Fiction: Behind the scenes – “Forgotten”

Read “Forgotten” here.

The inspiration for “Forgotten” came from the photo “Man on plane” by Ross Hughes. While it started out as a fantasy story, it soon turned into a let’s-see-how-much-I-can-creep-myself-out story. So, while it is horror, it is more creepy than anything else.


Unlike most of my longer stories, “Forgotten” was completely pantsed – and this was one reason why I wrote it in parts. As soon as I got a bit stuck I basically called it a day and left the rest for a bit later.

It was only when I came to the end that I decided on writing a second story in the same world – although this one will be an outlined one.

The songs of “Forgotten”

I made use of two songs in “Forgotten”, Frère Jacques and When the Nightingale Sings.

Thanks to one of the Last Week Tonight episodes, Frère Jacques will forever be creepy as can be to me, even though I initially learned in as Vader Jakob when I was small. So, when I needed a “normal” song that could be terribly creepy, I, of course, went for this one:

Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,

Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?

Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!

Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.

When the Nightingale Sings is a Middle English song about the lost beauty and love of an unknown maiden:

When þe nyhtegale singes þe wodes waxen grene.

Lef ant gras ant blosme springes in aueryl y wene,

Ant love is to myn herte gon wiþ one spere so kene

Nyht ant day my blod hit drynkes myn herte deþ me tene.

Ich have loved al þis er þat y may love namore,

Ich have siked moni syk lemmon for þin ore.

Me nis love never þe ner ant þat me reweþ sore.

Suete lemmon þench on me—ich have loved þe ore.

Suete lemmon y preye þe of love one speche,

Whil y lyve in world so wyde oþer nulle y seche.

Wiþ þy love my suete leof mi blis þou mihtes eche,

A suete cos of þy mouþ mihte be my leche.

Suete lemmon y preȝe þe of a love bene

ȝef þou me lovest ase men says lemmon as y wene,

Ant ȝef hit þi wille be þou loke þat hit be sene,

So muchel y þenke upon þe þat al y waxe grene.

Bituene Lyncolne ant Lyndeseye, Norhamptoun ant Lounde,

Ne wot y non so fayr a may as y go fore ybounde.

Suete lemmon ypreȝe þe þou lovie me a stounde!

Y wole mone my song

On wham þat hit ys on ylong.

Why did I use this one? Because it’s pretty and I was pantsing the story! It was also a way to give an archaic feel to the part of the story without being so archaic that nothing about it could be made out.


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