Jan 16 2007
fruitful
“The earth beneath Taerith’s feet sank as he crept over it, the boggy reek of the mud rising to meet the close darkness of branches that hung down from old, spindle-rooted, thick-trunked trees; dripping long strands of black leaves.”
One and one-half hours.
One complete sentence.
It’s either writer’s block or shocking procrastination.
Well, it was one and a half hours well spent. What a beautiful sentence. :-) I hope you have an easier time of it when you next give it a go. There’s something to be said for one’s restraint when they know their words are not exactly right. I seem to ignore writers block and just compile a bunch of garbage out of sheer determination, only to have to rewrite it when inspiration finally comes and I see my endeavors in the light of my muse. :-P
I’m surprised you came up with such a poetic sentence and are no trapped! For me all my sentences come out like rubbish and I tweak them, then delete them, then rewrite them, then tweak them, then delete them again, then go get online and waste time.
I’m a blogger now. It’s official. You’ve lured me in. ;-)