This poem is based on the Greek legend of the Sphinx. I'm pretty sure it was Oedipus who ran into the Sphinx while travelling home to Thebes. The Sphinx was a monster, a lion with the face of a woman and she would not let Oedipus pass unless he could answer this riddle; 'What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening?' Oedipus answered correctly and was allowed past. But the Sphinx was so ashamed that a human had bested her at riddles that she threw herself off a cliff shortly afterwards. I've tweaked some the myth around to suit myself. As far as I know, the Sphinx would not kill travellers who remained silent but let them go back they had come unscathed. Any opinions, negative or otherwise, would be appreciated.
Slightly more abstract than I'd normally go for. It's to do with people who believe that there lives are already laid out before them and try to conform to their fate instead of taking destiny into their own hands. I can't remember exactly what was going through my mind at the time or what inspired me to write this.
A play. I woke up one morning after a very strange series of dreams, and sat down and worked on the first two scenes of this play for six hours straight, without eating. Needless to say, I felt slightly sick after that. I was also sick of looking at the damn thing. It was supposed to be scary, like the dreams. But by the time I was immersed in MS Word, the essence of what had made those dreams so frightening was almost gone. And until I get a few friends to attack it with their critical eyes, I dare not edit it beyond basic spelling mistakes. And so I give you: TOYS A horribly unedited play.
Ori is a human/troll hybrid. Written in the first person. Criticism of a constructive nature, welcome as always.
Since so many people found Ori and the Water Sprites funny, I have produced a nice angsty piece to balance it out. Ori is now on a ship. Hooray! This is the edited version, all comments and constructive criticism welcome!
Another extract from Ori's journey. This actually pretty much wrote itself, at around three o'clock in morning. I just happened to be typing at the time. This story got a Mod's Choice on May 6th 2004. My thanks to the moderator who picked it, it means a lot to me!
I went to CTYI this summer and did a course called Writing for Life. It helped me produce some of my best work to date. Credit to my teacher, Yvonne, for bringing us to a graveyard for inspirational purposes. Never would have written this story otherwise. Anyway, this piece has been affectionately nicknamed 'The Dead Baby Story' by my classmates. It's somewhat abstract. Leave me comments! This story got Mod's Choice, August 19th, 2004. Go raibh mile maith agat! Someone high-five me! NOW!