Reading Diary B - African Stories

African Stories

Makoma is a African, specifically Zimbabwe, legend of a great warrior and his quests through danger and triumph. Here is  a summery of his ventures as his many tales are long and wordy and would take up a lot of space and require the viewer to perhaps read more than expected.

Makoma was born different than regular boys, he grew fast and strong at a higher rate and was destined for greatness. He gave himself the name Makoma after being nameless and jumping into a crocodile pool and killing them all. When he rose out of the pool of blood he said "I am Makoma" which means "Greater."

He then ventured away to become a hero. He cam across a mountain making giant. With his iron hammer 'Nu-endo' he struck the giant who charged at him and the giant shrank to a small man. He gained the giants strength and threw the now small man into his sack.

After more venturing he came across another giant who hurled the earth around making rivers, proceeded to provoke him by saying he was greater like he did the former, and struck him and so on and so fourth. Now he had two giants that were now small men, in his bag.

He came across a third giant who planted great trees. He challenged him, dodged a thrown tree, struck him with his hammer Nu-endo, and again put him in his bag as another servant.

He then came across a man eating fire in a barren land. Another challenge was issued, Makoma dodged the flame spirits fire breath, threw his hammer at him, and defeated him, again placing him in his bag and retrieving his power.

"And now, truly, Makoma was a very great hero for he had the strength to make hills, the industry to lead rivers over dry wastes, foresight and wisdom in planting trees, and the power of producing fire when he wished."

Makoma and his now loyal servants set camp at a nice oasis of sorts by a river. A river spirit would be the next challenge. His long grey beard be the mist that hovered on top of water in the morning. The spirit and Makoma would do battle, but this one more difficult. Nu-endo slipped off the slimy spirits body and Makoma got trapped in the long grey hair. He then blew fire from his mouth burning the hard and struck the spirit killing him.

Makoma would have a vision from his ancestors that would tell him he would grow weary and go crazy if he not find and defeat the spirit Sakatirina alone. Makoma gave his servants back their powers and set off. He came to two mountains, Sakatirina's feet. He strike them, nothing happened, he light fire to them, nothing happened, then he was picked up by a huge hand from the clouds and proceeded to wrestle with Sakatirina for two days, shaking the earth and sky, until they both passed out exhausted. Mulimo great spirit deem them both the greatest of warriors and deserving to live in the clouds with him. So they did. The end.

Thoughts
Makoma, the Zimbabwe Zoom, the Make em Coma, the Shaka Zulu of the North, the Mighty Makoma (all knick names I just gave em besides the last haha). What a beast. It is good reading about African cultures as I am some African American, and we just aren't taught a lot about African mythology or folklore in any context in the United States. So this was definitely refreshing for me.

originally titled in link:

"skirt manly as fuck - you own a hyena,

you have a skirt, you're manly as fuck"

so lets keep that lol

Reading Diary A - Asia - Japanese Mythology

Japanese Mythology

The Eight-Forked Serpent of Koshi
One day Susa-no-wo discerned a chopstick drifting down the River Hi and, deeming that there must needs be folk dwelling in the country above, set forth questing what manner of men they might be.

When he had journeyed far into the forest fastnesses he came upon a grey-bearded man and an aged crone weeping, with a fair maiden set between them, whom they caressed as though bidding her a last farewell.

Susa-no-wo saluted them courteously, saying: “Who are ye, Gods or mortals? For ne’er before have I beheld Children of Earth in these lone mountains.”

Thereupon the greybeard answered: “Thy humble servant, Great Augustness, is a deity of earth cleped Ashinadzuchi (Foot-stroke Elder), son of the Mountain-God. My wife is Tenadzuchi (Hand-stroke Elder), and this damsel is our daughter, Kushinada-hime (Wondrous-fair Princess).”

“Why lament ye thus piteously?” asked Susa-no-wo, and the aged man answered: “Alas, most honourable Lord, we bewail the loss of our eight beloved daughters, who, year after year, have been slain and devoured by the terrible eight-forked serpent of Koshi. Time is that the loathly monster cometh and this our last remaining daughter will surely perish. Wherefore do we grieve exceedingly.”

“Tell me,” entreated Susa-no-wo, “what manner of fish is this monster?”

“It hath eyes as red as a ripe mountain cherry, a noisome blood-inflamed body, armed with eight fearsome heads and eight forked tails. Moreover its back is all overgrown with firs, cedars, and pines, and it trails its tortuous coils over eight valleys and as many mountains.”

Quoth Susa-no-wo: “Aged stranger, I will gladly slay the loathly dragon, if thou wilt but give to me this thy beauteous daughter in marriage.”

“With all reverence be it said,” replied the father.

“I am ignorant of thine august name.”

“Thou beholdest in me,” boasted Susa-no-wo, “none other than the brother of the glorious Sun Goddess Amaterasu, Heaven-descended ruler of Yamato.”

Whereupon the deities Ashinadzuchi and Tenadzuchi made no further ado, but assented joyously to his request.

Forthwith Susa-no-wo took the maiden from the arms of her honourable parents and transformed her into a many-toothed comb which he thrust into his dishevelled hair.

He then bade the aged crone brew a great quantity of sake of eightfold strength, and fashioned a rampart of pointed logs wherein he hung eight goodly doors. At each portal he set a vast vat which he filled with the sake of eightfold strength. Then, with the utmost deliberation, he awaited the coming of the dread monster.

After a little the great serpent came lumbering its enormous carcass over hill and ravine until it reached the rampart of pointed logs. Here it paused at the portals and lapped up the liquor with its eight forked tongues. Whereupon it became unseemly drunken, laughing hilariously, slashing and cavorting its several tails like one bewitched, until, overcome little by little by a great drowsiness, it lay down to sleep.

Thereupon Susa-no-wo of a sudden drew his ten-span sword and slashed the monster into a thousand fragments. A river of blood gushed from each separate head, and as he severed the last remaining tail the edge of his august sword was notched. Marvelling greatly, he slit the tail of the serpent and discovered therein a miraculous sword, the divine Kushanagi (Herb-queller), which he delivered to the God of Heaven.

Then Susa-no-wo retransformed his many-toothed comb into the beauteous Kushinada-hime, whom he wedded forthwith in the province of Izumo, composing for that occasion the following verses:

Like high ramparts manifold
Lo the clouds appear:
On all sides they firm enfold
Kushinada dear,
Prisoned mine for e’er to hold
In their ramparts manifold!

Thoughts
Again, kinda hard to read, almost like they are writing with a British accent haha. I bounced back to Japanese mythology after last week (week 6) because Yamato the great samurai was just a really good inspiration. Susa-no-wo was a dragon Yamato slayed I could have recalled but maybe it was very similar. In this story Susa is the warrior that slays a great eight-headed dragon with trees on his back, to earn a beautiful wife and save a morning family from grief.

Japanese style is cool to me from the dress to the warrior code. Their dragons are really classic as well. They are kind of what we think about as a young boy anytime a dragon is mentioned. Dragon Ball Z had a big influence on any youngin of my generation and lower. My little brothers even love it, and that show includes a great forest green dragon with a yellow belly, stag antlers and the stash whiskers Japanese dragons are known for. Japanese historical culture is very fascinating to me.

Japan

Week 2 Storytelling - THE Pack

An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs

an Aesop fable

The original story // Inspiration // * Read first for a better understanding:

The Wolves found themselves in a great Straight once how to deal with the Dogs, they could do well enough with 'em one by one they saw, but were still worsted and over-born by Numbers. They took the Matter into Debate, and came at last to this conclusion: That unless they could make a Party among them, and by a Parcel of Fair Words and Pretences, engage them in a Confederacy against their Masters and Themselves, there was no good to be done in the matter.

Upon this, they sent out their Spies among the Dogs, with Instructions to go to those among them that were nearest their own Make, Size and Colour, and to reason the matter with them, after this or the like manner. "Why should not we that are all of a Colour, and in a manner all of a Kind, be all of a Party too, and all of an Interest? You'll say perhaps, that your Masters, and your Fellows may take it Ill, and pick a Quarrel with ye. Well, and what will they be able to make on't then, against You and us together? If it comes to that once, 'twill be but One Push for all, and the Work is done."

This Discourse wrought as well as Heart could wish; for a great many of the Wolf-Colour'd-Dogs cry'd out, "Well mov'd upon't," and so went over to the other side.

And what came on't at last, but that after the Dogs had Deserted, the Wolves Worry'd one Part of their Enemies by the help of the Curs that went over to them; and they were then strong enough to destroy the Revolters themselves.

____________________________________________

THE Pack

Inspired by the original Aesop fable:
An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs

Pack of Wolves
Deadliest of the forest.
Nature's canine.
Swift, enduring, and structured.
Killers to survive.

Herd of Buffalo
Strongest of the plains.
Thundering bunch.
Gentle giants, constant grazers.
Movers to survive.

Pride of lions
Deadliest of the savannah.
Warlords of the golden grass.
Powerful, athletic, structured.
Killers to survive.

Pack of Humans
Bringers of death to whatever we choose. 
Chaos creators. Atomic bomb makers.
Wipes out heaps of land with a gentle push of a button,
followed by a bright flash and bang.
Rioters. Destroyers. Dominant over the helpless.
Takes nature's innocence like a murder takes a life.
Removes ugly life-giving trees,
like a toddler tosses broccoli off its plate.
Rips open the sky with burning black fuels.
Requires everyday machines of destruction.
Manipulators of everything we touch.

Deadliest pack of them all...

The Deadliest Pack 

_______________________________

Author's Notes

My story is inspired by an Aesop's fable named An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs found in Fables of Aesop and Other Eminent Mythologists by Roger L'Estrange (1692). To summarize, the wolves in L'Estrange's story are outnumbered while the dogs have plenty, but the wolves still plan to wage war. They use a 'divide and conquer' tactic to convert 'wolf-like' dogs to their side and tilt the numbers in their favor. They then attack and kill the dogs with the help of their converts. But in the end, they kill the wolf-like dogs because they are not truly wolves themselves. Its a twisted story of manipulation, war, and dominance. t's almost like a wolf/dog revolution. Wolves hail victorious through savagery, tactic and will. They are the dominant pack. My story doesn't necessarily have a plot like L'Estrange's, but it definitely has a moral. Humans are the top dog. We are the deadliest pack, not the wolves. Humans are clearly the most dominant force on earth besides the natural phenomenon of extreme weather, but even then we have found ways to combat and control that. We have locked away the other animals, and have slowly disrupted this world into a irreversible paradise of decrepitude.

I am not too extreme but in the instance of writing, and for creative writing's sake I like to be somewhat dramatic. I definitely strayed far away from the original story and all that seems to be left in my story is a violent manipulative tone and the idea of one dominant pack - that being the humans. Now I comment as humans and our destruction of the earth:

Yes, I think fossil fuels are bad and we need to hurry up and find alternative energy, but I also know we depend on these types of things and they are conveniences to us. We ,however, as humans, are historically violent, from sport, to rioting, for our passions, stubborn ways, and all of our other flaws. My competitive nature doesn't mind some of the violence, I think being a gladiator sounds amazing, but these are just words of course, and real situations bare real feelings, not just words on a blog. But humans can be too much, our social issues, and mass wars, and ill manipulation of technology will be our downfall.. Even for the nice people, the do-gooders, the innocent, and helpful. Most of us stand on the line of good and bad. Reality is the only true measure.

Author's Back to Chill Notes - So wow I got too real for a second, I dislike that. Back to chill mode I go haha (smiley face emoji) with some FIFA, Trap music, Gatorade and trash talk to the roomie. Hope you enjoyed it.

Humans are the deadliest pack of wild things around. Like my teacher Laura said, "we are more wolves than wolves, more lions than lions!" We are the survivors. The beast. The warriors. We are naturally violent. Think about the history of war and the warriors we honor and the ones that are forgotten. The history of the earth is written in blood. The sword is the pen. The warrior the poet. I use this as a  transition from the wolf to the warrior. More stories to come.

Essay - Interpretations from Classical Narratives to Disney Movies

The major connection I made with Week 6 readings were a connection to Disney. I read the Labors of Yamato which I interpreted to a Japanese Hercules and A Child of the Woods which I thought closely related Jungle Book or Tarzan.

Yamato is a super bad ass Japanese samurai that has tasks similar to Hercules. He even has to slay a dragon/serpent and beast of a boar as Herc does. Both are prime specimens of their societies. Both become warrior class. Both work with great swords. Both embark on quests beyond belief. They are pinnacles of their culture and revered as so, Yamato to the Japanese, and Hercules to the Greek/Roman.

Hercules is also a famed Disney movie in which many little boys and girls have seen. Disney is a part of our child hood. It is how we learn about different cultures and their stories before we ever even take a seat in elementary school. A Disney Yamato movie would be cool, but a rated R, computer generated graphics, blood splatter, crazy effects, 300/Troy type of Yamato movie would be better haha.

This same conversion into Disney classics was present to me in the Laos story - A Child of the Woods. A little girl runs to the jungle to be raised by nature and lives happily, protected by wild cats and other beast while she sleeps under trees, only to return to civilization a better person and love for all. Kind of sounds like Mogli and the Jungle Book story, which is also a Disney convert. Could also relate to Tarzan, another Disney movie. All have a child raised in the jungle. All have a big wild cat or two. All try and convert back to civilization at the end. So many connections. These were interesting to me. Disney is a cult haha.

Disney Is A Cult

Reading Diary B - Asia - Japanese Mythology

Japanese Mythology

The Labors of Yamato: The Dragon
(Part I)
Exulting in his victory Yamato descended the forest-clad slopes of Fujiyama.
Joyous at having regained the Sacred Sword, his heart leaped with a greater happiness. At last he realized that not for love of him but to gain the Sacred Sword had Benten woven her guileful web, and his heart yearned for the faithful Tacibana.

But first, he told himself, he must visit the sorceress to charge her with treachery and theft. He hastened to their trysting place and, gazing into the jade-green water, presently perceived the glitter of her golden scales. Yamato plunged headlong in pursuit of the fleeing siren and the dark wave closed above him.

As a stone cast into a bottomless well sank Yamato, and ever, as he descended, the sea crooned in his ears a sweet yet sorrowful slumber-song bodeful of love and death. Then was he mindful of returning earthward, but of a sudden he felt himself enveloped by the folds of a loathly serpent, and a chill struck to his very heart.

The song of the sea became louder and more articulate till he recognized the voice of Benten: “I hold thee for ever,” sang the siren. “Thrice have I held thee, and thrice hast thou eluded my grasp. Henceforth none may wrest thee from me, save a goddess whom thou shalt acclaim more beautiful, whose love is even greater than mine own.”

Then dim and far, above the endless leagues of jade-green water, Yamato was ware of the Princess Tacibana gently murmuring his name. Through the infinite depths he beheld her lovesome face smiling to him from out the dusky cloud-rifts of her hair.

Then knew Yamato that “the goddess more beautiful than Benten whose love was greater than her own,” was none other than his faithful Tacibana.

Downward, like the tendrils of some miraculous vine, grew the dusky tresses of Tacibana. They enveloped Yamato in a fragrant cloud and enlaced him in the meshes of a silken net. Like strong encircling arms they upbore him, through endless leagues of water, to the sea-swept isle of Enoshima.

Tacibana, pitiful and wan, gazed anxiously upon him. Her warm white hands clasped his in fond solicitude. He strove to speak, but a great weariness overcame him, and he fell upon the breast of his faithful Princess.

When Yamato came to himself, Tacibana had vanished, whither he knew not. “She hath gone for help and will presently come again,” he said within himself, but hours passed, and she did not return.

Distraught by vague forebodings Yamato turned his steps toward Kashiwa-bara.

He found the city in a state of utter panic. Their household chattels piled upon bullock-carts or borne upon their bended backs, the terror-stricken natives were rushing hither and thither as though surprised by a sudden conflagration.

Demanding the cause of their alarm Yamato was informed that a terrific dragon had descended upon the land, slaying cattle, devastating rice-fields, and overwhelming the people with pestilence and death.

When last descried the monster was entering the royal palace, whence lamentable cries had issued telling the fate of its inhabitants.

Yamato hastened thither. All was silent and deserted. From cellar to turret he rushed, calling frantically upon Tacibana, only to find a mass of mangled and lifeless bodies. He searched gardens and outbuildings, following trails of blood, but nowhere could he discern trace of his lost Princess.

Of a sudden he heard a sound as of a priestess chanting, and mounting a Pagoda found Tacibana clad in white vestments waving a wand, and chanting the norito.

Suddenly her voice was whelmed in a terrific uproar. The Thunder God Raiden beat furiously upon his drums; great leaden clouds shut out the sky. Futen, the Wind God, unloosed his tempests, while with a flash of forked lightning, from a rent in the midnight sky, hurtled Susa-no-wo, Dragon of the Sea.

His head was like a camel, his horns were like a stag, and his eyes were glowing coals of fire. Scaled like a crocodile, he brandished a tiger’s paws, armed with the talons of an eagle.

Belching forth the steam of a score of geysers and rearing itself upon its terrible tail, the dragon charged at Yamato.

(Part II)
Dexterously evading the onslaught, he thrust, lunged, and slashed, burying his blade in the dragon’s belly, but in vain; at every stroke he was enwrapped more closely in the great constricting coils.

Thus the battle raged, the reptile answering each stroke with an ever-tightening grip, until it seemed that the hero’s strength would fail. But Yamato, gathering himself in one supreme effort, thrust his sword to the hilt in the dragon’s throat.

With lightning-like convolutions, the monster strove to wrest the blade from the hand of his antagonist, and then with a thunderous battering of wings soared in air. Writhing in its death-throes it hovered a moment, and then fell crashing to earth.

Yamato heard afar the voice of Tacibana chanting: “Henceforth shall all evil and calamity through writhing reptiles for ever disappear, as the wind of morning blows away night’s chill-enfolding mist. As ships sailing from the harbour so shall these evil spirits be borne to the Sea Plain, then swept through the Whirlpool Gate to Yomi, that the earth be rid of them for ever.”

Yamato lifted his weary lids to behold the wondrous smile of Tacibana.

“My divine Lord,” she murmured, “thou hast delivered me for ever from Susa-no-wo.”

“Henceforth, my Beloved,” replied Yamato, “naught may part us. No longer shall our arch-enemy defile the land. Hereafter hath he power alone over the sea.”

Full long and joyously lived Yamato with his ever-loving wife.

One day, in the month of the watery moon, he fared forth upon a foray against the tempestuous Ainos. Loth to hazard the toilsome mountain passes, he chose rather to embark his army upon the sea.

Princess Tacibana, in sore distress that her lord was in no mind to renounce this venture, implored to be permitted to accompany him.

Laughing away her fears, Yamato consented: “‘Tis my last fight,” he declared. “Henceforth will we spend our days in never-ending peace.”

When they had journeyed to the wave-washed shores of Idzu, Yamato exclaimed exultingly: “Why should I fear to encounter Susa-no-wo upon the sea since I have already conquered him on land?”

Whereupon the Sea God, angered at the defiant words of Yamato, raised a mighty tempest. The rains descended and the winds blew and beat upon the ship. Thunderbolts crashed about them and lightning blinded their eyes. Great billows swept the decks, sails were rent in ribbons, and masts were split in twain.

Out of the depths he heard a siren singing: “Reckless Yamato, thou hast adventured upon my ever-verdant Sea Plain and defied my father, the God of Ocean. Therefore shalt thou perish, else another victim be granted me.”

In the seething emerald waters Tacibana beheld a mermaid stretching out moon-blanched arms.

Forgetting his former infidelity, she resolved to sacrifice herself in the place of her beloved lord. “Take me, Benten, to thy watery kingdom, “cried the Princess, then plunged into the foam-flowered waves.

Of a sudden the tempest abated, the sea was calmed, and a snow-white heron soared upward to the sun.

“With thee let me live or perish!” cried Yamato, leaping into the jade-green sea.

Long he battled beneath the wave, groping through the depths for his faithful Princess. At last he rose bearing in his arms a white and lifeless burden. The snow-white spirit of Tacibana had soared to the Eternal Land.

“Alas, my beloved wife!” sobbed Yamato, “may the foam-flowers bloom for ever on thy grave!”

From the lament of Yamato, the eastern province of Japan is still known as Azuma, “Alas! My beloved wife.”
_____

Thoughts
The style of writing is very descriptive, a little complex, but very beautiful. Here are some perfect examples 1. "gazing into the jade-green water, presently perceived the glitter of her golden scales" 2. "the sea crooned in his ears a sweet yet sorrowful slumber-song bodeful of love and death" are just a few examples 3. (Describing the dragon!) "His head was like a camel, his horns were like a stag, and his eyes were glowing coals of fire. Scaled like a crocodile, he brandished a tiger’s paws, armed with the talons of an eagle." 4. "With lightning-like convolutions, the monster strove to rest the blade from the hand of his antagonist." and 5."Tis my last fight,” he declared. “Henceforth will we spend our days in never-ending peace." - so beautiful, all of it. A romance, tragedy, war story. I like.

The stories instantly reminded me of Hercules 12 labors. Yamato is the Japanese Hercules. The Samurai Hercules. Sounds way cooler haha. Samurai are probably my most favorite warrior fighting it out with maybe Spartans. The dragon story specifically made me think of Beowulf with as they both include great dragons and a scaly beautiful siren. Then I thought of Smaug from the Hobbit... So many thoughts. So many references. Yamato seems an honorable but victory/war-drivin. For glory. That's my motto. Perhaps Yamato might be a warrior in one of my descriptions.

Japanese dragon

Reading Diary A - Asia - Laos Folklore

Laos Folklore

A Child of the Woods 

Deep in the forest of the North there is a large village of jungle people, and among them is one old woman who is held in reverence by all. The stranger who asks why she is honored as a princess is thus answered by her:

Verily, I have much boon, for I am but a child of nature. When I was a young maiden, it fell upon a day that my heart grew hot with anger. For many days the anger grew until it filled my whole heart, also were my eyes so red that I could see but dimly, and no longer could I live in the village or among my own people, for I hated all men and I felt that the beasts of the forest were more to me than my kindred.

Therefore, I fled from the face of man into the jungle where no human foot had ever gone. All day I journeyed, running as though my feet would never weary and feeling no pangs of hunger. When the darkness closed about me, I was not afraid, but lay down under the shelter of a tree and, for a time, slept peacefully, as peacefully as though in my own home.

At length, I was awakened by the breath of an animal and, in the clear light of the moon, I saw a large tiger before me. It smelled of my face, my hands and my feet, then seated itself by my head and watched me through the night, and I lay there unafraid. In the early morning, the tiger departed and I continued my journey. Quieter was my heart. Still, I disliked my own people but had no fear of the beasts or the reptiles of the forest.

During the day I ate of the fruit which grew wild in abundance, and at night I slept ’neath a tree, protected and guarded by fierce, wild beasts which molested not my sleep. For many days I wandered thus, and the nights were secure, for the wild beasts watched over and protected me.

“Thus my heart grew cool in my bosom, and I no longer hated my people and, after one moon had gone, I found myself near a village. The people wondered to see me approach from the jungle, dreaded as being the jungle of the man-eating tiger. When I related my story, the people were filled with wonder and brought rich gifts to me. For a year and a day I abode there, and no more the wild beasts molested their cattle.

But my heart yearned to see the face of my kindred again, so, laden with silver, gold and rich garments and seated in the howdah of an elephant, the people escorted me to my own village, and here have I abode in content these one hundred years.

Thoughts
This story reminded me so much of the Jungle Book, maybe it is! But the Jungle Book is usually set in the jungles of India  while A Child of the Wood is in a Laos jungle. I actually picked this section in the first place because I like how the word Laos rolls off the tongue haha. But now all I can think about is the new Jungle Book coming out in 2016 produced by Disney. This will be a live action in contrast to their animated classic. I will probably love this one more than the original but both are great and I'm sure the new one will be one of my top 5 favorite movies. It's interesting because I am a lion fan through and through and don't even like tigers because people think tigers are the only ones that can take down lies. BS. But out of my top five favorite movies three include tigers ha - from the arena in Gladiator, to Life of Pi, to now Jungle Book (that's how confident I am that I will love it haha).

Another big contrast to A Child of the Wood and  Jungle Book is that Mowgli is a boy and the Laos story is an old woman speaking on her time as a young girl alone in the wonderful jungle protected by tigers and other beasts and in love with nature. While researching more about the Jungle Book I came across a beautiful sentence I thought I should share about these types of stories: that evoke a timeless atmosphere, similar to the beast fables of Aesop or to certain folktales where animals have the power to think and speak. Beautiful.

This kinda makes me want to write about Mowgli as a beast warrior bro. He's basically at the Tarzan of India. Or Tarzan is basically the white Mowgli haha. Wow those stories are super similar as well. Look at all these connections I'm gathering. Maybe Tarzan v Mowgli, uh oh. Or just a super bad ass Mowgli. Or a remix of A Child of the Wood. Now enjoy this dope gif.

Jungle Book 2016

Thoughts About Comments

Pleasant comments are always the best. The ones that prove the person has read your story and it has touched them in some sort of way whether that be by making them laugh or smile, or by really interesting them.

Overly critical comments about grammar or structure are kind of redundant IF the author's story clearly states or intended a story to be different in style or structure. For example, I am an author who enjoys a slightly more dramatic tone so fragmentation and short sentences are my friends. Think of it like Denzel Washington is giving a chilling movie quote or Morgan Freeman is narrating one of my battle stories. Like a halftime football speech. I want to add some drama and moxy!

Further more.. Praise is good, but only for those who deserve it.

Comments Comments Comments.

Swag.

Bye!