Really though, I'm just a drifter, wandering from forum to forum looking to improve my writing ability. This here will be the second writing forum I've joined. Normally I stay on role playing forums, choosing to flex my creative muscles by writing with and against other writers. Lately though, that just isn't enough for me. I need good writers, experienced writers, to help me become better. I want to improve, I want to be more eloquent, have prose that is a little more verbose or 'flowery', etc. My favorite writer is probably Joe Abercrombie. I suppose, that perhaps, you'll want a sample of my writing ability? Well, here we go: "Jacques, do we really have to go home now?" The frail little girl spoke, looking up from her wheelchair to the large man towering over the back of it. Her blue eyes begged for another five minutes in the park. The sun shone down on her blond, nearly platinum hair. It shimmered in the sunlight, occasionally being lifted by the breeze to billow about her shoulders. It simply couldn't be justified. How could someone see it fit to remove such a sweet, beautiful little girl from a place so perfect? "Miss Stark, your mother will worry if we tarry any longer." The large, bald man spoke. His voice was surprisingly soft for such a gruff looking man, yet there was a firmness behind it that made it well known that they did indeed, have to leave now. He did not look like a friendly man. A black suit that made him seem as if he worked for some government agency, only added to his intimidating appearance. In all reality, he wasn't supposed to look like a nice, friendly person. He was the child's keeper. He was to watch over her and assure that no harm ever came to her. His hands wrapped around the handles on either side of the girl's shoulders, and at a steady pace, he pushed the wheelchair towards the black limo parked some twenty yards away. Alexis Stark, folded her arms in her lap, and watched the beauty of the park slip away as she was whisked to the limo. It was times like this, that she wished she wasn't born a cripple. "Disabled!" Her mother would harp at her. It didn't matter what you called it. It made no difference to a thirteen year old girl, what word you used to describe the inability to use her legs. Soon enough, the blacked out by the tinted windows of the limo. Her wheelchair stowed away somewhere in the rear of the car. She now sat in a plush seat, mini-refrigerators, T.V. screens, speakers, etc, surrounded her now. None of those things mattered though, because she was much happier reading the book she now held in her hands. Eager eyes scanned the pages quickly. It was at least the seventh time she'd read this particular book. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Her favorite book by far. Pages turned quickly, much quicker than many children her age. She'd unintentionally taught herself to speed read. She'd often times finish multiple novels in a single day. However many books she read though, she always found herself coming back to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. She often thought like Alice did. Always wishing she could slip away to some fantasy dream land, have the use of her legs, and meet people and things that didn't look down on her like a thing to be pitied. If she made it to Wonderland, she wouldn't want to come home though. ~~~~~~~~~ Just some random stuff that popped into my mind. The child is a character that I'll be playing in a role play on another site. I guess, this would be considered a first draft, as I haven't gone over it to check for flaws or anything, but yeah, I guess that'll work for a sample of my writing.