An Egg, Farries, and Various Evildoers

This unnamed story was the first I wrote for the sole joy of storytelling. I was eleven years old. Back then, I told anyone who would listen: "I'll never be an author! Writing makes my hand hurt; I hate it!"

Eleven-year-old Monique didn't know most books are done on computers. In young Monique's brain, every book she wrote would be done by hand and every copy afterward. Despite that, the call to authenticity drew young Monique back again and again; her head was filled with stories, and she wanted to share them.

"An Egg, Farries, and Various Evildoers" is predominantly a commentary on the first story I wrote; there is a transcription below each photo. Anything in bold italics, like so, is my commentary and was not part of the original story.

Chapter One: An Uneasy Feeling

My name is Jayne Anne Morrey (I was always good with names. I once named characters before I knew anything about them), and this is my story about a secret that I could not tell anyone, or else bad things might occur (Oh no, anything but bad things). It all started the summer of 2008. I was 14 years old, and in the 8th grade. (This was not my age or grade when I wrote this story, but the year is correct. I had no idea a story could start in a different year than the one it's written in, which made reading old Westerns both strange and impressive. This book survived 200 years? That's amazing!).

"Hey, Blue Jay!" Dad called. He's the only one that can get away with calling me that. "Start paking, 'cause tomorrow's August 15!" every year on the same day, of the same month, we go camping on the Coulumbia River. I dragged a huge suitcase down the stairs. (Repetition has always been a struggle for me. I once thought it was clever to use repetition as emphasis, but it gets too wordy and doesn't emphasize the way I want it to).

"Already packed, Dad!" I answered.

"Great!" I went to sleep that night. Tomorrow's the big day! I thought. Then, I felt a strange tingle creeping in my chest. That's strange. Normally I am extatic to go camping.

"Blue Jay! It's time to get up!" Dad called. I rolled out of bed, got ready, and climbed into the car. I felt the cold tingle get bigger, and bigger on the way there. When we arrived, the tingle was so big, that my whole body was tingling and freezing.

"C'mon Jayne! Let's go play in the stream!" My little brother called. I very slowely walked over there, and splashed my feet in the stream. Suddenly, something bumped me in the foot. I gave a little cry, but no one heard. When I looked at the thing at my feet, I noticed that it was a small, teal egg (I had an obsession with eggs around this age).

"Blue Jay! Come help us set up camp!" It's now, or never, I thought, and then, I hid the egg in my nice warm pocket. (That egg was definitely dead; a warm pocket will do nothing to save it).

"Coming, Dad!" I called back to him. What am I going to do with an egg that I don't even know what it is? I thought to myself.

Chapter Two: The beggining to the end of a normal life (I knew how to spell beginning at eleven; I'm not sure why it's misspelled here).

I slept uneasy that night. My dream, was about a very scary criminal who was after me! I woke up screaming, but when I woke up, I wasn't in my tent under a sleeping bag, but ontop of a puffy cloud! (I've learned how to use punctuation better, but it's still my greatest weakness as an author).

"What the?" I asked in a dazed attempt to figure out what had just happened.

"She's awake! The new Queen is awake!" a very distant voice said. In a flash, I was surrounded by... faries?!" (Different spellings of fairy that exist in this story: 1)

"Queen? No, I am just a normal girl who found an egg, having a bad dream." I answered, staring at each face. (An early attempt at 'the hero rejects the call' trope).

"Yes, but that egg just so happens to be the Princess of the Sea. And, the region of the sea controlls all the other regions." The most-likely leader of these flying people.

"And you just so happen to be... oh, I don't know... Fake!?" I shrieked in dismay. (Main character ignores everything that was said and continues with their prior thought trope).

"No. What we are telling you, is true. Your egg sent you a message tonight. Your dream of that criminal, is true."

"NOOOOO!" I shreaked. Suddenly, I was awake in my tent, again. "Oh, ground! If you weren't so dirty, I'd kiss you!" I said happily.

"Seriousely?" You would? Next is a wedding!" A very familiar voice said. I slowely looked over, to see... A FARRIE! "'Hi!' He said. (Different spellings of fairy that exist in this story: 2)

"Aaah!" I yelped. My life will NEVER be normal again. (Emphasizing words with caps lock is another version of showing instead of telling. At eleven, I didn't know how to properly emphasize; while it's still something I struggle with today, I have eliminated caps lock, repetition, and exclamation points as forms of emphasis)

Chapter Three: My Regrets to them!

Everyday that I walked to school, it was strange to me. Nothing was the same! over time, I learned more about this egg princess, and I even thought of a name! Princess Olana. I thought it was a beautiful name... Unlike Jayne, or Blue Jay. Then, one day, I had my first visit with the criminal. (I need some migraine medication for the whiplash I just got)

"My queen! I sense a great danger in the road ahead!" A g*pse faerie said (Yes, g*psy is a slur, forgive me for I didn't know that at this age. Also, different spellings of fairy that exist in this story: 3).

"Yeah, and that danger, is the creepy buff faerie up there!" I said, indicating a giant faerie trying to discuise himself as a statue.

"No, it is different!" She said in a very strange accent. (We are being told she has an unspecified accent instead of being shown that she has an accent)

"Hey, what's this?" I asked, reaching down to pick up a stone shaped like a heart.

"Why, my queen! You have found one of the 10 stones!" She cried with excitement.

"10... stones...?" I asked looking at her with annoyance.

"Yes! You must collect all 10 stones, before they fall into the wrong hands!" She said trying to make a point, but she failed to do so. (Doctor, I need more of that whiplash medication, please)

"What stone-thingie-ma-bober is this?" I asked, examining it (At least I knew to put hyphens in between).

"The stone of the rock region!" She said, bobbing up, and down.

"Whell, that is Definately NOT the most obviouse thing!" I said sarcastically. (I remember adding the "h" in well here because I wanted it to sound more like a sigh. But given all the other misspellings, it doesn't work. Even in a story where everything was spelled correctly, spelling "whell" that way looks like a mistake and not an intentional sigh)

"I know!" She cheered. Must not understand sarcasm. Shame. School dragged on, and on. In fact, I nearly fell asleep in boring Mr. Bon's room! Finally, school was over. (Exclamation points were my favorite punctuation. Now it's a semicolon for its versatility and meaning).

"All 8th graders to the gym, please, all 8th graders to the gym!" a girl on the announcements said (Nobody would go to the gym for any reason once school ended).

(I'm surprised I didn't start a new chapter here. At this age, I was oddly obsessed with everything being on one page, and I never used the backs of pages).

A strange tingle went through my body, like the wretched time when I found that stupid egg! I did not go into the gym, but I did listen in. (Why though? Did anybody notice? Teachers? Chaperones? Students?)

"Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha, ha!" It was the strangest sing-song laugh I had ever heard! "It is time!" the same voice said (I had a strange need to put words, any words, after a quote, even if it's part of the same paragraph) "Turn it on!" Turn what on? I wondered. One girl, my best friend, hid her face. What the heck is going on here?! Suddenly, all the eighth grader's eyes turned into a hypnotic swirrl! That is, except for my best friend. (If it was that easy to avoid, why didn't everyone look away? All side characters in my stories were a vague mob of sheep people.)

"Hey! You must be purified!" The man said. Suddenly, he went running at her... It was Mr. Bon!!!! (More exclamation points! We need more exclamation points! The audience won't know it's a plot twist otherwise!). My mouth fell down to the floor. He pulled her head up, and slowely pulled her hands from her eyes, as he said, "My sweet, sweet girl, think of all the possibilities!" right after that, her hands fell limp at her sides, and the same hypnotic swirrl was in her eyes. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I had to scream.

"NOOOOOOO!" (Yes, I counted all those O's to make sure it matched the original. No, none of them are necessary.) I shrieked, then I realized what I had just done.

"Sieze her!" Mr. Bon ordered one of his troops.

"Oh, crap." I said, then took off. 3 minutes later, the guards returned with me in their grasp (I guess we, the audience, didn't follow the main character as she ran for three minutes. Alright Jayne, see you when you get back; good luck storming the castle!).

"So, miss Jayne Anne Morrey, you are the queen that I have been looking for!" he exclaimed.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" I said in a hot persuit to escape (It's a hot pursuit because I watched way too many crime dramas with my mom. You're right, that's not the correct phrase to use in this situation).

"I know that you are lying. Only the girl with the egg could know not to come here. purify her! We can use her in my great plan! In fact, she is the key to my sucessful plan! (Jesus Mary and Joseph, please say "plan" again) I will raise that powerfull baby to be an evil creature!" he said. Man, he is really overdueing it! I thought. (This is show versus tell in the worst way possible; the audience should be able to recognize that something is being overdone without the main character commentating on it. Unfortunately, that commentary from the main character is necessary here because the entire story is "overdueing it")

The henchmen set up a special chair that would hold my arms, and legs down, keep my eyes open long enough to be under his spell, and turn me into a rediculouse walking zombie tool. (This scene was taken directly from an episode of Teen Titans with no alterations.)

"NOOO!" My scream broke my best friend's trance. (But only hers, because of friendship and sheep people)

"Jayne!" She srieked.

"Rudy, Help!" I called, but she fell right back into the stupid trance. I tried screaming again, but they covered my mouth. This is it. I thought. Then, I could feel myself getting relaxed as the moniter swirrled with happiness (I needed this in my life yesterday).

"Muahaha! (If he doesn't laugh like an evil villain, he's not an evil villain. Look, I don't make the rules, alright?) They say it takes a queen much longer to fall under the spell, but they always do!" he yelled, and amazingly, I didn't care! I tried to say on my guard (I didn't know what this phrase meant at this age but somehow still used it almost correctly), but... it was just soo comfortable! Like a soft pillow of pigeon feathers. I wanted to get frusterated, but the spell had full grasp on me. I was soo relaxed, that I felt like I could sleep forever, and ever (extra o's on words is how you emphasize things properly). Then, I fell asleep. I was walking in a forest of pine. It was so beautifull, so comforting. I lied down, and relaxed. The egg! Wait a minute... what egg? The trance is pulling me under! I must hold strong! The egg, the faeries, the stone... what egg? What stone? Are there such things as faeries? No, they are just a myth. Yes, just a myth, there was no egg. What is an egg? What is a stone? I know there is such thing as a rock, but what is a "stone"? (I had to put my head in my hands for a few minutes at the evolution of Jayne's thought process. There is no commentary that can make this more ridiculous than it already is) Still, why did it ring a bell? Along with "egg". Suddenly, my whole world was spinning. I was soo dizzy that I feinted (I'm starting to think adding an extra "o" to "so" wasn't meant as emphasis and I thought that's how it's spelled). When I woke up, I was in a dungeon! Suddenly, the bell in my head broke. The spell. The egg! The stone! The faeries (Oh good, I finally decided on a spelling for "faeries")! It all came back to me (I wrote a lot of stories in past tense. In the last few years, I've switched to present tense and active voice for most of my stories unless the story is a memoir or something that would be told in past tense. This story would be stronger in a present-tense active voice). Then, I realised that the spell had been broke. I almost jumped up, and danced until I feinted again, but then I realised that I still had a problem...

How do I get out of this dungeon... AND WHERE IS OLANA!!?! I felt in my poket, and pulled out a small, teal egg.

"Oh, thank goodness!" I sighed, and I clutched the egg in a warm, motherly hug. I climed to my feet... and Olana started glowing like a teal lamp! (In my recent works I've removed phrases like "starting to," "beginning to," "sort of like." I've found it gives my writing more confidence while reducing wordiness. I've always struggled with adding unnecessary words to sentences) I then saw a dog-hole.

"Great. now I'm a dog!" I cried. Still, I slid through the hole with the glowing Olana (Olana is not an object, they are a character. "The Olana" is so strange here). I had absolutely no idea where we were, but aparantly, Olana did! She glowed brighter, and brighter... until she was blinding! Then, I woke up.

"Huh?" I said outloud. When I looked on my night-stand, I saw the last of Olana's light depleating back into the egg. I checked my calendar and the time. It was January 23, Saturday at 10:00. That's strange. I thought. Today started out as Thursday... Oh whell1 I thought with greave excitement (Hey doc, at this point just give me your entire stock of migraine medication, I'll need it to get through the whiplash this story's giving me). Whait a minute...

"The stone!" I cried, but I looked on my shelf, and saw a small-heart-shaped gray thing in a glass bottle with the name of "Rock Region" on the bottle (Here it is again: repetition and wordiness). I got up, and for a while, had an average day... until the clock striked 12:00 (Before you ask, no, I don't know either). Then, the faeries came again.

"Why me? Why is this all happening to me? Ya know what, I regret ever even LOOKING at that egg. My regrets to Lane!" Lane is my little brother (This is not a good time to give that character a name).

"Why my queen! It is not your brother's fault" said a hippy faerie. "It is merely Flane, the faerie fate god" she went on (Remember when I said I've always been pretty good with names? Please revoke the star I earned from that)

"Whell then give my regrets to him!" I cried, and stormed off.

Chapter Four: Counting the Months

It was the end of April, and my egg had been moving around more than usual.

"Okay, you got the egg in August, right?" A beautifull faerie with leaves, and flowers all over her said.

"Yeah. August 15." I recalled.

"Lets see here... September, October, November, December, January, February, March, April- Oh, my queen!" Cried the "math faerie" (Months are not math and I can't be sure that my writing out these months wasn't an attempt to remember the months of the year).

"What, what, WHAT?" I asked, my eyes bulging with fright.

"Your egg will be hatching in 1 month, exactly!" He cried with excitement (I have no idea how many fairies are here, anywhere between one, who can change their gender at will, and a thousand because that's as high as I could count).

"Oh..." I said relaxing.

"Oh don't think it'll be that simple! In fact, Gertrude, or Mr. Bon, will be after you even more! The leafy faerie said (I didn't realize they were after Jayne at this point; it's been four months and all they did was put her in a dungeon with a big hole in the side of it).

"WAAAAAA!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Of course, I was up in the clouds again, so no one could hear me, except a herd of elephants who went charging toward some camera people (Ah yes, of course).

"Woops!" I said glancing down.

"Don't worry! We'll be with you all the way!" And THAT is sarcasm for dummies, because they didn't even know that they were using sarcasm.

Chapter 5, --

hold on! Before you go to the next chapter, I found 3 more heart-shaped stones! The forest region, the grassland region, and the water region, water is VERY powerfull. it makes me feel like an actual queen sometimes! (My attempts at humor were funny only to me even in 2008 when this was written. People laughed because they thought it was funny that I thought this was so hilarious when it isn't. Humor is hard, everyone has a different sense of humor and in writing, it's tough to get something funny to land right. Human speech is 90% tone-based and 10% words and phrases; in writing, we're limited by 90%, and it's inappropriate to tell readers the tone instead of showing them the tone).

Chapter 5: Robin, so beautiful you are! (if there is no more interuptions, OK, were good!)

I was walking home on May 2nd, Friday of 2008 (Remember earlier when I thought stories couldn't take place outside of the current year they're written? This story started in August of 2008, it's somehow now May of 2008 without time travel. We repeated 2008), and, remember how I said, "Sarcasm for dummies" I really meant it! The faeries were all on a spa day! So, I was all alone. The faeries also wanted to take Princess Olana for a baby-spa, so if anything happened, Olana was safe. I decided to take a different route, but without Olana, I wasn't sure if it was safe, or not (This egg hasn't done anything except glow, once. How would it tell you if a path is safe?). As i started up a hill, I saw a georgeouse robin with shining, sleek feathers. I crept close to it, and got within 4 feet of it, then it hopped down a dirt trail leading into a forest. I followed it. It's only a little way into the forest, I thought. The more I looked at the beautiful bird, the more I wanted to follow it. I did follow it slowely, untill it hopped through a hole in the fence. Well, it got away, I thought (What are paragraphs?), but as I turned to walk away, my boddy flipped back to the fence, and started to climb it! I realised that I had no control over my body's actions. The only thing running through my arms, and legs was, "Robin, oh beautifull, beautifull robin!" I passed a window, and looked at my eyes. They were blue! They were normally brown, but now they're blue! And, there was a strange sparkle to them, and they wouldn't open fully! I was so confused! When the robin looked behind it, and saw me, it flew ontop of a lampost!

"Uh-oh!" I said, then my body took off to follow the robin. Then, I sad cross-legged at the bottom of the lampost. My head flipped up. Now, I couldn't even look away from the robin's

beauty. It had me mesmorised! The robin is so beautiful! I thought. Then, I couldn't even think strait! these kinds of thoughts were the only thoughts running through my mind: Dear beautifull robin, sweet robin, gloriouse robin, oh robin, oh beautifull, beautifull robin! (I had a weird fascination with hypnotism when I was young. It's surprising this fascination didn't turn into a fascination with mind-altering drugs when I became a teenager). Then, the robin looked down at me, and started chirping. Amazingly, I could actually understand it (It was brought to my attention this last year that adverbs are a form of tell instead of show; the easiest way to spot them is words ending in "-ly." Same with words like "happy, and "angry," you shouldn't tell the audience what emotions your characters are feeling unless the situation demands it [i.e., a character saying "I'm angry!]. The audience should know through the author showing them how they are feeling. What about their actions make them seem angry, happy, sad? It didn't click with me until a friend of mine, met through Vocal, helped me understand)! After the robin was done chirping, I stood up, and new thoughts flooded my mind. These thoughts were: must follow robin's orders, must not refuse, must bring princess Olana to Bons! I started to walk away, but my "master" started chirping again (Here's another sentence with "started" unnecessarily thrown in there).

"Sweet, dear child" it chirped in the most beautifull voice I have ever heard. "In order for your new state to truely set in, you must go to sleep, and let me work on you." It chirped (And again, I had to put words after every quote. These days, I sometimes have a quote without anything before or after it; if it's obvious who is speaking or if there are only two people talking, extra words before and after are unnecessary baggage that slows the story down). No need to say anything else after, 'you must go to sleep' because my arms and head were already hanging lazily down. That stupid robin must have seen that I was having a tough time following orders, because he started a lullaby,

"Hush, sweet child of mine.

Yoouu will be sleeping,

faaster, than you know

it." (extra letters are thrown in because the audience can't possibly picture someone singing. It's impossible)

After that little part, I was asleep standing up. I wish I could have seen this next part, but of course, the stupid robin had lulled me to sleep. You can find out though! Just keep reading on!

This is a change in perspective that is really jarring. We are being told this from Jayne's perspective, regardless of how clever the next section is or how well-written it is, it will take the reader out of the story. This is no longer Jayne telling us a story; the story loses perspective.

I had no idea how to write chase scenes, no concept of show versus tell. My grammar and spelling left much to be desired, I knew nothing about tone, continuity, flow, character development or perspective. Comparing my work today, I'm proud of how far I've come. I'm proud that I kept writing stories even after people told me my writing was bad, uninspired, and strange.

Writing is a craft, like blacksmithing, not a talent one is born with. You practice and improve, you fail and you learn; you hone your skills until they are sharp, and work on your voice until it's uniquely yours.

If you ever struggle while honing your craft, remember: nobody is born writing. It doesn't matter where you started in your journey or who's better than you; what matters is you keep going and never give up. Dig your heels in when things get difficult; there is an award-winning author inside everyone.

I look forward to perfecting my craft and seeing how my friends grow in their own journeys. If you love the journey you're on, don't give up no matter how many people tell you to turn back.

Thank you for reading.