Horror of horrors, I just came across the original version of my fantasy novel, penned when I was around fifteen. Sadly, my fifteen-year-old self thought that good writing meant cramming as many adjectives as possible into a single sentence, and likewise thought it was a brilliant idea to name a character “Tath Matherhorse.”
Actual lines from the story:
A soothing darkness had fallen over the camp, and Nicholas lay on his back in the grass, staring up into the thickening night sky through the breaks in the trees. The gentle kiss of the night wind brushed against his face, tickling the new growth of facial hair that was sprouting on his chin even as it brushed the hair back from his forehead.
What’s more, Nicholas and Kaine are hilariously heterosexual in this version, and (SPOILER) Kaine dies at the end – but not before randomly siring a child so his legacy may live on! (Seriously, he shows up at some woman’s door, says the gods sent him, and they immediately proceed to make a baby. That’s how it works, right?)
I do have to give my younger self credit for actually sticking with the story long enough to finish it, and for including some not entirely awful plot points and action scenes.
But yes, advice to young writers: The wind should not be gently kissing anyone’s stubble. Just something to keep in mind. It’s this kind of thing that invariably leads us to sparkling vampires.