I used to be a nerd. A cute one. I was a cute nerd, because when I was young and impressionable, I was bitten with the writing bug. I went through a two year phase where I was obsessed with writing stories. They were surprisingly well-written for a 12-14 year old, but ultimately 100% focused on boys. Of course, what
else was on my mind at that age? ;D
And I was not the only one bitten by that particular writing bug. My best friend, Deveny was
also suffering from the same fever.
So without further ado,
Guess what I just found?
Our stories!
I started to read through them and found myself laughing out loud, blushing from the idiocy and naivety and ridiculousness of some of the stories. It's almost excruciatingly embarrassing how boy crazy we were.
I just had to share this. And even though Deveny might never forgive me for sharing this story, I just
had to. I picked this particular one because it conveys exactly what we were obsessed with at the time and is typical of our writing style. (And she was also the better writer at the time).
It was never officially finished, but here is Installment #1:
MY OWN STORY
The True Story of the Lord of the Rings
As Told by Deveny Mortensen
Part One: The Start of the Quest
Everyone has heard of the true story about Frodo and the One Ring, right? Wrong!
I was the real ring-bearer.
I was the one who had to endure all those terrible things. That's right, a
girl! They had to change the story because of what I did, but I'm getting ahead of myself. This is my story.
First let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Deveny and I live in the world of Men. My father, Charden, is a trader. He trades with the other people of Middle Earth. Usually it's Hobbits and Elves. Sometimes he takes me with him on his travels but I have never been to see the Elves. My mother, Belsong, hates me to go with father. She says it's not a place for a woman and that I should be home helping her clean our house. I hate cleaning.
I love going with my father because on the way to our destination he would tell me stories about dragons that lived long ago (especially Ancalagon the Black, the greatest of all dragons) and a hobbit named Bilbo and Bilbo's adventures. But my favorite stories were about the Elves. He would tell me about the famous city of Rivendell and the kind but dangerous people there. I could just see them at their parties at the Great Hall. I had decided long ago that I would go to Rivendell one day.
I also have a little brother named Windel, who is twelve years old. He can be a pain but we get along usually. We have a pretty big gap in our ages but we try to hang out together. I even have a nickname for him, which is Dell.
That brings me to my age. I'm eighteen, with long brown hair and blue eyes. My mother has been trying to get me to marry and move out but I just don't feel like committing to anything yet. My father could care less and so we never fight about it like my mother and I do.
Well now that you have an idea of where I come from and who I am, I'll get on with my story.
It was on a Tuesday morning when I heard about my father's latest trip he was taking. Of course I was going.
"Father, where are we going this time?" I asked, eagerly.
"Oh, just to Hobbiton. I have some last minute trading I need to do before the big fair next week. It's also Bilbo's birthday and I should pay my respects to him," my father said absently. He was often found with his head in the clouds. Some people said that it is because he isn't smart or all there, but he just has a lot on his mind.
"No! I am not going to let my daughter go this time. She is eighteen and should be staying here helping me," my mother interrupted.
"Mother, I've helped you all my life and I need some time away from here," I replied.
"Chardan, you will not let our daughter go, will you?" my mother asked, staring at my father. Pulled out of his thoughts, he turned to look at us.
"Deveny not go? Of course she is. I need her more than you do, my dear. Deveny, don't you think you should go pack before we leave? We'll be going first thing in the morning."
I grinned and headed towards my room. This was the time when my father would consult with my mother and make everything alright. He always had a way of making her see his way.
I pulled out my satchel and put some clothes in it. I wouldn't need a lot since Hobbiton was only two days travel from where we live. We used to go there a lot when my uncle lived there. We would go visit for weeks at a time and I would play with my cousin, Frodo. Frodo and I became best friends that first summer even though he was about three years older than me. I hadn't seen him for over four years so I was really excited to hear that we would be going there.
You might think that since I'm related to Hobbits that I am one, but it's not true. My mother came from Hobbiton. She had to leave it when she met and married my father, who was, of course, a man. Everyone thought he would leave her later but when they came back with their baby (me, of course) everyone forgot all those rumors. My mother wanted to stay in the Shire because she had friends and of course her brother was there, but my father's job didn't allow it.
So I'm a little of both, human and hobbit. I'm 5'2", which is the average height for a grown hobbit. At least it is for the hobbits in Hobbiton, since there are all kinds of different hobbits. So I didn't feel that out of place when I went with my father to visit. My father though, is about 6' and seems to tower over the little hobbit people. I guess I inherited my mother's height.
[Comment: I should point out, that Deveny didn't write 6'. She wrote 5'12", which made me laugh].
Suddenly I heard a knock at my door. In came my mother to see how my packing was coming along.
"Honey, I know you really want to go with your father but won't you even consider staying here? You know how I hate you to go to strange places," she said, as any over-protective parent would.
"Mother," I sighed, "I'll be fine. And it's not some strange place, it's your old home! I'll be fine, really," I reassured her.
She nodded and stared at me for a while. Then all of the sudden, she turned to face my window but not before I saw a couple of tears. Instantly I felt guilty and went to hug her. Of course she knew I was going to be safe, but she was really worrying about how she would miss me.
"The house will be pretty quiet without you," she admitted.
"What? Without Dell and me screaming at each other? Don't tell me you'll miss that!" I said jokingly.
She gave me a little smile and hugged me tight. Even though my mother and I don't always get along, we still love each other a lot.
"Well, I'll let you get back to packing," she said, wiping a tear away. "I'd better go help your father pack. You know he forgets the simplest things."
I laughed too as she walked out. It was true, my father could go on a week long trip and forget a toothbrush or something. I told you he gets preoccupied.
After dinner it's a custom in my family to talk about the day around the fireplace. But tonight I wasn't paying attention to Dell's version of a game he played at school. I was thinking about Hobbiton and Frodo. I wondered what he would look like after these last four years. I quickly told them about school and then asked if I could go to bed. After a little tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep.
End of Installment #1.
Are you enjoying it enough for Installment #2?
