Jan 24 2012
Transitions
By Guest Blogger Chris Bryant
There was a time, a long time ago, when I wasn’t where I am now. I didn’t used to examine every detail. I didn’t try to explain everything as something else. The time I refer to is when I was a child.
As a child, I didn’t have a care in the world, other than which toy to play with first. Life was simple, for the most part. As it is with most families I’m sure, not everything was perfect. My little brother and I grew up with my step-dad, who adopted me at a very young age. We were raised with military precision. Loud noise was not tolerated, talking back, sitting slouched, a certain level of cleaning, etc.
All of my childhood, I disliked this authoritative figure, even to the point of hate. It wasn’t until I had grown into the person I am today that I realized how influential he really was and regardless of his methods, he was simply preparing us for the worst. I am eternally grateful. Also, from this, at the time, seen negativity, sparked something in me I never knew I had. A talent. I still remember the first day. I asked my step-dad to draw me a picture of a train for school, which he did and did well. I was impressed. I had never tried something with such detail before. So, I decided that afternoon to try myself and was amazed at the quality of the picture I had recreated. From that day forward, I swore to myself I’d never trace again and I’d strive to draw things with more and more detail. I’d never settle for less than a challenge. To this day, I still hold to that.
As a teenager, I began to see the amount of detail I was putting into everything I drew. I started understanding it, understanding the shadows, the lighting, the angles, and much more. Thus, another talent was born, writing. Although, I didn’t fully understand what I was trying to describe and used words that were by far more adolescent than I use these days, I enjoyed what I did. I still drew, but it became slightly less, mostly due to the young adult lifestyle I lived. Hanging out with friends, school, and of course homework took precedence. Yet, through all of that, my mind still soared with the birds and swam with the fish. I climbed mountains, walked with the indigenous, treasure hunted, battled mummies, and much more. My artwork grew more detailed as well, surpassing my writing style with ease. My vocabulary still lacked definition and my words lacked meaning. It wasn’t until my twenties that I finally saw what I needed to do.
As an adult, now in my early twenties, I began to really expand my vocabulary. It may sound funny, but this actually worked for me. I’d watch movies with the subtitles on and when there was a word I didn’t know, I’d write it down and use it in one of my stories to expand my vocabulary. Subtitles have actually become a great tool and I still continue the process to this day, whether it be to use the words I hear or just to learn the definition. My art began to form better, my words began to flow more. It was around this time I really embraced writing. I began the project that is now my first published work thanks to all that I’ve learned over the years. I don’t think my writing style would be liked by so many if I hadn’t learned from all the experiences I’ve had over the years. I’ve included an example from a new chapter of my next book I’m currently working on as an example. I hope you enjoy it.
“NOOOO!!” Shino screamed, running towards the creature. “FOOL!” The creature bellowed, blasting Shino back six feet on his back. “Do you not know who I am? You insolent little maggot! You cannot fathom the power I possess! How is it you plan to beat me? HAHAHAHA!! You are weak! I am Sephiran. You are dead.” Shino watched in horror as Sephiran gutted his parents first before turning to finish what he had started. Just as Sephiran swung down on Shino, A loud clang rang out just above him. Standing there, covered in sweat and burned from fighting fires, holding a sword blocking the attack was Chingon!
“Creature, you fight me! I am the sanctuary’s hope and no other has the honor of this fight!”
“Hahahaha! You are brave, small one, but you cannot defeat me. Not with darkness in your heart. Yes, I sense it like it’s a sign lit up for the world to see. You are mine!” Sephiran snapped his fingers as he rose to his full height, his dark blue wings folding behind him. At his full height, seven feet, he towered over the two men beneath him. His green robes conformed to his jet black body. The only part of him that hinted at color were the white accents around his eyes, nose, and mouth. His eyes, blood red, glowed like a street light.
At the sound of Sephiran moving, Chingon lunged. As he did, his right arm began to burn. Black seared his whole side before he could yelp a cry of pain. In the short time the rest of his body up to his neck burned, Sephiran approached Shino again. “Let’s see if you can fly, hero!” With that, he threw Shino as hard as he could. Shino flew through the air towards, then past the wall of the sanctuary. He was in a daze as his world began to disappear. He was falling quickly. He didn’t know if he’d survive the fall or not. How could he be a part of that boys life if he was about to die? Could the keeper have been wrong?
Chingon felt a surge of energy rising up in him. The energy felt wrong though. It wasn’t the good he stood for, rather the evil he kept in his heart for so long. How could he be the bad guy? His destiny has become clouded. As the power in him rose, he made a quick decision to do one last good deed. He put his arm out, palm towards the wall, fingers outstretched. He felt for Shino’s falling body.
Just before slamming into the ground, a cushion of cerulean light cushioned the fall. Shino’s sight blurred and he blacked out.
“One final good deed before servitude?” Sephiran laughed. “Yes, I knew what you did. Why would you save such an insignificant insect like that? Your last act and you save someone unimportant. Your decision making skills had better start getting smarter or you won’t be spared again.” He snapped his finger again. The rest of Chingon’s face burned, the agony with it unbearable. Chingon fell to his knees in pain, screaming and clawing at his face. When it finally stopped burning, an unrecognizable Chingon stood and faced Sephiran. Parts of his face were missing from clawing at the burning flesh. “Now for the finishing touches, my general,” Sephiran said, waving his hand at Chingon. The charred remains of his body hardened, his own skin thickening and forming armor, harder than any man made steel. A mask of great evil was shaped around his head and seared in place. The good in Chingon was gone. Chingon was gone. He was now the black knight and he was his master’s general. What were his orders?
I hope you’ve enjoyed this preview and an insight into what made me the writer, artist, and published author I am today. I will continue this trend for years to come, I’m certain of it. My writing can and will get better and better. Your enthusiasm and support is fuel for me to become the best I can. I will rise to the challenge of creating something masterful that will blow the minds of the fiction world. Most importantly, before I go, without you, none of this would be possible. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
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My name is Chris Bryant. I’m 26, born and raised in Lexington, Ky. I love to write. I have been writing since I was little, always short stories about action or adventures I’d have liked to have been on. The Sword of Hope is my first of many books to come. My dream has always been to be able to get one of my stories published. This is my first full length story. I can’t wait to see how everyone likes it.
Learn more at: http://theswordofhope.com