Friday, January 22, 2010

my origin story

goals for 2010 and beyond...

At school I had a running policy, which precluded any excess expenditure of energy on my part.
Emo's weren't even invented (more correctly popularized) until a decade later. I'm not crazy, I'm just ahead of the curve. Oh to be 10 years younger and bask in the demure light of my fellow melancholies.

It was 6th form English and we had been given a rather pedestrian short story writing assignment. This could mean only one thing: Plagiarism. I hadn't yet been introduced to the concept, but I took to the practice quite naturally. After University I now realize that this was akin to academic murder, but I was young and what's the antonym for precocious? Oh that's right, stupid, so I borrowed heavily from the plot of an EC comic that I had recently read about.

Once completed I determined that this was doubtless the single greatest piece of literature composed by a high school student. Ever. My expectations were off the charts, I could see the teacher, whose name presently escapes me, reading my story to the class as an exemplary beacon of 6th form English excellence. This was a rare occurrence at that period of my young life, I had done something. And enjoyed it.

A few days later I'd given myself the day off school. The conservation of energy card had been played yet again. Didn't want to strain myself. Upon my return, what was my surprise but to have reports that my story had indeed been read out in honor of my literary genius, the previous day (during my absence), make their way to my ears, fulfilling my recent prophecy, and confirming that scientific fact to which this sentence bears achingly immutable testament.

It was official, at least in the eyes of the teacher and perhaps even some of the students. I was good at writing or at least had the potential to be. Things have gone down hill considerably since then (I suck), but hope is a gift from the gods to the irrational, and I still wait with extended arms and empty hands for the reception of good graces from my imaginary sky riding colleagues. However, I was a write off (ha), all hope for me then and there was lost forever upon recognition of my *ahem* burgeoning mercurial talent. That's when I was kidnapped by my muse, Alfredo the syphilitic scimitar wielding elf of faery land, and no ransom amount would ever satisfy the terms of my release.

There have been several clumsy attempts since that time to write more stories (mainly in text form). I've yet to complete a novel, probably because I find them long and hard just to read, writing one would require a level of perseverance that I am currently unequipped for. I came to the novel late anyway, there's not a burning passion there. My first love, my true love is comics. I thought writing novels would be more respectable, but you've got to go with your heart. All signs are that comics will die one day - their popularity is fading - but so will I. You don't just give up on something because it's impermanent. This year the goal nearest and dearest to my heart is finishing some comic scripts and getting them published.

Looks like my energy policy needs an amendment.

related posts: introduction

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