March 13th 2016
I am emotionally spent. I had a plan for today but it didn’t unfold as I had intended and I ended up taking a stroll down memory lane. As I’ve said in previous blog posts I used to be quite the prolific writer (even though it was only fan fiction) and, by a quirk of chance I ended up on my old Fanfiction.net account and, after a few minor difficulties with the password recovery service, eventually got onto my account ‘dashboard’.
When I say that this account is old, what I really mean is that it’s ancient, at least by my standards; to give this some scope the last time I, in fact, altered this account was on the 7th of March 2009- I’ve had this account for over a third of my life! I can’t say that I’ve posted actively on it for that long though, the last time I actually posted anything for the public’s viewing pleasure was in early 2013 and, as much as I am loathe to admit, it leaves me in the unadmirable situation where I can to say “I’ve not written anything for three years”.
After getting onto my account I was greeted by a large myriad of fiction that I had written, some of which I’d penned when I was as young as thirteen years old.
None of them were good.
My collective works read as if they were written by a honry teenager without proper command over the english language, mostly because they were. Hind sight is a wonderful thing and it’s only now I see how, my earrnest attempts at creating quality pieces of fiction, were cut off at the ankles by my novice arrangement of vocabulary, grammar and punctuation. Harsh criticism, but it’s the truth.
Given my aversion for terrible works of fiction my initial reaction was to obliterate any record of these stories ever existing, but when my hand hovered over the delete button I couldn’t bring myself to press it. Call it what you will, sentimentality, sappiness, whatever it was it stopped me from destroying them.
I just couldn’t.
Unable to eradicate them and leave no traceof them ever have existed was out of the question, for some reason after all these years I was still emotionally invested in them; since I needed them gone from my account however, more for my peace of mind than anything else, there was only one option left- archiving.
I spent the majority of last night trawling through tens of pages, reading every single piece of my literary blunders before copying them into my hard drive for, what I can only reason with myself as, sentimentality. I didn’t want other people to read them anymore but I wanted to have them, to remind me of how far I’d come. Sefish, no?
It’s nice to have my old pieces of fiction, I’ve no doubt that I’ll dip into the folder to skim them for a good laugh from time to time, but it’s even nicer to have a clean slate on my account. I did other things today as well, but in all honesty, this is more than likely the most important part of my day, as such I decided that it was only fair to dedicate a post to it. What it does mean though is that.
New name. New skills. New fiction.
Singing off with my new pen name: