Friday, 5 April 2013

Reflections and a Release on the 13th!


You had better mark your calendars, people, because on that day, Beside The Cinders will be officially open to the public!! Yay! It's going to be awesome. Now you too can get a copy of my novel!!

I kinda sound like a commercial guy. Sorry...I'm just so excited.

The whole time when I was young, I had dreamed of becoming someone who knows 100% of what they're doing. But really, no one does, and that used to make me so frustrated, because I felt that many people around me kew exactly what they were doing. I knew a little of everything, and that doesn't really warrant a medal.

So I usually spent more time alone. When I was five, I was speaking proper English with my imaginary friends, who I made up with my hands. My left hand was a spunky girl called Cactus, and my right hand was a sophisticated guy called Jonathan. I suppose I was channeling both my sides, but even then I wasn't the risk-taker. I hated being a daredevil, but I've always wanted to secretly. So I would spend so much time talking by myself in a makeshift tent in my room, dreaming up a new adventure for the day.

I learned to write, and I spent more time doing that. But I always made time for my two friends, who I felt understood me more than the real ones at school. For one thing, I toned down my proper English and substituted certain words for slang in school, which was something I didn't do at home. No one knew my weird penchant for acting things out before writing stories. I usually kept most of that secret. That was why I spent lots of time in the bathroom, talking to myself in hushed voices. It may seem a tad yucky and all, but I suppose that since the toilet was a private place, that was the only place I could get transported to my imagination, in the blink of an eye.

You know what they say...The rest is history. I began writing passages aside form my homework, which I felt was different from my over-the-top stories and comics. I drew stick figures based from my classmates and gave them names. When I was eleven, I created a secret group of me and two other girls and we communicated using a made up code. We sent little messages to each other, and they were amazing secret keepers. I showed them the magazines I created from drawing paper, and they always contributed to better comic plots.

Now I've just turned eighteen, and I've written a novel. A a whole, thirty-eight chapter novel. It feels so happy and gratifying and I can never be more proud. It's been a year, I think, or slightly less, since i joined Figment. I've met so many good writers, and I hope that whatever happens, we'll keep on writing till the end.

For sure, there's someone out there who's just waiting to read a story like no other.


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