A Dragon Made of Madman

So a friend of mine has taken a bunch of my novels (published and unpublished) and trained a neural network on them to see what it would turn out. The results vary from incomprehensible word salad to quite a decent parody of me, to (sometimes) quite lovely leaps of phrase. Here’s some selections.

The soldiers were too frightened, as if the pre-in-spells struck only their inches, though she didn’t want to suppress the trees.

“If I ever belong to a young file,” said Fox. “You care so fantastic about things. My thoughts of glowing in wood. Fexing–and I’m better in this relationship of illusions, no longer often here too far as I may need for it. The pain can depirth you then, and be lost in his father and throw me in on some pieces of my wild, swords of a little haunter, troublesome protection in the now control on, and anyway you could imagine you are quite so that one day something is drinking for food have been going striking than these unconvinced works of goule.”

“Probably,” said Fox. “Certainly. There used to have her the common, and that sounds different. I am being the fox then?” He felt her eyes walk, trassing white stone, but he sat at a shudder. “What do you know?”

She shook her head. “You are.”


“I’ve said they believe something crossy. The Lady Cassandra left something sort of a slip of said poor sizes before bringing if it might cold behind the illusion of a pity.”

“Just one third the law-and-ways and power of it.”

“Don’t we go and change its arm in you.” As he began walking then the sound was heavy and harder and grasping degores on the wood. It was given the good species in a coat of stones, though his tears and pieces of view flowed through a dragon made of madman. Dapplegrim and Dianta passed, curious as well.


Fox followed. The magician fired on the door, but fair and shaked to the background of his brain and rolling on the air. Ella was a night and she could feel a friendly vulpine foot but the words were gone under the girls who were grown dead too. They were ready to think that names filtered. The chambermaid and above was a thin and valoury apple. Was a whole worker of yours upsetting the faint-place, Alex stood across the poors with tongue. It was was disersedled or twineless. It’s being hurried into the thick landscape of walls of folk, slain creatures. He chatted to see them but they were some heavier skill. “No signs,” said Caewen.

Will began to look the creature when a moment she found Dapplegrim, delicately against the white-finger and the knee struck, and the sun was nothing but some more she’s a valuable thing.


“Well, hark the whole world share.”


“That was the man but you could smell this,” said Dapplegrim, so that she was gathering mid-runed and skulls and shadows. He clothed in his back as he struggled to breath, and she threw her to the ground and flapping a look at her. “If you are barely walking around my favourite, or creepy.”


Fear did the same. Another or the ways are being crutched. He takes a story northing rat-dobbed and green hair but no rest sound around the swarm of blood.


“Thank you,” said Death. “Give me from here. By if they are red-cottages, girity skulls and for instances. I’m afraid it becomes a good inside the last person of Dianta when it is an age for a hurt. You need not to meet earlier to dusk my own cut of form and fear. Where is your work?”

“Well, I hope. What do you want?”

“No. I have learned.” She was still feeling more scraping across the hilt.

“I think he had not made a way to anyone else and what?”

“That was one.”


They started to try and haphath. It was in the end of the place that climbed up, he was caught in a flint demony. Peering into the doorway was a pale, lald old shadow in the air, in drufting of answers and the vampire leathers around her way. She gave a slow touch of servants. It started her tail. The steel danced back. Caewen wondered. But as she walked this way he had come quickly in clasping into his brow. He could see Mancarrow bowing and quite bother some device of gisting literary-blastes. Caewen holding his head up with holds of hair and tightly twinkled heavily-fire blue light. “I might raise him on the whom, and if she’s lost that we could naenter the big earth or twice to draw another. And probably broken rivers of swords, and they’re better days on magic and though how is people, and then if you remember all the serfs.”

Now then they looked at her after both and a moment ago, not much like he needed to fix. With a grin. She let the fire cook a movement back and rowled out of the clouds. “I felt for a minute?”

“Though a home of the Hill of the Night and the only thing and she has now carrying for my thoughts. There are eldritch voices in a black man to make stories in mortals in the mountains.”

“Yes. Never ever won’t be worth his attention. There should be someone or no other magic in this day. They would go around to in what might be better to exact speeds that me.” They narrowed it on her part and flew out of his hand. “Deciding about the men’s purses are not our artists. We must put a word of light.”

Hm. Some of that strikes a little too close to home. I could have written a lot of those sentences, though I’d hope my actual words would be a touch more coherent.