I was proven wrong, somewhat. I like the parts of the game that deal with Italy in the 15th century, while—at the same time—I thought the whole, “this is actually a game,” thing was tad superfluous. Just something tacked on to make it science-fiction-esque. Granted, I came into story part way through, but—still—my point stand. Simply being Ezio in Italy and facing the threat of his father’s murderers would have sufficed.

The mechanics they employed and the storyline they used were well-worn, but I felt that they added enough to make it seem new, fresh, and exciting—at least, for a video game. At points throughout the game, it was a little hard to follow who was who and what was really going on. And the reveal at the end was seen a mile away. It still kept me engaged, though. Long enough to finish the game (and kill a ton of guards while I was at it; after all, Ezio doesn’t kill civilians).

I’ve begun to play Dragon Age: Origins, which has a lot of promise, and—luckily—it runs a lot better than Assassin’s Creed 2.

I’m going to start supplying a word or two at the end of each of my posts, which you may or may not take advantage of as diving boards for writing. Think of them as writing prompts. Or, don’t, if that helps you at all. Regardless, though, of how you take it, write! You can share what you wrote here on my blog, email it to me, or keep it to yourself. It doesn’t matter.

Random Word(s) Objectified As A Springboard: An empty chair stained with blood.

Since I supplied them with a self-addressed letter in the manila envelope which also encased my short story, I got a hard-copy of the results: my first rejection letter! I’m going to pin this up on my wall—or, in the very least, save it for future consultation and admiration.

I think I’m going to continue writing in the same universe I created for short story I submitted to the Writers of the Future contest; there’s something about it that I really, really like. And I feel as if I haven’t taken full advantage of its capability.

On a side note, for the first time, I attempted to do NaNoWriMo. I’ve fallen behind, which is partially due to school (I’ve had several papers and tests this month, after all), but—sadly—also due my laziness.

I started this piece at the beginning of the year, perhaps even before that if you counted all those days world-building the universe I’ve centered my story around. Originally, I wanted to submit it to a dinky competition at Sierra College (maybe that would’ve been more realistic), but after I realized I didn’t want my story featured amid pornography disguised  as, “unimpeded, creative works of art,” I decidedly set my sights much higher: and that was to the Writers of the Future contest—much higher, indeed.

My biggest obstacle was my own self-doubt. Constantly, I waged a war against my weaker half, who always said that I could never do it, that I would never make it. My better half beat the other, and the story I’ve submitted is a testament to that, at least in my eyes, great feat.

I’ve learned far more from the doing of it: from actually sitting down, with butt in chair, and with hands on keyboard, and typing. I’ve learned a lot about storytelling, that it’s more than just fancy words, catchy phrases, and sentence variation: it’s about character development, their real and tangible emotions, and the journey they face—it’s about identifying!

Thank you, everyone, who read my many drafts and gave me the much needed feedback. Without you, I would never have written such a grand story. Again, thank you!

Right now, the title of the story is, The End of the Beginning. The title is a spin-off of the classic—and quite cliché—title, the Beginning of the End. The tale centers around a certain period within the timeline of the universe I’ve been world-building so extensively this past year or so. The period is the Transition, near the ending of it. Hence the name of the story, the End of  the Beginning.

I’m trying to make the tale a prime example of the unreliable narrator.