Why Did I Become A Writer?
I don't think I ever talked about this on here, but its a question that I sometimes get. 'Why did you become a writer?' I've loved books from an early age. I love the way they made me feel, the escape they offered me and how they expanded my experiences. I loved how I could spend hours lost inside worlds only I could create inside my head while writing these books. I loved that I could make things come alive with no effort at all. I could explore and build relationships with characters-people-who couldn't hurt me. Each book was different, breathing new emotion and new wonder inside me. I grew attached to my books when I had no one else. They became my confessional, confessor and absolution.
It wasn't until I was around 11 years old that I realised that I could write. I realised that I didn't have to be an adult to try writing things and that many of the authors who I looked up to started writing when they were a few years older than me. I started penning simple things based off some of my favourite novel and television characters. Simple fanfiction. I started to explore my ideas. I amused myself for hours, putting the characters in situations that I'd love to see happen. I began to build up a bit of confidence. I started to excel in English language in school. I was advanced and at the top of the class too. I started showing my teacher my work. Ms Gannon. She really believed in my writing. She showed it to my other teachers, who encouraged me to explore my writing in their classrooms as well. I worked on my history and geography assignments, building up my skills. Using the facts I spun great historical fictions and geographical adventures. I started to write on a more professional level (for my age) and started to branch out into journalism for the current events assignment we had to do each week. (It was boring and annoying, but I liked that I could add my thoughts on what was going on, often they clashed with the class and ended up with me being verbally executed.) I was encouraged to write about my bullying experiences as a way of getting out emotions I was struggling with. I used fiction at first the help me explore and work through difficult things, which I still do to this day. It was a helpful little tip that I picked up on and asked about. I was encouraged. I started to feel like I was something special.
It was around 13-14 that I started taking influence from the music that I listened to. I was heavily into Good Charlotte, Green Day, Blink 182, Hawthorne Heights and HIM around this time, so I listened to their voices, their lyrics and started to explore songwriting. I wasn't that good at first and really, it still isn't my forte. I'm not good with structuring songs, but I understand the gist of them. I liked the people who created these songs that I could relate to on so many levels, despite being much younger. It was also around this time that I started to use jokes to cover-up my deminishing self-esteem and to hide the fact that I felt left out and rejected by so many of my new classmates. I'd moved to the US-Canadian border and felt so out of place with my accent, my experiences and felt like I really didn't belong there. I tried so hard to fit in and they just kept laughing at me, so I figured why not write things that would make them laugh with me?
I began writing things in class and sharing the stories with some of my classmates, all of the stories were inspired by the bands that I loved. I wrote them from the band's point of views, like a day in the life type stories that were filthy and humorous. It didn't really explore my personal views or feelings about the band, nor were they really psychological dossiers, it was just smutty, funny things. It didn't matter that they were laughing at me as well as the stories; I was getting the attention that I so badly needed and wanted. Sure, it wasn't the most positive of attention, but it was attention none the less. Sometimes I still struggle with that. I don't care what type or flavour the attention is as long as I get it. I needed validation on some aspects of my work and I was getting it. I started to read fan-fictions on fanfiction.net One of my older pages is actually still on there and I go and look at how I've evolved since the age of 15 with my writing. Some of it was honestly horrible, but the ideas where there. I just didn't know how to properly execute them. It's a continuous learning process actually; you learn how to express your thoughts and emotions in new ways. You begin to find your voice in a sea of millions. It's so rewarding when you're able to look down and take pride in something you've created.
And I did take pride. I started to write my own short stories involving my own characters and themes. I shared them with my writing teacher who loved my uniqueness. I borrowed a few ideas from shows and other books to get me going, naturally, but as I started to progress I found my own sort of thing. I never showed her the filthy writing I'd showed my classmates. I did make a friend off these ridiculous scribbles of perversion and I'm still friends with him to this day. We moved away from each other a year later, but the memories of writing together (more filth naturally) was a real positive thing for me. I found someone who liked my humour and had the same sense of it. My writing teacher also encouraged him to write. She loved to read our writing journals for class. Thankfully, she was a good sport when she found one of our filthy little joke books we'd been writing. She laughed at it and even took it home to show her boyfriend. We honestly were lucky we didn't get suspended for some of the stuff in that book. And I still have it. It's coming up on 13 years ago we wrote that and some of it is still funny.
I started writing in college (high school) deeper things. I started crafting poetry and other short verses and I found I really enjoyed them. I could play with words; they were my friends, my enemies, my confessors and my condemnors. I loved the power this realisation granted me. When I was 15, I submitted a poem to a national publication of poetry and it won! (I have the award around here somewhere I think.) It was my first ever thing. Blue Sky. It talked about some of the sadness that I felt and how everything dark can be hidden inside of something beautiful. 2007. I got that letter that it was being published in a national book of poetry and I just screamed. I'd accomplished something. My new writing teacher was impressed and proud of me. She told me to get on with my writing, challenge myself, build off that, try and get a book published. I submitted a few things, short stories, I got told to expand them more by a few small publishers so I did. I was underage, so I'd have needed my mum's permission for certain things and I really didn't want her involved because I knew she'd steal the profits or it would cause trouble later on.
I went on to write in journalism for the corps of cadets. Yes, I was one of the cadet people. I did well in leadership and the heads of the programme saw that I could write well. (I also was one of the few students who had a camera and could speak two other languages reasonably well.) I got the job as the community affairs officer, writing pieces about what the corps was doing for the school and the community. I took all the photographs and wrote about our events. I went on almost all the trips the groups took, writing about the adventures, what was learned and impacts on both the corps and the communities that occurred on these trips. I did a lot of things and saw a lot of things because of this. I was something special. I even got to stand in as a student lecturer on leadership and taught courses on team building exercises. Which is hilarious because I am so introverted sometimes and I don't really do well with new groups of people...though I've made headway on that with a lot of my travels.
Later on, I went on to write and publish two books, both of which are no longer available. I wasn't proud of them when I looked back a few years on and felt like I could do so much better. I think I have. I've made mistakes as I've learned more about writing and editing through the years, and I still miss stuff. It's hard to do it all on your own, but I think I crack on okay. As of now, I have 5 books out for sale worldwide online and in physical shops in the UK, US, Canada and select countries within the EU.
I wanted to create something that allowed me to be seen when I was invisible. I wanted to scream something when I was voiceless. I wanted to be validated in all the ways I was lacking in my childhood and growing up. I know now that it was a pathetic attempt made by a man who doesn't belong. When I was younger I was diluted that I'd grow up to be a great writer, that I had some kind of magical talent. I thought that I had something good, that I had something to offer the world. I felt like I had a unique voice and creative, insightful things to say, so I went for it. I thought maybe I could shine more than I did in school, that I could maybe even be somebody special. It's not turned out that way. I don't really understand what I've done wrong. I've probably done a lot wrong and I just don't even realise it. I do want to give up, but I'm struggling with it. Maybe it's because I'm vain and still that desperate child begging for attention, craving stimulation.
GET MY WORK:
Blurb:
http://www.blurb.co.uk/search/site_search
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=anja+absinthe
And via Kindle search: Anja Absinthe
In another blog, I'll discuss the pen name and what it means.
If you can't find your country available on the list, let me know and I can make it available or try to make it available in your country and or region!
It wasn't until I was around 11 years old that I realised that I could write. I realised that I didn't have to be an adult to try writing things and that many of the authors who I looked up to started writing when they were a few years older than me. I started penning simple things based off some of my favourite novel and television characters. Simple fanfiction. I started to explore my ideas. I amused myself for hours, putting the characters in situations that I'd love to see happen. I began to build up a bit of confidence. I started to excel in English language in school. I was advanced and at the top of the class too. I started showing my teacher my work. Ms Gannon. She really believed in my writing. She showed it to my other teachers, who encouraged me to explore my writing in their classrooms as well. I worked on my history and geography assignments, building up my skills. Using the facts I spun great historical fictions and geographical adventures. I started to write on a more professional level (for my age) and started to branch out into journalism for the current events assignment we had to do each week. (It was boring and annoying, but I liked that I could add my thoughts on what was going on, often they clashed with the class and ended up with me being verbally executed.) I was encouraged to write about my bullying experiences as a way of getting out emotions I was struggling with. I used fiction at first the help me explore and work through difficult things, which I still do to this day. It was a helpful little tip that I picked up on and asked about. I was encouraged. I started to feel like I was something special.
It was around 13-14 that I started taking influence from the music that I listened to. I was heavily into Good Charlotte, Green Day, Blink 182, Hawthorne Heights and HIM around this time, so I listened to their voices, their lyrics and started to explore songwriting. I wasn't that good at first and really, it still isn't my forte. I'm not good with structuring songs, but I understand the gist of them. I liked the people who created these songs that I could relate to on so many levels, despite being much younger. It was also around this time that I started to use jokes to cover-up my deminishing self-esteem and to hide the fact that I felt left out and rejected by so many of my new classmates. I'd moved to the US-Canadian border and felt so out of place with my accent, my experiences and felt like I really didn't belong there. I tried so hard to fit in and they just kept laughing at me, so I figured why not write things that would make them laugh with me?
I began writing things in class and sharing the stories with some of my classmates, all of the stories were inspired by the bands that I loved. I wrote them from the band's point of views, like a day in the life type stories that were filthy and humorous. It didn't really explore my personal views or feelings about the band, nor were they really psychological dossiers, it was just smutty, funny things. It didn't matter that they were laughing at me as well as the stories; I was getting the attention that I so badly needed and wanted. Sure, it wasn't the most positive of attention, but it was attention none the less. Sometimes I still struggle with that. I don't care what type or flavour the attention is as long as I get it. I needed validation on some aspects of my work and I was getting it. I started to read fan-fictions on fanfiction.net One of my older pages is actually still on there and I go and look at how I've evolved since the age of 15 with my writing. Some of it was honestly horrible, but the ideas where there. I just didn't know how to properly execute them. It's a continuous learning process actually; you learn how to express your thoughts and emotions in new ways. You begin to find your voice in a sea of millions. It's so rewarding when you're able to look down and take pride in something you've created.
And I did take pride. I started to write my own short stories involving my own characters and themes. I shared them with my writing teacher who loved my uniqueness. I borrowed a few ideas from shows and other books to get me going, naturally, but as I started to progress I found my own sort of thing. I never showed her the filthy writing I'd showed my classmates. I did make a friend off these ridiculous scribbles of perversion and I'm still friends with him to this day. We moved away from each other a year later, but the memories of writing together (more filth naturally) was a real positive thing for me. I found someone who liked my humour and had the same sense of it. My writing teacher also encouraged him to write. She loved to read our writing journals for class. Thankfully, she was a good sport when she found one of our filthy little joke books we'd been writing. She laughed at it and even took it home to show her boyfriend. We honestly were lucky we didn't get suspended for some of the stuff in that book. And I still have it. It's coming up on 13 years ago we wrote that and some of it is still funny.
I started writing in college (high school) deeper things. I started crafting poetry and other short verses and I found I really enjoyed them. I could play with words; they were my friends, my enemies, my confessors and my condemnors. I loved the power this realisation granted me. When I was 15, I submitted a poem to a national publication of poetry and it won! (I have the award around here somewhere I think.) It was my first ever thing. Blue Sky. It talked about some of the sadness that I felt and how everything dark can be hidden inside of something beautiful. 2007. I got that letter that it was being published in a national book of poetry and I just screamed. I'd accomplished something. My new writing teacher was impressed and proud of me. She told me to get on with my writing, challenge myself, build off that, try and get a book published. I submitted a few things, short stories, I got told to expand them more by a few small publishers so I did. I was underage, so I'd have needed my mum's permission for certain things and I really didn't want her involved because I knew she'd steal the profits or it would cause trouble later on.
I went on to write in journalism for the corps of cadets. Yes, I was one of the cadet people. I did well in leadership and the heads of the programme saw that I could write well. (I also was one of the few students who had a camera and could speak two other languages reasonably well.) I got the job as the community affairs officer, writing pieces about what the corps was doing for the school and the community. I took all the photographs and wrote about our events. I went on almost all the trips the groups took, writing about the adventures, what was learned and impacts on both the corps and the communities that occurred on these trips. I did a lot of things and saw a lot of things because of this. I was something special. I even got to stand in as a student lecturer on leadership and taught courses on team building exercises. Which is hilarious because I am so introverted sometimes and I don't really do well with new groups of people...though I've made headway on that with a lot of my travels.
Later on, I went on to write and publish two books, both of which are no longer available. I wasn't proud of them when I looked back a few years on and felt like I could do so much better. I think I have. I've made mistakes as I've learned more about writing and editing through the years, and I still miss stuff. It's hard to do it all on your own, but I think I crack on okay. As of now, I have 5 books out for sale worldwide online and in physical shops in the UK, US, Canada and select countries within the EU.
I wanted to create something that allowed me to be seen when I was invisible. I wanted to scream something when I was voiceless. I wanted to be validated in all the ways I was lacking in my childhood and growing up. I know now that it was a pathetic attempt made by a man who doesn't belong. When I was younger I was diluted that I'd grow up to be a great writer, that I had some kind of magical talent. I thought that I had something good, that I had something to offer the world. I felt like I had a unique voice and creative, insightful things to say, so I went for it. I thought maybe I could shine more than I did in school, that I could maybe even be somebody special. It's not turned out that way. I don't really understand what I've done wrong. I've probably done a lot wrong and I just don't even realise it. I do want to give up, but I'm struggling with it. Maybe it's because I'm vain and still that desperate child begging for attention, craving stimulation.
GET MY WORK:
Blurb:
http://www.blurb.co.uk/search/site_search
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=anja+absinthe
And via Kindle search: Anja Absinthe
In another blog, I'll discuss the pen name and what it means.
If you can't find your country available on the list, let me know and I can make it available or try to make it available in your country and or region!
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