The Story So Far...

As anyone who has looked at my memoir or read some of my more personal poetry will know, I went through difficult times as a teenage boy, things which had a significant knock-on effect in adult life. I'd bottled up what had happened for years, mainly due to the humiliating nature of what I'd been through, but slowly I'd started to write about it. I'd posted bits and pieces of it on several sites, but nothing extensive.

A couple of years ago I was on a site called DeviantArt - a site intended mainly for artists but which had a literature section - and it was there I started to write a memoir. In a single 24 hour period a farcical drama ensued. Just as WdC has merit badges, DA has badges. If people like your work, you can get a quartz, emerald or even (pause for a roll on the drums) a diamond badge! They also have a thing called the "Daily Deviation", where the mods can select work that is then given a high profile on the site for that day. So I'd just written an intense chapter - I won't recount it here, but it's in my memoir for the curious. This was spotted by a mod, given an emerald badge (woo-hoo), and picked for a Daily Deviation - at which point some pearl-clutcher must have complained (I guess because I was 14 at the time of the incident, and they probably assumed it to be inappropriate fetish fiction), another mod took the work down, refused to reinstate it on appeal, and so I was effectively censored. Talk about mixed messages...

So, in a fit of pique, I took down the whole schmeer and stomped off in the direction of...well...away. Flouncing was the the thing that mattered...having a destination to flounce to was entirely beside the point...and, oh my dears, did I ever flounce! It was simply too much, dahlings! I then dabbled with Booksie, Wattpad and the like, all to no great end result - I had entirely the wrong material for that audience. I stumbled on WdC and a couple of other sites (the names of which escape me at the moment), took a couple of days to size them up, then started working on my memoir. I ended up solely on WdC for one reason and one reason alone - there was actually some interaction between users here. It was the only place I wrote stuff and got a) readers and (get this) b) feedback! And not just feedback, but considered, helpful feedback at that.

In the early days, I guess there were three people who helped the most when I started posting work - dogpack saving 4premium , Nobody’s Home and, of course, Schnujo's Doing NaNoWriMo? . Viv gave me early feedback on my work, she and Angela also gave me a steer on how the site worked, and when I ventured onto the newsfeed and started sticking in my oar there, Jody acted as cheerleader to ensure I suddenly had a much higher profile on the site.

But the great mission was always...THE MEMOIR. Over time I expanded it, fiddled with it, monkeyed with it, tinkered with it and generally managed to avoid doing anything so tediously conventional as, you know, actually finishing the damn thing. But along the way it got a whole lot better due to reviews, particularly from the three hardy souls who read the whole thing from start to finish and reported back to me on every chapter: Vicki tracker , Petra WakeUpAndLive~doingNaNo'24 and Cat Voleur (who seems to have given up with WdC).

It was those reviews that caused me to stay here. I don't want to side-track too much into what my memoir was about, but I do need to touch on it briefly. When I was a teenage boy and a bit overweight, I was forced against my will to wear women's shapewear. As you can imagine, this was hard for me to deal with, but in some of these other sites I would get adverse reactions that would fall into three types. I would be accused of making it up, or if I was believed then I'd be accused of secretly liking it. But the worst was when I encountered fetishists who believed me and took pleasure in what I'd been forced to do. I've had none of that BS at any stage from anyone on WdC.

So The Great Work was finished (well, I refuse to go back and screw with it any more, which amounts to the same thing ) and it was a relief to finally be able to get things off my chest after all those years. That then raised the question...now what? I'd done some contests along the way, a lot of the time going on about my messed up teens, and so I started broadening my remit by trying short stories and poetry. If you'd told me a couple of years ago I'd have had a go at poetry I'd have laughed like a drain.

Free verse intrigues me - I don't understand it for one. Somewhere deep in my brain is the simple equation no metre + no rhyme = prose, but I try anyway, with no idea if what I produce is good, bad or indifferent (though I've a suspicion it's not options 1 or 3). I'm more in my element when metre and rhyme are the order if the day. I seem to have found a knack for humorous and/or nonsensical stuff. There are two I'm well pleased with - the humorous (if a bit bawdy) "The Tale of Sir Richard "  and the out-and-out silly "The Jewel Thief" .

As for prose - memoir apart, I've yet to cross the 2000 word barrier, though I plan to give it a spirited attempt in the next few weeks. It's going to be based on a picture prompt for a contest last summer, and I missed it as my appendix chose that precise moment to shuffle off this mortal coil. It took me a few weeks to get back into writing, and by that time the contest was long done. But I had A GOOD IDEA, dammit, and I WILL inflict it on you! I hope to get it done before I cease to be a Newbie in a couple of month's time.

As for long term ambitions...I have none. Not a one. I have no desire to publish - I imagine there would be little interest anyway - so I suppose I'm just a hobbyist. I find it relaxing and entertaining, both to churn out my own doggerel and to read the works of others. I maybe spend too much time here - the new 7-day badge on my Achievements page tells me I've visited the site 48 days in a row.

The one thing I don't do much of is reviewing. First of all, as a noob myself I'm always wary of being an Instant Expert giving out advice when my own writing is hardly Booker Prize winning material. But often I find that, after reading a piece, I'm stuck for something meaningful to say. I can always point out typos, or grammatical issues, or big picture stuff, but actual meaningful analysis is far too often beyond me, and if I am to give feedback then I'd like to give something tangible that would help the author rather than something well-intentioned but empty. Maybe that's a skill I'll develop over time.