For those of you who are reading this, I'm sorry for not updating in a while. I have a draft of Part 3 that needs serious lengthening plus work (not done yet), and I have a serious case of writer's block.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

wow,LOL,and everything,but what?writers block?dude,its simple to AVIOD this,problem.

heres what i do:

1.get a piece of paper,then WRITE the story
2.dont TELL ABOUT IT!you dont want anybody peeking at it,right?
3.let a trusted friend check it out,and tell him about suggestions,comments,and reaction,and make sure he will not blab about it

anyway,great story!

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Follow me on Twitter: @SynthGraphics

1.get a piece of paper,then WRITE the story

That's the problem. I can't finish my draft, I'm like 3/4 done.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

Prologue
I have often heard very good friends say the words, "We're like brothers, in all but blood!" Well, it seems great, but for me, now that I know the truth, I would never accept any real brother of mine...But first, let's start from the beginning...the very beginning...

Chapter 1: The Infant Stage
Part One: Birth
"They're almost ready, aren't they?", said Rubius, "We're about to become parents to two beautiful baby boy dragons!"
"Hush, the first egg is about to crack.", said Diamante, "They need to understand the world and let their instincts develop, don't they? Don't say anything and let them take their time."
Both dragons leaned closer as the first of the 2 eggs began to visibly crack, as a tiny claw, still glistening from the iris produced through the mist in the last rays of a dying sun, slowly pulled apart the remains of its old home and entered a new world...
On the other side of Dragon Valley...
"Don't worry, my precious Angie, our twin boys will be just beautiful. You'll do just fine. We don't need the technology of our so-called 'kin' if they don't see the dragons as a peaceful, intelligent race. We'll live happily ever after in Dragon Valley, with the all other dragons," said Melvin.
"Please stay with me, Melvin. I want you to be there with me when our twins come," said Angela, as she laid on a makeshift hospital bed.
Melvin, who had once been a doctor in the Village of Progress, had asked the dragons to steal some materials to make medical equipment for his wife's upcoming childbirth. As he waited with the love of his life, he looked out over the natural beauty of Dragon Valley. The mountains sloped perfectly to hide it from any oncoming passerby, and in this valley, lush green fields of rolling grass inside endless meadows stretched out as far as the eye could see. The waterfall that covered the main entrance produced a splendid rainbow that stretched over the blue, cloudless sky as the sun's last rays swept over the picturesque landscape. The sun illuminated all life in Dragon Valley, as its golden, warm beams revitalized everything in its path, and maintained a perfect balance with nature, as the dragons did. The dragons lived completely in harmony with nature, and whatever they took, they always paid back in plenty. Their nests were made from the hollows of trees, which the dragons shaped with their claws, talons and the fires they created from deep inside their fire pits. At night, they lit the excess wood for light, and, when necessary, used it for signaling to other dragon settlements across the valley. They used moss for bedding, had a community running smoothly, and preferred the daytime over nighttime, where they were weaker. Some aspects of their technology were even more advanced than the humans, so long as they had the materials to make it. They caught only the weak, old and sick of their prey to keep the herds and flocks strong. Everything was perfect in the valley. Then, the humans came.
The humans arrived in ships, from a place they called Alalëa. From their folklore, they saw dragons as evil beasts who needed to be killed to save their land. Beasts incapable of coherent thought. Beasts incapable of emotion, driven by nothing but instinct and anger. Nothing could be further from the truth. Melvin and Angela had always been radical thinkers. They had been excommunicated from the church for their ideas and protests. They did not care either, for they truly believed in what they thought, and didn’t care for religion. They were, most importantly, in love as well. They ran away together until they met with a member of this dragon settlement, Rubius. He had been out hunting when he spotted the two. Rubius had been ready to send the alarm, but he noticed something different about these two. Something new, which dragons had seen before but never in a human. He saw the gleam of curiosity, a thirst for adventure, and a hunger for knowledge. Rubius flew down to them and began to speak.
“What are you humans doing here?”, he said, “This is no place for someone like you.”
“Well, I didn’t know dragons could talk! Are all the dragons like this?”, said Angela, “How amazing! Everyone else was wrong, Melvin, we were correct about this after all!”
There definitely is something different about these humans. They would make great companions indeed. I must tell the other dragons. Rubius thought to himself.
“Here, come with me. I’ll introduce you two to the other dragons of my village.”, said Rubius, as he beckoned them towards his starboard wing. They got on and soared off into the distance, where they ended up staying till this very day.
Melvin snapped out of his reverie when he saw the main signal fire in the middle of the community light up. Something was wrong. (Ch. 1 Part 1 End)
Part Two: Ambush
The signal fire let off a warm glow in the cold, pitch-black night, as sparks shot out from its fiery depths. This glow was warm, but the general mood of those who knew what it meant to see the fire lit was bone-chilling.
“Our sentry Garnetia saw 2 platoons of Earthbounds [dragon term for humans] moving into the waterfall. They’ve discovered our location, and are fully prepared to wipe us out.”, said the village elder. Murmurs spread like wildfire through the gathered dragons plus Melvin, who had just arrived to hear this new turn of events.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine, we’re dragons, after all.”
“Mommy, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you to the Earthbounds.”
“The eggs must be kept safe!”
“Silence! We must prepare ourselves for this! These invaders might be small in numbers, but the earthbounds have an advantage in that their race breeds like rats. Even if only 4 are left, the population will grow back to its original size very quickly. We must completely wipe out these platoons to prevent further attacks and strike fear into the earthbounds. We will teach them a lesson they will never forget!”, roared the elder.
A resounding cry rose from the recipients, “WE WILL FIGHT!!!!”
“Now, is everyone present? Wait a minute, where is Rubius and Diamante?”, asked the elder.
“They are with the medic dragon Hertia because their eggs are ready to hatch,” said Melvin, “and I will fight alongside you, and try to persuade my ex-brethren to make peace and stop all the pointless violence that has occurred between our races.”
The elder nodded his head deeply. “Very well, then. Is Angela going to be okay with what we have available?”, he asked.
“I’m confident that she will be,” replied Melvin. “Now let’s do this.”
In the hatchery...
“So, it looks like our second child is quite a late bloomer!”, said Rubius. “While he still hasn’t hatched yet, our first child is already discovering his dragon instincts.”
“Don’t be so harsh, you are a parent now, remember?”, said Diamante. “Don’t forget, our valley needs all the dragons it can get in the defense against the human invasion. Better to hatch late than never at all.”
 “True, so true,” sighed Rubius. “What if he doesn’t hatch at all, though?”
“Don’t say that, please,” fretted Diamante, “I’m sure he’ll hatch safely.”
“Your second son will be fine, Rubius,” said Hertia. “There should be no problems with this hatching.”
Both dragons stared out into the night, as the never-ending blackness stretched far across the sky, into a place where the eye could not follow. It was oppressing, as it began to swallow them up...
At the community center...
“So here is our plan of attack,” said the elder. “We will strike-”
A rumbling started. The very earth seemed to thunder, her anger slowly building up as the emotions became too much for her to handle. The Earthbounds came out in full force, yelling savage war cries, with bloodlust and hatred gleaming in their small, beady eyes as it controlled their every thought from here on out...
“RUN! GET AWAY FROM HERE!”, said Melvin. “IT’S NOT SAFE! TAKE THE YOUNG AND RUN!”
The mothers and children took off in flight, leaving a small platoon of dragons left to fend off the invaders, including the elders and Melvin. However, these were dragons, and they would not be defeated so easily by mere Earthbounds. They rose up and dove down at the earthbounds with tooth, claw and flame. Steel clashed against bone, and soldiers screamed as they began melting under the intense heat that could have come straight from the pits of Hell themselves. Some soldiers screamed in high-pitched voices as they were suddenly plucked from the ground by a flying dragon and tossed miles away into the dark sky infested with crows, vultures, and other carrion birds waiting for their next feast. Others broke down on the battlefield from witnessing these events, curling up into the fetal position and rocking back and forth as their blank eyes darted back and forth while muttering strange archaic languages known only to those who have descended into madness.
But on the other end of the fight, dragons screamed in pain as swords and arrows cut into their flesh, spilling warm blood onto the battlefield and tainting the purity of the dragons’ homeland. Other dragons gasped their last breaths as giant rocks plunged into their chests and wings from large catapults, sending them tumbling down into the battlefield where they met their doom. Some were even split in half by giant battle axes and swords cleaving and hacking through their flesh until two halves of one body remained, lying ominously on the battlefield.
While the dragons were able to massacre most of the earthbounds, they could not stop some of the humans that broke through their offensive lines to kill on the inside. This was where Melvin stepped in, for his job was to stop this from happening. He cut down dozens of men on his own, but one soldier, armed with a crossbow managed to break into the hatchery where Rubius, Diamante and Hertia were waiting for the second egg to hatch. Melvin burst in as the soldier aimed and fired, while the dragons stood frozen at the sight, unable to react in time. He rushed forward in front of the dragons as fast as he could as the bolt sped towards them, and he dove for it...
“NOO!”
“...Melvin? MELVIN! NO! Wake up! ARRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!! I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!!!!” said Rubius. He dove at the frightened soldier like a tiger jumping on a rabbit and bloodily tore him into thousands of pieces.
The second egg burst open in a flash of light, and a hatchling came out, staring out into the world as the scene developed in front of his innocent eyes, watching murder and sorrow happen in an instant right before him...
At the human medical center where Melvin lived, 2 minutes prior...
“ARRRRRGGGHHHHHH!”
The scream of a dying man rent the night. Angela and a medic dragon were in the medical center when the scream was heard, shattering the silence like it was a pane of fragile glass. Angela was in the middle of childbirth when she heard the scream.
“MELVIN!” screamed Angela. “Please, don’t leave me!”
“The children! The children! They’re here! You’ve done well. You have twin boys! Here they are, here you go.”, said the medic dragon.
“They’re so beautiful,” choked out Angela. “It’s too bad they won’t be able to know their father. But maybe someday, they’ll rise up to the heavens and we’ll finally be a full family at last...”
“Angela, stay with me! We can’t lose you! Angela! ANGELA!”
The heart rate monitor that Melvin had built out of his bare hands using nothing but wires, a 9V battery, some plastic and metal began to show steadily smaller blips as it slowly began to flatline, to move to that number 0.
“I see him. I see Melvin. There’s a bright light, I know we’ll finally be together forever...”
Blip ... Blip ... blip ......... blip..... beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep ... beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep ... beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. (Ch. 1 Part 2 End)

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This beginning wasn't too good i guess because i had to give background. But from here on, the story really gets moving! Just keep checking this thread often, i promise you won't regret it! I can't guarantee a schedule for updates, but I will try to do my best!

IT'S SOO INTERESTING LOL !!! KEEP DOING IT !!!

^
1. I am continuing it, near done with Part 3 finally.
2. -sigh- Did you really need to quote my whole story?

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

Because many people have been waiting a long time (which I really appreciate), I'm able to post a complete preview of Chapter 3! I can finish Chapter 3 over break finally.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

its aweesome

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thank you otthelog for sig and ga hoo leone and quetz and king cephues for my sigs i will alteratte them every week

pokemon trainer card

Spoiler (Click to View)

listen im sad u have writer's block, this is soo interesting, im one of the people who doesnt have writers block at all... i have boooks and boooks filled with poems and stories but im too shy to publish em or upload them

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i sell HMS,MFB and plastics so please go to my shop
http://worldbeyblade.org/Thread-abhicher...#pid547547

listen im sad u have writer's block, this is soo interesting, im one of the people who doesnt have writers block at all... i have boooks and boooks filled with poems and stories but im too shy to publish em or upload them

So you like it then? I got my old draft back and got some new ideas, so part 3 will (for real this time) probably be up over the weekend. The only thing that might stop me is a takehome quiz+math fair presentation+research symposium presentation that are all due monday. But I'm close to finishing the presentations, and the take home shouldn't take too long. I'll see what I can do.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

interesting story!!! its awesome!!!
@MeteoDrago98- why did you quote such a huge post?
abhi- Ha! ha! ha!
Its better you upload some of those!!! Your wave poem was awesome!
Even I am shy...... I don't actually want to share any stories here... but I did! And I luved doing it! Its not successful though...

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Team IB Revolutions

Thanks to N0body for the avatar and Synth for the signature!

DAMN, I completely forgot about this story. Just remembered when I saw someone post how most of the stories on here aren't good. The new chapter is up in one hour, for those who still follow this. I had AP studying, my last exam is tomorrow, wish me luck!

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

So, for those of you that still read this (I hope some are, although I know it's been like 2-3 months), Chapter 1 is finally finished with part 3! Warning, there is a curse in here, although it has been censored. Enjoy!

EDIT: So, for those of you that read this (hopefully), what do you think? And what do you imagine the characters to look like. And what should Striga look like? I'll describe him in the next chapter based off of whatever you think he should look like. Remember, he's still a human/Earthbound, he just grows up knowing nothing but dragons. And for those of you who see the reason why I chose the name Striga (very, very obvious), Kudos to you.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

yeah its obvious. The Striga a.k.a Orlando.
AMAZING STORY GA
I Love it so much its better than my story (under My Stories by Naitrax)

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Info (Click to View)

Thanks SDamonCronous for the sig. I have 25 MF Beys. My Pokemon Black Friend Code: 4427-2197-5094. Want to battle? I am the WBO's Psychic Gym Leader. Head on over to the thread to see my team. Please go to the Team Chaos Blade page.
Anyone got a spare non-metal face bolt I could have? PM me if you do.

Proud Leader of Team Chaos Blade: The Kingdom of The Moon
Visit my Story thread and read My stories!

Dragon Stuff (Click to View)

Please support Pulse, my pet dragon. Just click to visit him.
I'm very friendly. Just don't get on my bad side. Or there will be trouble.

Amazing story Ga! Read in Sparta's story that you were kinda disappointed as no one reads. But do not worry. Its great! Also, you might like to read my story. The Big Bang Organization Tournament.

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Team IB Revolutions

Thanks to N0body for the avatar and Synth for the signature!

After seeing how I am unable to quickly make these chapters due to high school, testing and other stuff taking away my time from this, I decided to have Sparta help me co-write this, who I know (and many others know) as a very good writer. Welcome aboard, Sparta!

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

After seeing how I am unable to quickly make these chapters due to high school, testing and other stuff taking away my time from this, I decided to have Sparta help me co-write this, who I know (and many others know) as a very good writer. Welcome aboard, Sparta!

Thank you, Captain. Ahoy mates! Lower the brig and steel the masts, we're gonnna be headin for a new chapter, so get ready fer some rocky weather you scabbers dogs! All in the winds and all in the sails, come crashin' down on me decks like thunder! AHAHAHAHA

Sorry for that pirates reference. Anyways, I will start on your chapter soon.

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"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\

Thank you, Captain. Ahoy mates! Lower the brig and steel the masts, we're gonnna be headin for a new chapter, so get ready fer some rocky weather you scabbers dogs! All in the winds and all in the sails, come crashin' down on me decks like thunder! AHAHAHAHA

Ok...........?/????
i so cant wait for the next chapter *explosion*

did you just watch a pirate movie

---

Info (Click to View)

Thanks SDamonCronous for the sig. I have 25 MF Beys. My Pokemon Black Friend Code: 4427-2197-5094. Want to battle? I am the WBO's Psychic Gym Leader. Head on over to the thread to see my team. Please go to the Team Chaos Blade page.
Anyone got a spare non-metal face bolt I could have? PM me if you do.

Proud Leader of Team Chaos Blade: The Kingdom of The Moon
Visit my Story thread and read My stories!

Dragon Stuff (Click to View)

Please support Pulse, my pet dragon. Just click to visit him.
I'm very friendly. Just don't get on my bad side. Or there will be trouble.

Thank you, Captain. Ahoy mates! Lower the brig and steel the masts, we're gonnna be headin for a new chapter, so get ready fer some rocky weather you scabbers dogs! All in the winds and all in the sails, come crashin' down on me decks like thunder! AHAHAHAHA

Ok...........?/????
i so cant wait for the next chapter *explosion*

did you just watch a pirate movie

Saw pirates of the Caribbean on stranger tides last night. Great movie! Loved the plot, and Barbosa was epic even with a peg leg full of rum. Meanwhile Jack...

but I digress. I'm just happy to be on the team w/ Ga.

---

"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\

Wow, I completely forgot I had to a chapter to write for this, and now I'm going to review it. Sorry about that, I'll get on both!

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"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\

It's okay. I can write the chapter myself, now that finals and stuff like that finished, and I'm back in my regular routine after summer vacation. But the review, yes please!

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

WOO NECRO

Alright, so I think I'll get back with this story. I really don't like my writing style looking back, too many commas and a few ridiculous details. I'll be able to fix up all of the oddities within a week, and hopefully you guys can expect a chapter/part of a chapter by the end of the month.

For anybody new who hasn't read this yet and is seeing it now, enjoy!

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

Oor, because I'm almost done with stuff here I can keep my promise!

Yup, looking back I'm wincing at little-me's handwriting haha. I will, definitely, get a part up by the end of this month so people aren't stuck just reading the prologue. The plot is okay but for the sake of it I think I will keep going and actually try to fix up Chapter 1 and a working draft of Chapter 2 that's waiting somewhere in the wings.

So, sorry to any people who had actually liked this story because I procrastinated like hell and then got swamped with life the entire year. To old and new readers, enjoy and look forward to new chapters!

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)