My Story…Sorta (Chapter 1–Theories)

My blog is called “Autobiography of a Fameless Writer” because I intend on writing a book about my life. Well, actually, I’ve decided to write my story two ways. One as an autobiography in first persion and another through characters like a novel–changing names (sometimes). Why? Because I can. But also because I find it challenging to do the same story (my life) in different formats, using different words and maybe even reflecting on other aspects that didn’t make it in the first. I am a writer. Whether it be professionally (one day) or just creatively, these books, my life, will find an outlet. This blog is the title of what I will call my book, my autobiography. I came up with it a few years ago during a brainstorming session and free write in my journal. It came to me that I probably wouldn’t ever be a famous writer, or that my dream of becoming a journalist might not come true. It made me realize that even though my goals might not be achieved, my desire to write this book, will always be there.

In 2010, I began writing my fiction/non-ficiton, depending on the way you interpret everything. I mean, the stories are real, the experiences real, but some things may have been exagerated or names changed. And maybe a few added things that I just wanted to throw in…So, I guess, fiction. I havne’t worked on that piece since I wrote it. It’s just a few “pages”…or rather, I put it on my facebook in the notes section and put it on private. Now, I feel the need to post it on my blog. Get some criticism and begin my writing adventure again with it. I want to get this part done because I think my autobiography needs more time to develop. Afterall, I’m only 24. So below is what I worked on in 2010…I haven’t read it since then.

 

“I have a theory” said Kay.
“On what?”
“On him”
“On who?”
“Him who’s name we shall not speak.”
“Don’t go Harry Potter on me. And if you want to say his name, its fine. I’m done and over him”
“Thats what you said the last time until he hurt you again. And again. And again. Anyways, we’re getting off topic. I want to talk about my theory”

Kay always had theories. Nothing was ever just nothing. It was always something to her. Even as kids something was always brewing in her head. I met Kay when we were in 6th grade. The ever so popular C.W Robinson Academy, the only year round middle school in the district..of which we had the priiledge of being in. We met in P.E.–otherwise known as the class where all the insecure girls felt more insecure because it required to dress out in front of other girls, including the popular girls, who never failed at laughing at those who had to go into a stall to change in an attempt to hide their shame that they weren’t wearing real bras yet. I hated that class. So did Kay. We became fast friends.

“I think Mike only starts talking to you after he assesses what I tell him” she says. “Which isn’t anything. But anything is something for him.”

“I’m not quit sure that I’m following,” I said. “Think about it. The last few times Mike has reconnected with you he went through me first. He casually would either A) IM me and ask about you or B) write me a letter asking for you . Each time I took the bait because I hated to see you sad. He seemed to be the only one to make you happy before he hurt you again” “Thats one heck of a theory,’ I say.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought Kay actually had something. Afterall, her theories usually involved that someone out there (FBI or CIA) had inplanted special knowledge inside her head about everyone she ever had and will be in contact with. Which of course included her knowing we were going to be best friends from the beginning because the voice in her head said so. At that time I just thought she was crazy…but what does a 6th grader know? She had been right. We’re still best friends. I mean we survived middle school and high school and now wer’e both conquering (and almost done) with college. One more year and we’ll both be done.

“This theory may have some depth to it” I say.
“of course it does, I thought of it.”
“the only probloem is why coulnd’t you have known about Mike ..like you seem to know about everyone else. You’re FBI & CIA knowledge could have been helpful five years ago”
“I have a theory on that too” she said.
And before I knew it, Kay had just started rambling about that theory. The only problem was, I had stopped listening. I tuned in here and there and caught the gest of it all, but my mind was somewhere else. More like on someone else. Okay, it was on Mike

 

That is all I had written. I am going to start working on it again. I’m going to start creating “chapters’ per se and posting what I have. I know it’s going to take a long time and a lot of editing, but any feedback and help on how it would be helpful. Putting your life in words, whether in fiction, non-fiction, autobiographical, whatever it may be, is hard. No one knows your life like yourself. Right?

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