I would say that fantasy is one of the hardest thing to write for me. I have to close my eyes and turn my mind into a film camera and project the vivid world of imagination. I see my characters. I haven not figured out what they would look like maybe something beautiful, maybe something grotesque or maybe something just plain. Once I know their visage I work on their personalities and the adventures they are going to embark.
It’s all in a hard days work. I end up scrapping two to three stories before I am satisfied with the finished product. My first story I wrote had 12 chapters and I still had not gotten to the climax or the development of my characters. It was about a young girl that lived with her grandmother, a witch. Her parents had abandon her years earlier and she had not seen them since. They lived in a cottage far from the town, near the woods. She had no friends to speak to or anyone she socialized with. Her grandmother was not rich but she was not poor either. Grandma had a regal demeanor and made her living by baking breads, desserts and other tasty dishes. I got pretty good at writing down the foods Grandma made. I could have written a cook book with all the foods I described in my book.
Well, the only time the girl got to go into town is when her grandmother delivered her foods to the many patrons that paid her. It took Grandma all day to do the deliveries. Sometimes the girl got to wander the town, sometimes she had to help her grandmother but she never complained. You could say, I made the little girl placid and content with how things were. She wasn’t rebellious or restless, seeking to see the world or have adventures. She accepted how things were.
She was not aware that her grandmother was a witch. How else would they bake 30 pies and cakes and still have time to knead the dough for different kinds of breads, then make delicious soups, casseroles, and meats of all kinds. That was my problem again. I wrote more about the food than the story. Anyhow, the grandmother was all very watchful of the girl especially when she turned twelve.
Along the way she meets a friend who just moved into town. His father had just died and his grieving mother wanted to start anew in this town. He moved into with an Uncle everybody in town avoided. He was mean and evil and hated children, especially those that passed by his house. He would chase them away very often.
Then there was the Mayor who had his own malicious agenda. He had a daughter who befriended them both. In the story they were going to stop the Mayor and his plans but how could they when they were friends with his daughter. The daughter did not believe her father was mean just doing his job that bought him many enemies.
I was just unraveling one moment to another without a climax. I hope I can rewrite the story in the future.