I believe that as far as writing goes, I am no longer a pure Tolkienite. I have no desire to craft a medieval fairytale as epic as gold and insurmountable as time. Instead, I am in the story for the journey and the experience anymore. I want to express both the rollercoaster ride of the emotional windfall of the characters but to also emphasize the loftiness of the eternal through structures and places beyond the normal visual constructs.
Essentially, the one sliver of moondust coming from my reflection of Tolkien is limited to two beams of light. The first falls every gracefully and covers the entire realm of the story in itself. The story is the reason I write and the very focus of the words. I loathe or at least limitedly abhor the craft of books for the sake of changing minds, manipulating political opinions and purposed allegory. Those may be elements of a story, but they shall never be the target for my verbose arrows. Nor I suppose are they wholly deplorable, but they strike at the back of my righteousness in a visciously subtle way.
The second beam comes pointedly as a intermittent laser light. A radiance found in word play and masterful usage regardless of verbose difficulty as surmised by the general public must pepper my writing. If that were to vanish into the methaphorical white pit that is paper, my writing would cease to be my writing. I desire to achieve the intentional verbosity of Chestertonion writing. Although, I have no wish to pursue his propagandist approach to writing. He is truly a rare example of skill and purpose that I can admire. AMDG was Chesterton's life, and in that aspect of his we can see the nobility of Thomas More's “I am the king's good servant, but the Lord's first.”
I will separate myself from other writers by learning about them. Furthermore, I will sharpen my wit amidst hard tasks and learn to not simply flex but extend beyond my usual reach.
