The Wannabe

Last night I got home after a particularly good D&D session and decided that it was time I stop making excuses and start on a project that I have wanted to undertake for a while now. So ignoring the fact that I was tired, at midnight I sat down at the laptop and typed out the first page of my book!

I’ve been wanting to write a book for a while now but as I mentioned, there always seems to be an excuse to put it off. I’m too busy with school, it won’t be good, it won’t get published, I won’t finish it, blah, blah, blah. Well last night I said, “No more excuses!” The only problem was deciding what kind of book to write.

I’ve played with the idea of writing an early-life biography. I have a lot of material but I’m afraid that it may be a tad boring. Besides, it’s been done before. I’ve also thought about writing a how-to-survive-the-marine-corps type book in the style of the ever-popular “…for dummies” books. Unlike the first idea, I didn’t think I had enough material and the target audience would be too small to be significant. But last night, the idea came to me easily. We had just finished a riveting game of D&D that had been very plot-heavy and, given my in-depth knowledge of the fantasy literature world, I decided to write a fantasy/adventure novel.

Now before I get too far into it, I wanted to see what everyone else thought. So here, for your reading pleasure, are the first two paragraphs of my novel. Please note that I’m not so much looking for comments on the content, but rather the writing itself. Even if you don’t like the genre, is the writing at least decent?

The smell was overwhelming. Patrons stumbled into the taverns, heads spinning from the putrid odor of rotten meat, spoiled milk, and all manner of wretched garbage that had been baking in the hot summer sun. Accomodating barkeeps had placed buckets next to the doors so that travelers not yet used to the stench could empty their bellies before filling them again in the smoke-filled dining rooms. Not that the citizens had become completely accustomed to the smell. There was a slow-rising panic as, over the past month, conversation turned from rants of anger and frustration to talk of abandoning homes and leaving the city. There was no doubt about it; the smell may be the problem of the day, but the trash needed to be taken out before disease began to spread.

The city of Ulam wasn’t known for clean streets and pleasant aromas. On any given night, in any given district, litter could be found blowing about the busy streets, and the sickly smell of alcohol, smoke, and over-cooked soups assaulted the senses. The cause of this was what the citizens of Ulam called, “the tavern plague” or simply, “the plague.” Since the construction of the Gassa highway nearly 20 years ago, Ulam had transformed from a large but out-of-the-way mining city to a bustling metropolis and an important trade hub. Ambitious entrepreneurs quickly realized that the constant stream of travelers and tradesmen would require places to stay and food to eat. So it was that Ulam came to be known for its taverns, for which
there was nearly one for every forty people in the city at any given time. Still, with the Order of Street Sweepers refusing to do their job, the scent of the city was quickly changing from tolerable to deadly.

So what do you think?