I have a great admiration for writing....... 

Here is piece of my work from my current story:- 'Thorn had found a carving of giant bird, a phoenix to be exact. Upon it rode a figure of a young girl. Thorns father had carved this in the tree for her one summers day, it was just the two of them and Thorns father, or Grantley as she liked to call him, was telling Thorn about one of his mystery stories. Very much like the ones that Thorn would read about Sherlock Holmes. Except her fathers' stories would involve great mystical creatures, and weird and wonderful worlds of no existence. Her father loved the symbol of the Phoenix and he decided to carve this in to the tree with is penknife. Thorn could still remember to this day the very words that he had said, they were still as fresh in her mind as they ever were, 'Rose honey, daddy has carved this here just for you, and when you feel down or if I'm not around come to it, speak to it, then make a wish, it will protect you, it shows a symbol of great bravery of love, hope and truth and think to yourself daddy carved this for me because he loves me and always will.' He then placed his hand on her heart. That was all that Thorn could remember.  'This was before he went and died,' Thorn thought to herself. 'You left me and you promised you wouldn't, you swore that you would be here for me and you left!' She screamed. She traced her finger around the shape of the phoenix, it was still felt as fresh as it always had been, from the day it was carved. In a calmer and quieter voice she spoke to the picture as if it was her father, 'Oh daddy I came here so many times wishing, praying that if I touched it then maybe, just maybe you would come back home to me and pick me up in your arms like you used to,' her voice began to tremble and a tear slowly swam down her rose red cheek. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling for a moment then carried on by saying 'I loved you so much and, oh the times that I came here and I pushed the phoenix with all my strength, I pushed in to it until I got splinters in my finger tips and I called for my daddy and you weren't there for me, you promised and now I will never hold you again, oh I loved you daddy, with all my heart' she stared to the sky as if to see his face and then gave a cynical laugh. 'Do you remember when you told me about the bush with blue flowers on it, the bush at the back of our garden you told me it was the home of hundreds of fairies, little fairies and that they lived in there making wishes come true and when we went outside and camped in the back garden for a night and I thought we might see a fairy... ,' she bowed her head as if to hide it, staring at the grass blades dancing peacefully amongst her feet. 'After you died I done the same thing every night for three months. I knew that if I saw a fairy I would ask them to bring me my daddy back, I even hoped that maybe you would come out from behind the bush, but...' She wiped her teary face and then yelped like a dog in agony 'Oh how could I have been so stupid! It was all stupid, magic and fairies don't exist and the most pathetic is the phoenix! What kind of symbol is this...? it symbolises nothing but mad dreams by a crazy old man.' She spoke as she moved her hand over the picture as if to rub it out with her hand. She took a deep sigh and then picked up her bag walking off in the direction in which she had came. After a few feet she turned around as if expecting her father to pop out from behind the tree, she had a frown etched on her face and all she could say was, 'I loved you daddy, I thought you loved me!' And continued to walk on following the path to the bus stop. ''    

I am also writing another story, whilst I am not writing this, as at times writing about one story constantly can become a little bit of a bore for me. (",) Despite this I do try to attmep to complete every story that I have begun to write, and all stories are 100%, purely from my imagination! although some are loosely based on my own life experiences. The story has a very bland name at present yet I feel that it describes the whole story. It is at present called 'The Ballerina.' 'The loose skeletal structure of the novel is about a girl and a very envious witch! The (girl) ballerina is the greatest dancer around and the witch, the second, only par use of magic! She feels threatened and transforms the ballerina in to a tuneful music box for all eternity! Despite being a music box her tune is broken and can never be fixed until the evil witches spell is broken. This being by a man, with the spell of true love!' Though this may sound like a very predictable romance novel at the moment, it is not! In fact it holds the key to a teenage controversy, and this story holds the answer, also the story does not go the way one might expect! To find out the end e-mail me and I may possibly give out clues asto how this beautiful story becomes much, much more! At present I haven't any piece of work I would like to attatch as I do believe this piece to be at very early stages in it's life, thus the very descriptive, yet bland name, and so as soon as I write something good enough for this site, I shall attatch it momentarily! This shall be followed by another entry in my 'Journal Of Importance.'