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 Tweeks & Stories

12/26/2012

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It is that sacred and joyous of times, Boxing Day, and as such I am home alone with a pile of unwashed Christmas dinner dishes with no real motivation to do anything about it. Christmas was wonderful even if it was a quiet day with just the two of us. Now the boy is back at work, dealing with the madhouse that is Boxing Day sales, and I am on the sofa adding a few more things to this website. Specifically I just added a list of every major project I have ever written - the ones I can remember at least. I have to admit that I was surprised to see the list actually take shape the way that it did. I have this idea that I have only recently really become a writer of any sort, yet I can see just from writing out dates of works that I used to write far more when I was younger. I suppose the difference now is a question of quality. It pains me to even think about some of those earily pieces let alone read them. As simplistic as I may accuse Galen of being, it is no where near the horrible cliche writing of 13 year old me. That being said, I was pretty darn ambitious in writing at a very young age. Not many people know this but I struggled with reading and writing English for a great deal longer than most people my age, even the ones who did the same French program with me. Yet once I figured out the basics I was determined to write just about anything. I remember the first big work that I was determined to write. It was called Joanna and it was supposed to be a huge drama, mystery/courtroom sort of genre, and I had it all planned out. Then I reached the actual courtroom stuff, realized that I didn't know anything about law and didn't think a 12 year old (or however old I was at the time) had any business even trying to figure it all out. So I not only stopped writing but I completely trashed the 100+ pages of Word document.

Pre-teen me was not a great long-term thinker. And somehow I went from an actually pretty interesting and complex adult drama novel to a whimsical and cliche fantasy that was Legendary. Oh, I was so proud of that one. I made everyone read it. And I suppose for 13 it was a pretty good try at noveling, but the memory I have of its underdevelopment is haunting. That being said, I also haven't read it in a long long time. I still have it, somewhere it is all saved digitally and I have a full print-out of it on my bookshelf right now. I am my own worst reviewer, and I often latch onto the worst features of any of my works. I did the same thing with Galen when it was only half written. I thought that it would have to be completely redone and I was ready to do that, until I began actually reading it again and I surprised myself. It's been a year since I've read Galen and my attitude towards it is rather lukewarm now. I can only imagine what I will think of Freakhouse a year after it becomes published. At the moment I think that it is the greatest thing I've ever written, but I'm sure some part of me will turn to the darker side of things and remember only flaws.
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There is some value in that, though. I would rather always be looking for new ways to grow than to have myself believe that I've mastered my art. I think that the mastery comes in the changing. I've mentioned it before, how I felt myself grow with my works, and since I do believe that my works choose me rather than me them, I suppose that seeing past works as below par from where I am now is a sign of my growth. Those works represent a time and a place that I was in during the writing of them, but even a day later I can be a completely new place, heading in a completely new direction. If I made every idea that popped into my head each day into a finished product, you can bet that I would have a much larger list of stories-that-shall-not-be-named.
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