I have been instilled with a love of books since childhood. At the age of 7, I was already familiar with Gogol, Pushkin, Yesenin, and Kir Bulychev. At 8, I accidentally met Remarque and relatively consciously with Strugatsky and Lem. At 9, I was given the Lord of the Rings and it turned my world upside down. I began to read excitedly everything that came to hand. More precisely, everything that was in my aunt's huge closets. And there were classics of world and Russian literature, world fantasy, detective stories. Dragons, heroes, magic, space, time travel were much more interesting than the outside world. I wanted to be a writer. And from 15 to 17 I wrote a “big novel” about vampires in checkered notebooks. Then adult life began to spin and I decided that this was just a stupid childhood dream, but..
I admire writers. They are my idols. To weave the plot of a book so that everyone finds something of their own in it, understands the idea - is already an art. Only a few people are able to write in such a way as to make you think about what is important when reading, draw conclusions and change your life for the better.
The printed word, in my opinion, is the only art that is 50% dependent on the reader. From his imagination, knowledge and ideas of the world. The writer creates a plot and characters, throws scenery. The details, images, smells and facial expressions of the characters are invented by the reader.
No other art will do that. They are limited by the frame, timing, budget, existing colors and shapes. Music, cinema, painting, architecture look and sound as the author laid down. They leave a chance for fantasy, but a word..
The same word can mean completely different things. Key, lock, stove. But at the same time, even a word with the only possible interpretation means different things to different people. “Childhood" for me is the smell of mown grass, a stove, cornfields and a bicycle with small wheels at the back. Something completely carefree and up to 5 years old. And for you?
The writer creates worlds.
The writer is limited only by his mind.
A good writer manages thoughts.
A very good writer can interest, lure and put his thoughts into the heads of millions. And only here it depends on him what they will be.
A brilliant writer can change the world. This is a great power, it is stronger than the ring of omnipotence.
I started a personal blog to learn how to write. A worker to learn how to convey thoughts, ideas and show results. I hope that over time it will bear fruit and I will have ideas, worlds, plots, heroes and I will start writing books. I do not know if I have talent and if I will ever be able to touch greatness even a little. But if I don't start, I'll never know.
I do not plan the results of this section and do not count on anything from my creativity. But if I manage to do something good for a couple of people with my stories, I will already be happy and it will not be in vain.
Frodo bowed his head.
– And what do you want yourself? "What is it?" he asked after a pause.
"Let it be what it should be," she answered easily. – The love of the elves for their land and for what is made by their hands is deeper than the abysses of the Sea. They will forever mourn the loss, and their grief will never fully heal. But they would rather give up everything they have than surrender to Sauron, for now they know him. You are not responsible for the fate of Latlorian. You should only think about what you have been assigned. But if there were any benefit from my desire, I would wish only one thing: that the One was never created or that it disappeared from Middle–earth forever.
–You are wise, fearless, and just, Lady Galadriel," Frodo said timidly. "I'll give you the One Ring if you ask." I have too much honor in such a burden!
Galadriel laughed, a sudden, ringing laugh.
"The Lady Galadriel may be wiser than many," she said, laughing, "but she has met her equal in courtesy. So you took revenge on me for putting you to the test the first time we met! You're getting sharp-sighted. I do not deny that my heart ardently desires what you offer me. How many long years have I been thinking about what I would do if the Great Ring came to me–and here it is! One has only to stretch out one's hand – and it's mine! The ancient created evil goes in many ways and acts regardless of whether Sauron is in power or not. Wouldn't it be possible to put my act on the account of the Ring, if I took the Ring from the guest with the help of force or fear? And now it's coming into my hands by itself. You're giving the Ring away of your own free will! Instead of the Black Lord, you put the Ruler on the throne. But I won't be Black–oh no! I will be wonderful and formidable, like Morning and Night! Beautiful as the Sea and the Sun, and the snow on the peaks! Scary as a storm and lightning! I will become stronger than the foundations of the earth. Everyone will love me and everyone will fall to dust at my feet!
She raised her hand–and suddenly a beam of the brightest light burst out of her Ring, illuminating her alone and leaving everything else in darkness. She stood before Frodo – immeasurably tall, unattainably beautiful, inexplicably formidable and majestic. However... her hand suddenly fell, the light dimmed, and the Lady laughed again. What's it? She seemed to have become smaller in stature. In front of Frodo stood a simple, fragile elf girl in an ordinary white dress, and her voice was quiet and gentle again.
"I passed the test," she said. "I will resign myself, go to the West and remain Galadriel.
They stood in silence for a long time."
“The Lord of the Rings. The Brotherhood of the Ring.” John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
– And what do you want yourself? "What is it?" he asked after a pause.
"Let it be what it should be," she answered easily. – The love of the elves for their land and for what is made by their hands is deeper than the abysses of the Sea. They will forever mourn the loss, and their grief will never fully heal. But they would rather give up everything they have than surrender to Sauron, for now they know him. You are not responsible for the fate of Latlorian. You should only think about what you have been assigned. But if there were any benefit from my desire, I would wish only one thing: that the One was never created or that it disappeared from Middle–earth forever.
–You are wise, fearless, and just, Lady Galadriel," Frodo said timidly. "I'll give you the One Ring if you ask." I have too much honor in such a burden!
Galadriel laughed, a sudden, ringing laugh.
"The Lady Galadriel may be wiser than many," she said, laughing, "but she has met her equal in courtesy. So you took revenge on me for putting you to the test the first time we met! You're getting sharp-sighted. I do not deny that my heart ardently desires what you offer me. How many long years have I been thinking about what I would do if the Great Ring came to me–and here it is! One has only to stretch out one's hand – and it's mine! The ancient created evil goes in many ways and acts regardless of whether Sauron is in power or not. Wouldn't it be possible to put my act on the account of the Ring, if I took the Ring from the guest with the help of force or fear? And now it's coming into my hands by itself. You're giving the Ring away of your own free will! Instead of the Black Lord, you put the Ruler on the throne. But I won't be Black–oh no! I will be wonderful and formidable, like Morning and Night! Beautiful as the Sea and the Sun, and the snow on the peaks! Scary as a storm and lightning! I will become stronger than the foundations of the earth. Everyone will love me and everyone will fall to dust at my feet!
She raised her hand–and suddenly a beam of the brightest light burst out of her Ring, illuminating her alone and leaving everything else in darkness. She stood before Frodo – immeasurably tall, unattainably beautiful, inexplicably formidable and majestic. However... her hand suddenly fell, the light dimmed, and the Lady laughed again. What's it? She seemed to have become smaller in stature. In front of Frodo stood a simple, fragile elf girl in an ordinary white dress, and her voice was quiet and gentle again.
"I passed the test," she said. "I will resign myself, go to the West and remain Galadriel.
They stood in silence for a long time."
“The Lord of the Rings. The Brotherhood of the Ring.” John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
- The professor, after whose books I could no longer stop reading.
- A professor who showed me peace, friendship, love, loyalty, duty, honor, goodness, wisdom, evil, hypocrisy, greed, cowardice, hypocrisy and much more.
- The professor who said you can choose. That you don't have to be someone big to have the strength to save the world.
- A professor whose work I have read more than 10 times and discovered something new each time.
- A man who changed not only my life, but also the lives of many people.
- A man to whom I am eternally grateful for the way I grew up.
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