Introduction

Welcome to my childhood.

Really, that's what this story is. I began writing Leeder's Grain at the age of ten years old and kept on world-building for six more years until I became disheartened by my own lack of skill. Looking back on the many pages I'd written; upwards of four-hundred single-spaced pages of listless, meandering storyline, history, mythology, and world-building, I'd realized there was no continuity or solid plotline, and my will to continue after so many years fizzled out. Over time this story became the symbol of my own ineptitude to complete a full project, to build a strong, functional plot. Despite this, it also came to symbolize how far I'd come since those days when I'd sit curled up in some corner of the house, or some forgotten park bench, notebook in my lap as I scrawled and scratched away elaborate costumes, stories, and characters out onto the blue-lined page.

It is, at it's basest level, a fairytale based on the simple concept of a strong and brave knight protecting the beautiful, delicate princess. However, this 'princess' isn't quite as delicate as one would expect, and the knight isn't quite the strong, handsome prince charming you'd hope for. I'd tell you more, but I'm not one to give away spoilers so early on.

I lived vicariously through fairytales, starting from the moment I learned to read. They were my breath, my sustenance, and the romanticism of it flowed in my veins. I was an inspired child; everything and anything that I saw influenced my scribbled words.

Sometime in late August, it occurred to me that perhaps I should take a second shot at the story. The world, the characters, the concept had been knocking about in my head for a good five years, and it was time to put it back down on paper. As a result, I've spent the better part of the past two months outlining the story, the characters, and strengthening the original concept until I had developed a semi-solid plot.

Then, about one and a half weeks ago, it all clicked together. Suddenly, I had inspiration. That drive was back. The urge to write until my fingers cramped was back. And write I did, until I was so exhausted that I couldn't make it through my classes without nodding off every few minutes. Eventually, I actually got a decent bit of sleep and righted my schedule (or twisted it as best as any writer can, really), and I'm back on track at a reasonable pace.

At this point, I am moving into the research phase, as the story begins to unfold beneath my fingertips. It is here, and now, that the story begins.