To believe in the supernatural

So, erm, *cough cough* I should be working, but I’m not. I’m just playing around on the computer, feeling the need to type, but having nothing specific to type. I did write over one thousand words this morning for my latest chapter of Chance Encounter: Return to Middle Earth, so that’s pretty good. I couldn’t find anything particularly interesting to put in my journal, but what’s new? There is never anything very interesting to write first thing in the morning, especially Monday morning.

It occurred to me as I was sitting in my Medieval European History lecture that modern society views science the way Europeans in the Middle Ages viewed Christianity. Science in our world is unchallenged; it is everything, and if it’s not scientific, then it’s probably not worth seeing/listening to. But I must say that I want to believe that there are things which are outside scientific theory. I want to believe in the supernatural, because that way, the world would be so much more interesting. Instead of learning the laws of physics (which bore me to death), I would probably be studying the supernatural.

The problem is that everything has to make sense. For a fantasy writer, it gets very very frustrating when people say ‘it’s just fantasy. It doesn’t make any sense’. That’s the attitude my dad has towards what I write, and it annoys the hell out of me. He thinks that writing fantasy is a total piece of cake because everything goes. It doesn’t work like that. Writing fantasy is about establishing a world with a different set of rules, and following those rules. It’s actually more difficult than real life because in life, you know those rules whereas in fantasy, those rules haven’t been drilled into you so it’s easier to make mistakes.  

So now, I’m missing linguistics again. It’s a relief, actually, to not have to fall asleep in class. I should be working on my essay plan at the moment, but I feel the resolute and unyielding need to procrastinate. Maybe it’s because it’s Monday, and also possibly because the essay is not related to the year 1187.

New Blog

Right, so I’m starting a new blog…again. I’ve got writer’s block so really, there isn’t much that I can do at the moment. Maybe this will be a place for all my miscellaneous writings.

The lake is calm. There is not a ripple, a breeze. The mountain looms above everything. It gazes serenely into the mirror of the lake’s surface, as if it is contemplating its reflection. The wild flowers give off their perfume. I trudge through the greenery. Burs and seeds stick to my clothing. I walk on, crushing young green leaves beneath my feet. The morning dew wets the bottom of my jeans. The air is cool and crisp, laced with the scent of mist, remainders from the evening. My breath comes out in a pale cloud of steam. Everything is silent, except for the few morning call of birds. A shadow falls over the land. There is the beating of giant wings. I look up. There, more magnificent than any human creation, is something which exists only in the imagination of children. A dragon, its scales gleaming in the pale morning light like overlapping plates of gold. Its eyes gleam like burning jewels and its claws are sabers. It circles and finally lands on top of the mountain. We regard each other. Understanding passes between us. It nods its assent. I go on. Today, I’ll have something to put on my page.