Nanowrimo 2013

Nanowrimo 2013 is over, and I am happy to say that I was a part of it. Everyone involved with making this project so special should be given an award promptly.

I know this is going to sound ridiculously cheesy, but I am so incredibly thankful for everyone I get to connect with join nanowrimo. It’s so incredibly inspiring to see other writers seemingly do the impossible and also support you join the process. I have never met my writing buddies, but every year seeing their progress spurs me on, and I am so incredibly proud when I  get to see their bars turn into purple winners ones. This community is awesome, and it’s something I really miss throughout the year. 

This has been a hard month for me in lots of different ways - and in a shock turn of events - writing has actually allowed me to keep my sanity through it. (I know, right? Who would have thought?)

To the people who wrote 600 words to the people who wrote 60 thousand, be proud of yourself. This month you gave yourself the goal of creating something new, and regardless of how small or how big that thing is, you still did it. It doesn't matter what your end word count is, it matters that you allowed your imagination to really take a hold of it’s self. You’re all goddamn superheroes <3

 I’m definitely suffering the post wrimo- blues and I will miss the countless word sprints on twitter, the incredibly inspiring pep talks being delivered straight to your email, and the general buzz that you aren't doing it alone. 

it’s like, ”wow! you can finally watch new TV shows! you can make plans to see your friends! you can catch up on your work! YOU CAN HAVE YOUR LIFE BACK!” and you just instantly miss your unwashed greasy self slumped over your laptop with a cup of coffee.  It’s insanity but I love it.

This year I end my novel Shake The Stars From Your Skin at 56, 289 words.

To  the next year.

Old Habits Die Hard

The human race have got it wrong because they are always telling themselves phrases like, ''it will get better'' instead of ''this is a process where it will get better, then worse, then better and you will somehow have to find a way with dealing with that.''

I was thinking a lot the other day about the J.D sallinger quote, 'I have scars on my hands from touching certain people' and it reminded me how easy it is to not imagine human beings complexly: with their sets of emotions and histories. You don't see it on a person, and most people damn well don't show it - but those 'emotional scars' if you will, are definitely there.

Human beings are extremely messy and I find it strange how it's just too easy to forget that, to forget that other people are feeling things all the time. It's easy to forget that souls grow tired easily, and the scars that they carry from touching other people,  just don't fade sometimes.

Picking yourself up from gutters is an extremely hard thing to do and it's a miracle that we even posses the ability to do so, and most of the time, the picking yourself up is entirely on your own accord. We somehow carry ourselves through the sadness, through the bad history and bad patches, and we carry on. But nobody else really knows that, there is no gold star or huge parade, you just do it, I guess.

And I think it's kind of okay that we don't have that gold star or huge parade or even just people noticing that we're picking ourselves up. I think it has to come from you, and you alone - because you know that badness will return, nobody's life is devoid of that, but you will  also know that when it does come, you're going to be your own hero.


Don't forget that being a messy human being is sometimes the only thing you can be. Something which I wrote for nanowrimo  which made me think that, ''Here was a man that was plagued by being the one thing he is supposed to be: a human. ''


I have seen the darkness of the day in the form of a UCAS application and Nanowrimo all in one month but I am still *alive, gang. Keep being messy.

*Half alive.

Alright Stop, Collaborate & Listen

Guess who's back with a brand new invention?

(I am).

I've recently become apart of a student lead pop culture blog which can be found here. It has the most abstract name in the history of pop culture blogs.

I've also been heavily inspired by Eve Ensler's books to experiment with a more collaborative style and dip into different forms of narratives -  vignettes, prose, poetry etc, and created a tumblr which explores the theme of love. It can be found here.

Victories Come In Different Sizes

People call me the PG Heisenberg. I am the one who politely rings the doorbell. *BREAKING BAD THEME FADES INTO BACKGROUND*

I have now officially utilized that Breaking Bad joke on every internet related thing I have. Feel proud of me, folks. It's a small victory.

Victories come in different sizes.

And for me, it's the tiny ones which are the most valuable. The moments in the day which are fleeting and unimportant to everyone else, but make you really happy. For instance; making yourself a damn good cup of coffee. No one gets to taste it, but darn, you know you did good. Or thinking you are running late to something when infact, you are right on time. Small Victories are the stitches between the patchwork of a person, the little pockets of positivity that remind you that the world is not so bad of a place after all. Regardless of how bad things get, Small Victories are a constant. There will always be good cups of coffee and crunchy leaves to stand on. Remember that.

Small victories of today:

A) I just swallowed a Tablet which makes me an Adult with a capital A. Someone congratulate me by bringing me a soft kitten to stroke.

B) I witnessed the school photocopier which can STAPLE  things. Modern day society, everyone.

C) I ate noodles for lunch.

D) I almost hit the end note in Stars from Les Mis (except not really).

”What does not kill you, will only make you stronger, braver, a better person.”

But sometimes I think the art of being brave is to not recollect from the past, not to yearn for the past to change your future, it is about wandering into the present with a blank canvas.

However, having said that, I wish I had recorded the thoughts and words I didn’t say but wanted to. Played them back to myself, made them my phone’s ringtone, familiarized myself with them not only until they were comfortable in my mind but until they were comfortable in my mouth so if the time ever arises for when they were needed, they roll off like a wave in the ocean.

I am just a series of mummers from the mouth. The maybes and the I'll do it laters. The they-did-not-mean-it.The half human who feels anxious about asking the bus driver for a ticket.

My brain rolls over the memory of a boy in my art class calling me fat. If I remember correctly, he actually called me a whale.

 I replay this situation a thousand times but instead of sulking, I engulf the boy like he is Pinocchio. Or maybe I jump on the desk - like in Dead Poet’s Society - and spew out a inspirational monologue which informs my fellow class mates that worth is not assigned to the size of your pants. Your mouth doesn’t just taste food, it tastes languages and love. So speak already.

Your body is a harvester for love and laughter and smiles; a microcosm of wisdom and intelligence and compassion. Also, Whales are kind of badass, so don’t worry if you look like one.

Or maybe, maybe I am super intimidating and I dropkick the boy, right in the groin. Then I scream, ”THERE ARE GOVERNMENT SECRETS HIDDEN BETWEEN THE ROLLS IN MY STOMACH, A CLAP OF MY THIGHS CONJURES ENOUGH THUNDER TO TAKE OUT THE WHOLE OF LONDON, YOU DO NOT WANT TO MESS WITH ME BITCH.”

It is easier to be brave with your eye’s closed. It is easier to imagine yourself saying things.

Freaks and (fictional) Greeks

The title is a play on the TV Show Freaks and Geeks. I don't think Greek people (fictional are not) are freaks, fyi.

But they are mad tripping, yo'.

I'm currently studying the tale of Electra and the House of Atreus in Drama.

 On the power point my teacher was using, there was a subtitle that said 'at least the simpsons didn't eat Maggie'.

Yeah, not the most conventional of Houses.

Essentially, there is are lots of incidents which involve: the eating of children, curses and scandalous romances. If they were around today there most definitely would be a channel four documentary about them.

The F word

Heads up: This is slightly rambly and personal but something which I've wanted to write about.

(TW: body image, ed, fat shaming)

People cannot say the F word.

Fat.

Which, of course, is entirely understandable. We have built a culture where the word 'fat' holds 
such a huge negative weight  around it, that if  we are to associate somebody with being fat, we are insulting them in the worst possible way.  But why is it insulting? Because nobody wants to be a Fat Person™ .

Fat Person™ is a overweight person who lives a terrible life because of their weight. They are undateable,  can't achieve any forms of success, unhealthy, dumb, not interesting, and unattractive.  This trademark has been perpetuated in educational systems, by the media, in workplace environments, by cultural perceptions - etc etc. Our foundations, our whole empire, consists of fat hating and fat phobia..We equate thin with a semantic field of positivity: attractive, healthy, successful, and have now internalized such a deep stigma around fat people and fat people's lives that we are now so unbelievably uncomfortable in associating people with it.  

It's such extreme bullshit.  A) We need to expel the myth that our body is only healthy when our body is thin.  We also need to expel the myth that our health is only connected to our appearance. Health is personal. Something which needs to be individually defined for each human being, it is not defined by a waist size. Also, unhealthy people, whether thin or fat, deserve respect and kindness too. You have no fucking idea what someone might have gone through for their health to be a certain way and it's not your concern. Your concern is to support them mentally.  B) Fat people are allowed to be sex positive and date whoever the fuck they want, just like everyone else. Regardless of what Cosmo magazine tries to tell you. C) Fat people can act and be whoever they want period. Their weight is never an indicator of their identity. 

As a chubby girl, I am constantly reminded by my peers that I am not chubby. No doubt they do this in order to not harm my self esteem,  so I  know they don't think I am a Fat Person™.  But really, it is ten times more harmful.  It is hard to accept your  body when people are constantly in denial of it even existing. ''You're not fat'', ''You're not big at all!'', ''Your weight doesn't even matter''. I can't even begin to count how many times this all has been said to me. I know my weight; I feel my stomach rolls when I sit down, my huge thunder thighs when I walk, my body has been with me all my life. I know it.  But  when people are constantly trying to comfort me by making me not accept it, it makes me feel confused and panicked. 

It upsets me to think people don't think I'm conscious of my weight. It upsets me that people don't think I want to be conscious of my weight. It affects how I get dressed on the morning - I can't wear that skirt because my stomach is visible, that skirt will make my hips look wider, those will make my legs look stumpy, ETC ETC.  

But it shouldn't do. I should be able to live my life in a fat body and fucking rock that fat body. If I look fat one day, I want someone to come up to me and be like, ''your pudge is on show and it looks fucking awesome''.

 I want to reclaim being a Fat Person™.