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Hi. It's been a while, hmm? Oh well, I'm back and I need some help.
Firstly, I have this idea. I think it's pretty good, but I want some opinions. Because for all I know, it could be really cheesy. So, this is an extract. I'm currently naming this 'The Emerald Sphere', but that will change. I'm pretty certain it will change. Because it sounds like a Narnia title, and I've never been a fan of the Narnia books. The characters are like cardboard. At least they are in the first book; I haven't actually, um, read the rest sweatdrop . Anyway, this will not turn into a Narnia discussion - here is an extract from chapter 1:

' Soon the small clearing where the giant, hollow tree stood came into view. The boy threw himself towards it, groping inside the fuzzy blackness of the hollow trunk. In his panic, he could hear millions of snapping twigs; his pursuers were coming closer. His fingers searched desperately inside the darkness; until their tips slipped across something smooth. The boy gasped in surprise, and clenched his fingers in a tight fist around the smooth, round ball.
He pulled his arm out of the hollow, and unclenched his fist. His fingers parted to reveal an emerald sphere. Its smooth surface was carved with glowing, olive runes; intricate, interlocking patterns swirling over the surface. Inside the sphere, what looked like elegant, dancing leaves and petals swirled around a gnarled, twisted tree. The detail was astounding, the more you looked within its depths, the more you could see. Soon graceful birds and butterflies were swimming in the globe, and then jewelled flowers fluttered from the trees boughs.
The boy marvelled at the intricate details inside of the orb. It seemed to be alive. The boy held the emerald orb up to the light, so as to examine it better, when it burst into emerald green flames. The boy gasped in surprise, and almost dropped the sphere, but it did not burn his hand; it felt cool and breezy. He brought it out of the direct sunlight, clasping it with both of his hands, and held it up to his eyes, when a twig snapped particularly loud. The boy jumped, and clutching the sphere ever tighter, he began to back away, but he found himself drew up against the rough bark of the hollow tree.

“NOW!”
Dark, cloaked figures emerged from the darkness. They were all abnormally tall, towering of the boy’s face, casting unbroken shadows over him. Their faces were concealed with hoods as dark as dusk, their faces nothing but fuzzy shadows. The boy seemed to shrink in their presence. As fear swallowed him, they stepped forward to make their move, and one of them spoke.
“Give us the orb, little boy,” a slick, slithering voice inched threateningly towards him in the darkness.
The boy responded by clutching the orb even tighter.
“Don’t be scared. Hand it over and we won’t have to hurt you,” a rough voice scraped against the boy’s ears, but the boy did not respond.
“You can’t handle it. You don’t understand what it is,” a low voice hacked through the boy’s defences; he began to slide down the bark nervously.
“Give us the orb, child. You don’t know what it can do,” hissed the first voice. The boy was now slumped on the floor, but he felt a renewed strength burning inside him.

He rose, shaking slightly, and said, “No.”
A figure revealed a long, gleaming sword from beneath their cloak, and said, “Excuse me?”
“No,” the boy repeated, shaking worse by the second. “I won’t give it to you.”
“As you wish,” they said calmly and the boy suddenly found himself surrounded by silver blades, each tip pointing at his heart. “You may want to rethink that.”
The boy was shaking uncontrollably now, but he did not move from where he was standing. He stood his ground, the orb burning brightly in his hands, and searched for an escape route. He could see none, and his hopes sank. He was surrounded and, by the looks of things, knocking at Death’s door.
“As you wish,” said the smooth voice, and he raised his free hand in signal.

And so the figures charged. The boy screamed, and threw himself to the ground in desperation, orb in one arm, the other over his head. He felt himself being grabbed by the ruff on the neck, and was unceremoniously thrust off the ground and he found himself dangling helplessly in the air, his amber eyes level with where he thought the hooded figures eyes ought to have been. He was surprised that he had managed to keep the orb clutched in his hand.
“This is your last chance. Give me the orb.”
“No!” the boy said, wriggling desperately to free himself.
The figure moved his bony hand, and twisted it around the boy’s neck.
“Give me the orb.”
“N- No!” he choked, as his limbs grew limp and lifeless.
“Fine; die then.”
And the boy was released panting to the ground. The hooded figure chanted some words in an unfathomable language, and the boy suddenly found he was frozen to the spot, and couldn’t move an inch. From then on his memories were jumbled and confused, the hooded figures closed in, a blinding emerald light, like burning green fire, swirled around him and a voice called out of the shaded darkness towards him.

Suddenly, the hooded figures had backed away and the voice was calling out to him even louder and more desperate. The boy’s thoughts were a shaky mass of relief. They’re gone. I’m fine, I’m not injured... and then it dawned on him. But I cannot move! I’ll dehydrate, and if I do not, then I will starve to death for sure. The boy was swallowed by terror again, sure that he would die. He fought to break free of his invisible bindings, but it was no use. His eyes watered fiercely, as hopelessness overwhelmed him, but his tears were frozen, unable to slide down his cheeks. And then the voice called out to him.
“Jaden!” the voice cried, and then the boy’s view dimmed, and he could see, nor hear, no more.'

And this is a little extract from chapter 2:

' Jaden felt odd, it was as if an unexplainable innocence had swept over him. He wasn’t sure why, but he could think clearer than he used to; his memories weren’t jumbled into confused piles anymore; they were less complicated, more simple; they were now arranged into clear areas and sections, neat and easy to ponder over. He continued lying down, staring up at the ‘ceiling’ contentedly, pondering over trivial things happily. For the first time in his life, he was asking questions like, ‘why is the sky blue?’, or, ‘where did trees come from?’. He lay there for a few minutes before he realised he was naked.
Jaden was surprised, but a part of him didn’t feel awkward, which scared him in a way. He was exposed, all of the animals on the plains below, all of the birds flittering above, could see him, but he didn’t mind. Jaden was scared. This new innocence was beginning to terrify the part of him that hadn’t changed. He feared he was going insane.

Jaden wished he could move. He glanced down at the field below and tried desperately to distract himself. Suddenly, as if his little floating ‘room’ wanted to prove a point, walls suddenly appeared out of thin air. Jaden realised the room must have been round, for the walls was perfectly circular. Jaden pushed himself up on the wall behind him. He leaned heavily on the wall, when he noticed that the wall wasn’t a wall at all.
It was a neat circle of mirrors.

Jaden winced and looked around, but he was surrounded by the uninterrupted ring of gleaming mirrors. It was as if the ‘room’ wanted to prove that he couldn’t hide himself. Jaden removed his hand from the mirror, but he swayed dangerously and collapsed on the invisible floor. Jaden was terrified. He had thought he would fall through to the ground. Pushing back, he leaned against one rounded mirror and stared stubbornly at his reflection.
He was surprised at what stared back.
For where his smooth, amber opals ought to been, sharp, emerald gems twinkled back at him.
Jaden forgot his nakedness, and stared at his gleaming pupils. He looked behind him, as if expecting to see someone else sitting there, but his alarmed reflection continued to stare back at him. Jaden was scared. Eyes don’t just change colour, he panicked, desperately searching for a reason that his eyes could have changed colour so suddenly. He was scared. But the other half of him felt calm. Jaden didn’t like it.
He didn’t like any of it; he didn’t like how he seemed to have been split in half, he didn’t like how his memory seemed to have been rearranged without his permission, he didn’t like how he felt horribly innocent, he didn’t like how his body had suddenly changed. He was confused, he was changing and he didn’t like it.

And then a voice spoke.
That’s perfectly normal. There isn’t anything remotely odd about it.
“Who said that?!” Jaden shouted, staring as his reflections mouthed his words.
I did, of course. Who else?
“Who are you?! Where are you?!” he cried at the mirrors, feeling uneasy.
I? I have no name. As for where I lie, I am at the heart.
“What?”
A sigh resounded through Jaden’s head. I would not expect you to understand the ways of my species. I have been foolish in contacting you.
“Wait! What are you?! Why- how are you talking to me?! What do you mean?!”
You will not believe what I am until you see me for yourself. As for talking to you, you are mine.
“I don’t understand!”
Logic comes only from experience. I have said too much. We will meet again.
“But we haven’t met!”
But I have. And next time we meet, speak with your mind. Speaking aloud is much too noisy for my liking.
“Wait! What’s perfectly normal?”
Your eyes; they are but a mere part of myself. You are mine; I am yours. You have my eyes. I now have yours.
“You have my eyes?”
Your species are awful listeners. I’d love to get to know you, but I must leave. I’m glad that we could have met. Farewell, Jaden.
“Don't go! How do you know my name?!“
But it had gone.

Jaden felt dazed. He wondered who, or what, that had been. And while he was pondering all the days happenings, he didn’t notice that ghostly, feathered wings rested on his reflection’s backs, nor that a small, silvery creature with smooth amber eyes was fluttering out of the mirrors view.'

That last extract was a sort of dream/vision type thing. I've been rereading Eragon, and I've, um, got inspired. But I'm pretty sure this is quite different, so I'm going ahead. Please give your opinions. And the creatures voice is in italics in the original thing, but I used bold on here, for obvious reasons.

And, help... I'm already working on a novel right now, and I don't know if I should be writing two at a time. What do you think? Is it ok to work on two projects at once? I just don't want this one to interfere with writing 'One Star'; I really think that ones good, and I've been working on it for a year. And I've only just started writing this new one three days ago. So, if anyone can help me answer that question, I would be very happy 3nodding

Thanks!

I'll try that. I don't want to stop writing 'One Star', because it's awesome and I'm rewriting it (even though I never finished it in the first place), and this just suddenly popped up and I wanted to write it. It's a problem of mine... random ideas love to pop up out of nowhere. Honestly, I was thinking about a forest, and then I was suddenly thinking about green orbs sweatdrop

I have the same problem...maybe I should post a similar thread! Mine tend to come from really crazy dreams that I have.

One thing I never have been good at is dividing my attention when it comes to large projects. I find that the less I try to think about too many things at once, the more quality literature I tend to write with little to go back and edit. In the end, though, it's completely up to you; I know how tempting it is to want to write that shiny new idea! When that happens to me, I'll write what I thought (or dreamed) down, then talk to someone about it. If the idea wins, then I will put it aside until my current project is finished.