowhere near as polite as dragons – but picture them dragons for a minute. They’re really quite similar if you think about it.
The largest of the dragons are the Nightmares, ancient things, all black scales and blazing eyes, huge leathery wings that haven’t tasted night air in centuries but would blanket the world in darkness if they were opened. These dragons are like the Great Old Libraries. The libraries that now only exist in faraway lands and are in danger of disappearing entirely. Most people only see pictures of them on Pinterest. But a picture can’t capture the smell of thousands of souls, aging away together for centuries until their stories are all intertwined.
The next in size are your Sea Dragons – not really dragons, per say. (Although never try telling a Sea Serpent that she’s not a real dragon; it will be the last thing you say.) These represent your – uh – electronic libraries. Provided for you by deities such as the great River-God Amazon. Do they count as real libraries? Can a book still be a book if it’s pixels instead of paper? Can a dragon still be a dragon if she doesn’t breathe fire?
The next largest in size are the Green Giants. It’s said that they like to impersonate hills, curling up for years on end, covering themselves in dirt blankets, letting green grass feel at home on top of their already emerald scales. These are the noble dragons, quick to come to the aid of needy kingdoms, quicker still to deliver justice to those who betray their trust. These are like College Libraries. They come in many shapes and sizes, but most are light-filled and shiny, always being renovated and repaired, full of bustling students and sleepy sunshine. If you’re not careful with them, they’ll suck you away and you’ll never be seen again.
Then you’ve your Common Dragons – your Public Libraries. They come in all shapes, sizes, textures, and colors, each full of their own magic. First there’s the fast-growing White Dragon, which is full size in six months, and eats only vegetation. These are the shiny new public libraries, such as you’ll find in any suburbia: spacious and brimming, with smiling librarians and fast wi-fi. Second, you have the Blue Gypsies – these smaller dragons are known for speaking in verse and giving directions (usually in rhyming couplets) to those who have lost their way. These are represented by those quaint, compact little libraries you’ll find in small towns. Candles of light and knowledge for the weary traveler come home.
Finally, we come to the Hound Dragons, named for their small size and dog-like trainability. These are the most popular species to keep as pets, as they are quite happy to nest indoors, and also will follow humans with unwavering devotion if they are treated fairly. The males are deep purple and the females are scarlet, and they have clever faces, bright eyes, and nimble talons. Their smaller wings are only practical for short-distance flying, and they prefer climbing, hoping, and bounding with short bursts of flight, unmistakably like large grasshoppers. These dragons are like Home Libraries. Some are quite small, some are more impressive; some are old, and some are filled with crisp new spines. Like the Hound Dragons, home libraries tend to reflect the nature of their owners, and one can learn a great deal about what sort of house one is in simply by examining either the dragon or the library. If a house is missing one or both, it is recommended that you exit the premises as soon as possible, as the home may be prone to Nargle infestation.
There you have it: hopefully this discussion will help you in the future, either when dealing with the winged beasts or the book-filled creatures.