I’ve been bad this past week about updating my NaNoWriMo word count, I know.  Between work, school, and my dog having to visit the vet for the third time this month, I simply did not have the time to do much of anything.  I have been writing when I could fit it in, but in all cases I had no access to the internet, which is perhaps why I’ve been so productive.  For the curious, my word count has reached 41,243 words, and I intend to add more to that number today in between homework breaks and an evening with my dog and my girlfriend.

While looking around my other blog for location inspirations, I stumbled across a piece of writing that I had surprisingly not shared here.  It’s a bit old (written in July 2010), but I really liked it and was frankly thrilled that one of the pieces I wrote for an old RPG hadn’t been lost.  So I’m posting it here for you guys.  I call it ‘Inspiration.’

Why is it that when inspiration strikes, if you do not immediately write it down upon a piece of paper it then slips away like air through any crack?  Why is it so impatient to be realized?  Indeed, can it not see that there are times when paper and pen cannot be reached for at least 5 or ten minutes?  No, it cannot.  Instead, words slip through the mind, into being, and then evaporate like raindrops on desert rocks.  They seep into the membranes, leaving an impression, a memory, but the water is already gone.  That is how it is with inspiration.

A silver goblet, however, does not understand inspiration.  As a matter of fact, it could never know the intimate details of a world that drips into every fiber of an artistic, living being.  A goblet cannot imagine the feeling of losing inspiration, because it cannot imagine at all.  Selection, however, was natural.  Selection was key.  It was in every molecule of its very existence.  Naturally, to select, the gift to choose has been given; and, to choose, a selector must be permitted to see and compare. 

Handwriting was an interesting thing.  It changed from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute depending upon the writer’s mood and time constraints.  While looking sloppy, handwriting can look both educated and uneducated based upon the size and steadiness of loops and lines.  It can appear angry and violent, or sweet and simpering.  Impressive for inanimate letters, don’t you think? 

The chalice has seen, and indeed chosen over the years, many hesitant hands, bold strokes, shaky letterings, and all kinds of emotional script set down on paper, so carefully quilled for something about to be burned quite possibly forever.  For so often, only three entrants will actually be chosen out of so many possibilities…

For those who want more background on this piece, it was written for a alternate universe Hogwarts RPG, in which no canon character from JK Rowling’s series had ever existed (except the Hogwarts founders, of course) and the Triwizard Tournament was just about to take place.  I forget the character I wrote this for, but as you wouldn’t recognize the name anyway, I’m not sure it matters.

Thank you for reading, and may you have a lovely day!


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