Saturday, 29 August 2015

First Chapters

I started writing The Novel, but I don't haven't put the bones together right. They all there, but the first chapter doesn't seem right and I want the first chapter to be right, because I can weak weeks in between that story. But that the first chapters need to dawn you in and hook you.

How stories start are important. Not as important as the endings or the entre worth of the middle. Because whilst the middle can be a bit wonky when you have decided to write a novel on a week to week basis for the internet. My novel will not be perfect. It will not proofread and I am a dyslexic who misses words in her sentences and writes the completely wrong word sometimes. I have literally, not noticed the wrong word for years. It why I always say in my "About"s that I'm dyslexic because I am doomed to make grammar and spelling mistakes more than a non-neurodivergent person (which it a term I like because it has "divergent" in it, but also because my things are numbers and it is still fun to mindboggle people).

The plot will very go off the rails. The characters might secretly build forts and not tell me about them till  over half way in. It will be thing that should be edited because I don't even have plan or proper ending to work to. I have a idea that want expand. We see where it goes. 

I'm starting uni soon and it has stuck up upon me like most things in life that know are on its way. They are only two days left in August. The schools are back. The lease for my accommodation is only a week from starting.

I went to do a test for Autism yesterday. The person asked me how I would feel if I wasn't autistic. I don't think I answer honestly at the moment, because the truth is that be a tiny bit soul crushing after all this time not to own that label anymore, to have find another one to explain myself to the world. It's been almost three years since I finally stumbled on to Selective Mutism and then Autism, with the Aspergers linking so much to me. I would probably cry if a team of expects said I was not. I might cry either way. I like to cry with what ever emotions I'm feeling. Expect happiness, it would be relief I would feel. 

She asked me to explain happiness. The only thing I could think was a lack of physical impact. Stress takes me by my throat and chest. Sadness makes me numb and wanting to cry at lot for no reason. Though, I think it's good to cry sometimes, the stress it relief is brilliant when you've been saving it and something fictional burst it. It easier to cry over things that don't matter to the life you live and can't touch your space, no matter how relatable the characters or the story is, which I love it when Cat Clarke has a new book to stab me with, because I needed the cried over characters that feel real but I know will be fine because fictional characters will always exist in a state of being fine, because you can find the page where they are.

Humans are not books, so our pages get lost, which is why nostalgia is thing even when we know things were actually great as a whole. If humans were books, we would all be massive series. I think my current book is ending and that's terrifying.

I am going to uni. No matter where I am next year, in whatever state with different labels and emotions always bubbling, new things will happen to me. I have paid a deposit, I will pay rent, I will budget for my life  with failures I'm sure. I feel prepared. I know I will do one dumb thing, one thing I'll probably regret and I will have to live with strangers who hopefully will not all be that in a months time. I carry expectations of failures because I am human and I learn to add it as writing material. However, I also carry knowledge that this is a path I chosen for myself. I have stumbled along the path given to me for the majority of my life. I have chosen what I'm going to do, not be limited with what it local or what my parents thought was best.

I am going to study and learn how to make films. I think I might be good. I think that I'm secretly aggrato and confident about my ability to make things. I'm a decent writer, I know I can do it better than other people, on several topics and themes so that something. I accept the basery that I have something of value to add to films. If I do it, that be up to me to keep walking and see what in the woods.

 I'm currently reading a book that ends with a prologue and the characters are off to uni. It made me think about my own thing. I am getting ready and leave, to never come back to this position. That's scary no matter how bad I wanted, no matter how long I've been planning.

I don't write with a plan because most of my plans get thrown out the window, some stick to the glass or the flame in somewhere. This will time it gets stuck. I think I should go before I start spurting about more purple pose about my life and thoughts. I will find out the autistic thing in month time at the soonest, that pretty quick to compared to how long it took me to get here. If it is a no, that will just another long battle. I'm so stick of battles. I think I might have a illness (not life threatening) but at this moment the idea to even attempt to find out, just sounds exhausting after the Autistic wait that's not over yet and who knows if the soldiers will be home for Christmas in that war (I don't know who the soldiers are in this metaphor, I want to the use the reference that says it might not be over so soon (knock wood)). I can only wege so many wars and I preparing for another one.

Though, hopefully I will gain some allies for this one.

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