I don't have anything clever to say today other than I hope I get legend or something unique when I spin the wheel as I can't imagine writing a legitimate short story about how important it is to write earnestly. Right.
Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!
Today's topic is... Legend!
Hey! Look at that! What do you know? No, I didn't get legend. I got drama. But I'm going to choose to ignore that and write a legend anyway. I'm also starting to think that maybe weekly themes is a bad idea if they cause me to just ignore the decision of the wheel, unless the weekly theme is sort of generic. But anyway, a legend about writing.
Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!
When the universe was young and the planet still fresh, long before the time of man, the Creator made a being called the Author. The Author was charged with the responsibility of writing the fates of men, empires, and the path of history. Any time someone was born, died, went to war, rose to greatness, or fell, it was because the Author had written it to be so. Everyday, all day, he wrote in a castle on an island far out in the ocean so no one could interfere with the proper course of events.
One day, there was a farmer who had a son. According to the farmer, it was his son's duty to grow up and inherit the farm, but the son didn't want to inherit the farm. He wanted to be a hero. The farmer told his son that he couldn't be a hero, that every man was predestined to a fate by the Author. The son listened to his father when he was young, but as he grew, so too did his determination.
When he was still a young man and working out in the fields, he left his home without saying a word to his parents and began travelling. He came across a town where he found a mystic and demanded to know where he might find the Author. The mystic told him of a ship in the harbor that was headed out to sea, and that if the young man climbed aboard the ship and survived the storm it would pass through, he would find his way to the Author.
The young man went off and found the ship. He joined its crew and it carried him across the great sea. One night, the sailors were telling lies and talking about their broken dreams. When it came time for the young man to speak, he said he was on a journey to find the Author so he might become a hero. Some of the sailors laughed, others shouted at him, but they all told him the same thing: no man could change his fate. The young man persisted in his desire, and some of the men became angry. Some said they were now cursed for the young man had deserted his fate and had now put them all on a dangerous path from which there was no escape. They planned to throw him overboard to appease the gods, but a storm was suddenly upon them.
The sailors did what they could to control the ship and keep it together, but the men were thrown overboard. When things looked their most dire, the young man hid himself below deck and waited out the storm. When it came to an end, the young man came back up to the deck to find he was the only one aboard, and that the sails and wheel were irrevocably damaged. He had no way of fixing them and so he found himself at the mercy of the currents.
For five days and five nights he drifted out to sea. Several times he renounced his desire and prayed for death, prayed to be released from the curse he had cast upon himself. But after the five days and five nights, on the sixth morning, the ship ran aground on an island where a huge castle stood. The young man left the ship and entered the castle. He searched its great cavernous halls, but found no one there. He searched the rooms and still no one was there. He sat on the throne and thought himself a fool along with the whole world for believing in the legend of the Author. But as he quieted his mind, he faintly heard a scratching.
The young man followed the sound deep into the bowels of the castle. At the end of a hall, he found a small room where upon a desk was an old man, hunched over a scroll that was as long as time. The young man approached and said, "Are you the Author?" But the old man didn't respond. The young man asked his question again, but again there came no answer. The young man stepped closer to the scroll and suddenly saw the old man's hand change from writing action to dialogue.
"I am the Author," he said as he wrote. "I am the one who writes the fates of men."
"I want to change my fate," said the young man as he saw the Author scribble those words.
"I know," said the Author. "I'm the one who has made it so that you may change your fate by writing your path here."
"I wouldn't have made it here if you hadn't written it?" asked the young man.
"That's correct."
"But why did you allow me to make it here? Why do you allow me to choose my fate rather than write it yourself? Why did you kill those on the ship?"
"I have sympathy for all the characters in life, but some are foolish. Some I choose to let die for they are mundane, but for those in whom I see true greatness, I let them write their own story. It only seems right; your life, your story. Your story, your life."
"I can become a hero because I have chosen it?"
"And because I allow it. But, you won't be the hero you think you will be. You will go out from here and tell the people what I have told you. Some of them will choose to live as heroes and as great men, and some will continue to follow the path set before them. But better it is that some should have what they want than none of them."
"What sort of hero is that?" asked the young man.
"The sort of hero that allows for the birth of other heroes. The hero that sets the path for those to follow. You are the first cause in a great movement. Now, go. You and I both have work to do."
And so, the young man left the castle and boarded the ship. The current took him back to land and he told his tale about what the Author. Some people listened, others did not. But for those who did, they found their paths cleared and they became the heroes they longed to be.
***
Stop the clock! A minute twenty left. That took longer than I thought it would. I also didn't have the clearest idea about where this story was headed, but I think I made my point. I'm sure many other writers will be able to see the parallel between this legend and the way they write themselves occasionally. And hopefully the lesson of this legend isn't lost those writers who can't see the parallel.
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.Keep writing, my friends.
More About Bryan C. Laesch:
My Works:
Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
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