Ok, So I've been writing on a fantasy novel for almost 11 years now, and want to share with you some of it. And I hope to get comments 
-------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------
A child's mind is unspoilt and virgin. As pure as silky white snow.
In a child's mind anything can be created. And it might seem more real than reality itself.
The first bombs came in september. They took the west-side first. Reduced the villa's and mansions into dust and dirt. Soldiers came marching in thousands, like ants in a colony. People lost their homes and lives, and hundreds was placed in working-camps.
The Resistance did whatever they could, but they quickly got outnumbered.
Now The Axis controlled most of the country, and they ruled with an iron fist. Dicipline and
a strong rule system ensured that nobody wanted to cross the line.
Curfew was at six, and the lights had to be out at nine. It was dark times, and the common
people where those who suffered the most from these wargames.
Foxfire Lane was a street down east side of the city. It was a workers district and Daniel
had lived there his whole life. So had Erica, but the've never really talked to each other, cause
Daniel's parents had made it perfectly clear that being anywhere near The Fitzgeralds or their
rebellios daughter was an absolute tabu. But the meeting had to happen,
and it was inevitable. Foxfire Lane and the areas around was known for their old buildings,
but it wasn't really the buildings in particular, but the technique that was made building
them. All of the buildings shared the top floor, making it a big attic labyrinth. It was a
perfect place for a kid with a big imagination. Piles of old sports equipment.
Trunks and chests in a various varieties and sizes. Old pots and paintings. Sacks of clothing
and shoes. Furniture and decorations in the plenty, and a dullion of other miscellaneous
gadgets and stuff. The only thing really missing in there was a minotaur to protect all the
goods.
It happened on a gloomy september night. It had been misty all day. The fog covered the
city as a tick blanket. It was quite except for the small splashing sound of rain drops hitting
stonework. In a dark corner of the attic, styrofoam bursted out of a big cardboard box.
Daniel had adventured the attic the whole afternoon, without really finding something of
interest. Until now. He dragged out the manikin and placed it under the lights of a single
lightbulb. It resembled a wizard who could have been taken out of any written fantasy novel.
The attire was made out of a a dark blue hooded cloak with golden embroidery, big brown laced boots and offcourse a pointy hat. The hat had the name Laurth written on it with a childish font.
In a child's mind anything can be created. And it might seem more real than reality itself.
The first bombs came in september. They took the west-side first. Reduced the villa's and mansions into dust and dirt. Soldiers came marching in thousands, like ants in a colony. People lost their homes and lives, and hundreds was placed in working-camps.
The Resistance did whatever they could, but they quickly got outnumbered.
Now The Axis controlled most of the country, and they ruled with an iron fist. Dicipline and
a strong rule system ensured that nobody wanted to cross the line.
Curfew was at six, and the lights had to be out at nine. It was dark times, and the common
people where those who suffered the most from these wargames.
Foxfire Lane was a street down east side of the city. It was a workers district and Daniel
had lived there his whole life. So had Erica, but the've never really talked to each other, cause
Daniel's parents had made it perfectly clear that being anywhere near The Fitzgeralds or their
rebellios daughter was an absolute tabu. But the meeting had to happen,
and it was inevitable. Foxfire Lane and the areas around was known for their old buildings,
but it wasn't really the buildings in particular, but the technique that was made building
them. All of the buildings shared the top floor, making it a big attic labyrinth. It was a
perfect place for a kid with a big imagination. Piles of old sports equipment.
Trunks and chests in a various varieties and sizes. Old pots and paintings. Sacks of clothing
and shoes. Furniture and decorations in the plenty, and a dullion of other miscellaneous
gadgets and stuff. The only thing really missing in there was a minotaur to protect all the
goods.
It happened on a gloomy september night. It had been misty all day. The fog covered the
city as a tick blanket. It was quite except for the small splashing sound of rain drops hitting
stonework. In a dark corner of the attic, styrofoam bursted out of a big cardboard box.
Daniel had adventured the attic the whole afternoon, without really finding something of
interest. Until now. He dragged out the manikin and placed it under the lights of a single
lightbulb. It resembled a wizard who could have been taken out of any written fantasy novel.
The attire was made out of a a dark blue hooded cloak with golden embroidery, big brown laced boots and offcourse a pointy hat. The hat had the name Laurth written on it with a childish font.