Fantasy - stretching beyond

I've been heavily into dragons of late, reveling in fantasy and loving every minute of it. It seems as though I can stay buried in a project just so long and then I must break through the atmosphere and go some place completely different - dragon lore done well is the perfect fit when this thing takes me over.

I started my fantasy journeys with Tolkien and Ursula Le Guin and have continued to read many more, finding myself deeply into Anne McCaffery's Dragonriders of Pern series. She's collaborating with her son Todd to explore dragonlore even further now, which I find interesting. Unfortunately I started this series way out instead of at the beginning, so I am literally backtracking before moving forward again.

As I read I learn what I do and do not like in writing certain kinds of stories. One is that I do not enjoy reading pieces that are 98% dialogue and I do not hesitate to put a book down that does it. Beautifully written prose peppered with appropriate dialogue when there are characters in action can be a wonderful pleasure to read because it allows my imagination to engage in creation.

We need good writing to take us to a place where we'll be challenged, nurtured and the imagination sparked. I can usually tell when I'm in a good place for writing, because I will enjoy reading what I wrote. I can also go back to some of my writing and clearly understand why it never got off the ground. Perhaps the descriptors are colorless, characters underdeveloped or the storyline is dull. So what can we do to relieve the monotony?

One way is free writing - forcing oneself to write until the spirit loosens and the pen flows into that place where the imagination engages.

Another is to get outside for a walk or a run in nature. There is nothing more fascinating that the mysteries of Earth Mother. Think of the transition of a butterfly from larvae to caterpillar to butterfly, or the intricacies of lichen or the mating of Luna moths.

One evening, just before sundown, I noticed two of those chartreuse beauties on the window screen. I stood there transfixed by the miracle of procreation as the male lit gently on the female's back and held her there until the sun set. The next morning the male was gone but the female still clung to the screen. Later that day she, too, was gone. I've thought of them often - thankful to be a part of their story and grateful for the opportunity to offer them protection. I wonder when I will weave that experience into something more...