Do you like to write? and what about?

Hello all, I am a children's fantasy writer. I love the world of Fantasy because you can let your imagination go and there are no boundaries. no fact checking as well. My dream is for a producer to read one of my stories and make an animation. I could care less if i got paid or not. Just to be able to look at the TV or movie screen and say "I did that" I started with writing poems and short stories, and saved them all to look back upon. In 2012, i had mt first book published a Disney style children's story that got GREAT reviews but never sold to well. only about 1000 copies. But it was the first step in my dream. I am currently working on 2 books at the same time. part 2 to the first book i published and a second totally different story. My accident has put both of them on hold. I thought i would share a little bit of my writing in the next post and tell me what you think? And yes, you will see my name as one of the main characters. I always write envisioning me on the adventure! if you like me to continue posting more please let me know?

Children of Celainedhil Chapter 1 It was a quiet night in the forest of Bralin. All living things lay silent and still except for the old man, Braxton. A raggedy man with clothes fitting a pauper, whose adventures in life had aged him well before his time. He staggered his way into the small camp, his right leg dragging lifeless behind him. An old crippling wound received from the hands of goblins. It was a cruel reminder to all of what had befallen the men of the world. The tip of his brown, leather wrapped shoe gouged a path that trailed off into the woods then back again. He hobbled his way around, as silent as could be, combing the forest floor for fuel for the fire. His walking stick struggled to support his body and bowed under his weight with every step. Cradled in the crook of his arm were a few logs. Braxton leaned over to quietly place the wood down, only to have them slip from his grasp and clatter to the ground. The sound echoed in the deep silence of the night. Huddled masses, which once laid like piles of windblown leaves, unrecognizable in the dark, sprung to life. Young children, eyes glowing by the fire light, peered out beneath tattered blankets, sniffing the air like dogs chasing a scent. Their sleepless eyes focused on the line of trees that encircled the camp. One by one they slowly rested their heads once more and listened for any sound the forest may offer, before drifting back to sleep. “Hmmm” Braxton grunted. Then he picked up a log and tossed it upon the glowing embers. The fire crackled and spewed amber sparks that chased the smoke high into the air before losing their luster among the tall branches of the trees. “I did not see every head pop up when that wood fell,” he growled. Balancing on his good leg, he swatted the ground with his stick. The force behind the blow caused it to splinter at its end. “Up”, he yelled. “Get up—no one will sleep this night. Have you learned nothing?” A chorus a moans and sleep-filled yawns resonated across the camp. Children, none older than twelve, stood and stretched, dragging themselves up from their slumber and closer to the warmth of the fire. A young voice, innocent and frail, whined, “We did what you taught us Braxton, —we didn’t smell anything.” “Not all of you did,” Braxton grumbled. “Only a few.” Braxton hopped over to a log that sat by the fire. He lowered himself and with both hands, pulled his lifeless leg in front of him. Wincing and groaning as he massaged it up and down. He looked up and sneered across the campfire. “You kids will be the death of us all, if you don’t smarten up.” He stretched out his arms and arched his back till it cracked. Then he worked on his neck, twisting it left and right till he heard it pop. “What if I was a goblin that snuck into the camp? He yelled. “Not all of them smell foul enough that a half-asleep nose can get a whiff —what then?” Braxton’s body jerked forward feeling the point of a sword poking into his back, while fingers clenched around his throat. Braxton quickly gasped in a breath of air and held it in surprise. A young face, illuminated by the fire, appeared over his shoulder with a wide-eyed grin. “You would be a dead goblin, old man!” He whispered and his smile grew larger. Braxton rolled his eyes and snarled. “Niko, you fool!” Braxton flailed his arms behind him in an attempt to grasp him, but the boy was too quick and sprang safely away, running to the other side of the fire. Nikodemus was his name, but everyone called him Niko. He was the oldest of the children in the camp. And at the tender age of thirteen was already a cunning warrior and always on the lookout for the rest of the children. Some thought he never slept at all, since he would venture out into the dark and patrol the woods. But every morning when they awoke he looked rested and ready for the new day. The children began to laugh and joke at Braxton’s expense. They stood up to congratulate Niko, patting him on the back and cheering. Only to be silenced by the grumbles of Braxton. “A thief is what you are, a boy who burgles old men’s pride. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you—you —snake!” “As well you shouldn’t, Braxton, for I stole more than your pride,” Niko exclaimed. He held up his arm, and from his hand he let drop a silver charm that hung from a leather braided chain that Braxton wore around his neck. Braxton nervously searched with his hands for the necklace. A true fear came to him and a look of dismay. “Now boy—please—give that back to me,” he urged. His arm trembled as he held it out waiting for Niko to hand it back to him. Niko walked over to Braxton seeing the genuine concern in his face and placed the charm into his hand and turned and walked away. He stopped with his back to Braxton. “You know I wouldn’t make you look silly if you were a bit nicer to us kids.” “Nicer!” Braxton growled beneath his breath and reached down and grabbed a rock. He drew his arm back and let it fly at Niko. But a young boy who was sitting at the fire stood up and shielded him from the blow. The rock struck the boy on the head and he fell, face first to the ground. Niko spun around and saw the boy lying motionless, sprawled out in a death pose. Panic raced through his body, and he was frozen with fear. He stood staring, mouth open, unable to utter a word. Braxton leapt up on his one good leg and hopped and pushed Niko to the side and fell beside the boy, while the other children closed in around. “Back away—back away now. Give the boy some air.” Braxton grabbed the boy’s shoulders and rolled him over. A small line of red blood trickled from his forehead and down his cheek. Braxton used his sleeve and quickly wiped it away so none of the other children could see. “Sab—Sab, my boy, are you still with us.” He gave him a gentle shake. A slight moan uttered from Sab’s lips, and Braxton sighed with relief. “You tried to kill me!” Niko shouted and then placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Stand down Niko, don’t do anything foolish, your brother’s okay. I did not put my might behind the throw, and I was not trying to kill anyone. The rock was going to hit you in the bottom to get your attention, till he jumped in its path. Your brother’s courage is either going to get him killed or make him a hero someday. Either way it was damn foolhardy.” Niko squatted beside Braxton and Sab. “Yes, he must get that from his mother, because I am not like that and I take after my father.” “Braxton started to laugh. “Huh, you two are more alike than I care to reckon—stubborn and reckless.” “Will he be alright, Braxton?” “I believe he will be fine, although he’s got a horn growing out of his head now.” Sab began to open his eyes; he shook his head to clear the cobwebs and began to explore the bump on his head with his fingers. “Oh, my head,” he said, grimacing in pain. “Serves you right for jumping in where you didn’t belong.” Braxton snarled. He sat Sab up, and with a squint in his eye, trying not to show the pain, Sab looked to Niko. “I tried to catch it,” he said with halfhearted smile. “He must not throw as hard as you.” “Bahhh!” Braxton uttered, pushing Sab to the side and struggled to standup. “Too much like your brother you are,” he said to Sab. He began to bounce on his one good foot to keep his balance and turned to Niko and added, “And that’s not a good thing.” Braxton hopped back over to the log and sat down. In his hand was still clasped the silver charm and its chain. He opened his hand and stared at it, tracing by firelight the fine artwork with the tips of his fingers. Smiling ever so slightly at the memories it brought. Niko sat down beside him, looking curiously at the charm. “What is that? Does it have some sort of meaning?” Braxton smiled and held it between his fingers to show Niko. “This has many meanings. But it was meant to be a reminder.” He handed it over to Niko, who studied it carefully. Excited, he shouted, “Look, there is writing on it.” This attracted the rest of the children, and they all walked over to get a glimpse. “What does it mean? I have never seen this type of writing before?” Niko handed it back to Braxton, who had a smug look on his old face. “So you don’t know everything, do you?” He laughed. “This, child, is elvish writing, written over a thousand years ago.” “Oh, so you were just a child back then,” Niko snickered. “Very funny!” Braxton said, playfully slapping the top of Niko’s head. “Do you wish to hear the story or not? It is about time you children learn about our past from one who knows.”

I like fantasy, modern fantasy, post-apocalyptic, and horror. I can't write horror to save my life, but I can do modern fantasyou quite attentively.