Yeah. As I doubt many of you know, I'm actually an amature-hobby-authering-like-thing. Whatever you wonna call it, really.
Anyway! I've been debating writing a novel. You know, typical fiction knights, dragons, excetera setting. Though I do enjoy writing, I feel commiting to something like a novel would be, well, tiring.

Regardless! I ask you, the knowledgable and enwisened community of WoHP, for your thoughts on the topic.

~ Teh Blubie.

If you do write it! You so have to post it so we can read it! *nods*

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Novel as in novel or as in few page slaptogether?

Once tried to write a 100 page mini-novel. Got to page 60 before the computer went poof. Forgot to create a backup for it you see.

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If you do something stupid, be prepared to be mocked about it.

Finishing a novel is a current goal of mine too... I think that writing in general really gives people a new perspective of life in general.

I also second the comment on posting it... cause I want to be one of those people that will go around saying "I knew Blubie before all the fame and fortune."

Go nuts. Post if though

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You're all a bunch of floppy wanded Dementor buggerers

Ravenclaw's Unofficial HP Trivia Champion.

Paul Millington - Seventh Year Ravenclaw

I've heard it said that you're not an author until you've been published. To be a writer, all you have to do is write. A lot. And love it. And invest in a spell checker and pick out a nice grammar guide if you want to be a good one, maybe. And read and pay attention to other good writers, like Nik and RT.

Alrighty. If any of you laugh, or so much as smirk, I am going to hunt you all down and pound you 'til you bleed...

Prelude:
Long after the fall of mankind and centuries after the Division Of Race, a prophecy arose. There would be a great darkness which would spread across the land, changing all it touched. This darkness would terrorize the races for an entire century, until the coming of the Lightbringer, the only source of light able to penetrate the darkness. For decades, this prophecy was considered nothing more then a fairy tale, filled with magic and dragons, damsels and heroic knights. None of the people believed this fairy tale, known to all the races, would become truth with the birth of a child. Born of innocence, this child was no different from any other. Not on the surface. However, below his skin festered the Wake, the last of the Shattering Art, able to shape the world, or ultimately destroy it.
This child, small and scrawny, though far from unattractive, with chestnut brown hair, dark eyes, and sun-tanned skin, was of the race of Manlings. The purest of human blood left after the Division Of Race. His grandfather had named him Envy, which was considered a name from the Ancient Tongue, as English had been forgotten in all but the oldest of books. Envy's mother was a prostitute, and thus his father was never known. When Envy was a small child, little more than an infant, his mother died of an illness contracted through her trade. This left Envy to his stern, loveless, and compassionless grandfather. The boy never went to one of the churches, which was where children were taught of the Gods, of literacy, tongues, trade, and farming; all the things they would need to be a productive member of the community. Envy never learned any of that. Instead, he had lived in fear of the closest thing to family he had, cowering to his forceful, and often unreasonable grandfather's every whim.
Towards all others, Envy felt as his name suggested. He wished more than anything, that he could swap lives with other children of the village. This grew with him over time, and eventually it became him wishing his pain and suffering upon others completely. This was never a problem at all until until the boy's innate abilities began to develop. It was nothing serious, to begin with, Envy found he could perform little tricks. Such as making small objects levitate. Having always craved the respect and, more importantly, acceptance of his abusive grandfather, Envy decided he would display his powers to the old man in a little show. This had the opposite effect than what Envy had hoped for and desired. His grandfather scowled him, beat him, and told him never again to use his power. In truth, Envy's grandfather was not only afraid to draw attention to the means of which he 'cared' for the child, but that he was different from others. In the community of Manlings, to be different was to be considered dangerous. And to be considered dangerous by other Manlings was to have yourself and all your relatives put to a swift death.
When he came of age, having managed to survive under his grandfather's heel for fourteen years, Envy's power, the Wake grew amazingly. It became so much more than making spoons float; everything Envy desired happened for him. His wishes of suffering upon those around him came true, giving Envy an overwhelming feeling of false joy. Envy had become so hollow, all he craved left with his life was revenge. He found that with every life he touched with his power made him grow stronger, though it had disastrous effects upon the one touched; tainting both their body and their mind, making them become monsters. Though he began tainting the village's people at will, coming to be worshiped like one of the Gods, Envy never harmed his grandfather. He had greater plans for the old man. When he tired of the world he had created, Envy decided to take his ultimate revenge on the man whom had almost broken him, time and time again. Using the Wake, he destroyed the man's mind. Causing him to fear everything, to be unable to think at all, and to see only the darkest horrors of his imagination.
After sentencing his grandfather to his punishment, Envy surrendered to the urges of power, losing his body in the process. He became the embodiment of darkness, spreading across the land in every direction slowly. Changing all he touched.
Envy had become the darkness.

well is good, not bad for a start.

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Pedro Miguel, seventh year, Slytherin
Tom Mystrus, third year, Ravenclaw
Angelicus Spellmoon, fouth year, Griffindor