The story of my writing...
I wrote my first story when I was ten. My therapist challenged me to do it. It was five pages of really bad sci-fi, and I still have it. :) Crappy as it was, I loved the writing process itself, and I kept writing... ranging from really bad sci-fi to really bad fantasy and horror to really bad V.C. Andrews pastiches throughout middle school. Yes, I will admit to that. :)
During middle school, the first characters and settings of Shayara started to surface. I'd been dreaming of some of the settings, and a little bit about the characters, but not too much. Then, when I was 14, I tried to kill myself.
Yes, the suicide attempt is relevant. Because I ended up in the ICU, and in the ICU, they didn't have TV, they wouldn't give me books because my parents were mad at me... the only thing I could persuade them to give me was a pen and a yellow legal pad.
During my three days in the ICU, I wrote the first 50 pages of what was then titled "Edge of Darkfall", which involved five characters that now exist only in flashback - but what are distant relatives of the characters that you're all getting to know now in Shayara.
I continued their story while I was in the adolescent psych ward, and it just kept *growing*. And I really never stopped telling it. All through high school, I wrote more and more, snippets of generations of Dasaroi - not in a really linear fashion, as I don't *think* in a linear fashion. And side-stories, things that will eventually come out as original trade paperbacks. The world grew in my mind, the characters evolved and lived. And I had full plans to put it all together and try to get it published as a series of novels and short story collections.
And then, in 1994, I was raped.
I've posted before something that Nancy Venable Raine said: that when a woman is raped, the woman that she was before the rape dies. That woman is gone. Mourn and move on. And some of you agreed with that, and some disagreed. But I feel that it is true, and I've spent years figuring out who I am now.
The rape had impact on my life in many ways, but most significantly for the purposes of this post: I stopped writing. Utterly. I wrote two poems in the week after the rape - spasms of fear and pain. And then I fell silent. For years.
Seven years of silence.
Last year, I began to feel the characters again. To see more of their story. And I wanted to write, but I was having trouble stepping out of my fear. And I didn't know if I even *could* write anymore, if that was one of the parts of me that died. So I stayed silent, for the most part.
And then I met
mousegrrl at DragonCon last year and saw her art and how amazingly gifted she is. And she made an offhand remark: "I'd like to do comics, but I can't write."
And I was silent for one last moment, and then replied: "I want to do a comic - I can't draw, but I write."
And I have not been silent since that day. :) I've spent this past year reviewing all I've written on Shayara, all of my ideas of all of my characters. Doing timelines, outlines, figuring out what stays and what goes, trying to find a way into the story for the reader, making it linear. And in January of this year, I sat down and I wrote the ashcan, the preview issue (links in
shayara). I just sat down, and I did it, after 7 1/2 years of silence. And I finished it and hit save, and ask
yendi - all I did that day was just whisper, stunned, "I did it. I *did* it."
I have my voice back.
I have tears in my eyes right now because I have my voice back, because that part of me did not die.
So. This is my thank you to
mousegrrl, who planted that seed, and to
yendi, who's provided endless support... and to all of you for your support, for your interest, for making me feel like maybe I don't suck at this, that maybe my story is coming out of me just exactly the way it was supposed to all along.
Thank you.
I wrote my first story when I was ten. My therapist challenged me to do it. It was five pages of really bad sci-fi, and I still have it. :) Crappy as it was, I loved the writing process itself, and I kept writing... ranging from really bad sci-fi to really bad fantasy and horror to really bad V.C. Andrews pastiches throughout middle school. Yes, I will admit to that. :)
During middle school, the first characters and settings of Shayara started to surface. I'd been dreaming of some of the settings, and a little bit about the characters, but not too much. Then, when I was 14, I tried to kill myself.
Yes, the suicide attempt is relevant. Because I ended up in the ICU, and in the ICU, they didn't have TV, they wouldn't give me books because my parents were mad at me... the only thing I could persuade them to give me was a pen and a yellow legal pad.
During my three days in the ICU, I wrote the first 50 pages of what was then titled "Edge of Darkfall", which involved five characters that now exist only in flashback - but what are distant relatives of the characters that you're all getting to know now in Shayara.
I continued their story while I was in the adolescent psych ward, and it just kept *growing*. And I really never stopped telling it. All through high school, I wrote more and more, snippets of generations of Dasaroi - not in a really linear fashion, as I don't *think* in a linear fashion. And side-stories, things that will eventually come out as original trade paperbacks. The world grew in my mind, the characters evolved and lived. And I had full plans to put it all together and try to get it published as a series of novels and short story collections.
And then, in 1994, I was raped.
I've posted before something that Nancy Venable Raine said: that when a woman is raped, the woman that she was before the rape dies. That woman is gone. Mourn and move on. And some of you agreed with that, and some disagreed. But I feel that it is true, and I've spent years figuring out who I am now.
The rape had impact on my life in many ways, but most significantly for the purposes of this post: I stopped writing. Utterly. I wrote two poems in the week after the rape - spasms of fear and pain. And then I fell silent. For years.
Seven years of silence.
Last year, I began to feel the characters again. To see more of their story. And I wanted to write, but I was having trouble stepping out of my fear. And I didn't know if I even *could* write anymore, if that was one of the parts of me that died. So I stayed silent, for the most part.
And then I met
And I was silent for one last moment, and then replied: "I want to do a comic - I can't draw, but I write."
And I have not been silent since that day. :) I've spent this past year reviewing all I've written on Shayara, all of my ideas of all of my characters. Doing timelines, outlines, figuring out what stays and what goes, trying to find a way into the story for the reader, making it linear. And in January of this year, I sat down and I wrote the ashcan, the preview issue (links in
I have my voice back.
I have tears in my eyes right now because I have my voice back, because that part of me did not die.
So. This is my thank you to
Thank you.
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congrats to you two finding each other in the night like that.
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Oh, PS:
Re: Oh, PS:
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This is so true. I stoped writing poetry after the first rape; it's only been in the last few months, 14 years later, that I've started writing poetry again. It's still not any good, but at least I'm writing it.
{HUGS} Congratulations on finding your voice, and that part of your self.
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Rock.
It is a constant evolution.
We should ALWAYS strive to find who we are.
I applaud you for not stopping.
For continuing on.
For keeping your head up knowing there is always another day.
In a small way, you are a blessing of sorts as most of us are.
Keep on doing what you're doing.
I'm happy to have made your acquaintance.
I look forward to more stories in the future. =)
Re: Rock.
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I love you.
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**sound of connections being made**
I don't know whether to laugh at my inability to see the obvious, or scream.
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So, you too, huh? *hugs*
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*happy glow!*
*claps and cheers!*
power...
Here's to hoping that some day this won't need to be an example to anyone...
Re: power...