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Category: Writing and Poetry
For those of you who are new to reading my rants, not too long ago I had a minor bout of writer's block. The rants that I've been posting over the course of the past week are the type of things that I like to write best. But I got a little burnt out and my mind stopped thinking in a straight line long enough to get anything written.
So I began a journey into fiction. I suppose that I'm lucky that writer's block for me is something very different from what it is for everyone else. I'm the daughter of an English teacher, and while I love my mother, growing up I used to loathe how she would force me to write. She enrolled me in creative writing courses and made me write book reports for her during spring breaks. "Just write," she would intone. She believed that if you sat down and started scribbling something... anything... that nature would take its course. Writing fiction has never been an issue for me.
So I started a story that remained untitled for 17 parts, finally gaining its moniker of "The Dawn of Darkness" in part 18. Around the time that I posted the 14th or 15th part, I was certain that it was just about finished. But my mind just kept adding more to the story. It was as if it wouldn't let me kill it until it was done breathing.
It started out as a simple exercise to keep my writing skills up and turned into a fucking monster. It transitioned from a questionable love story to a sex-drenched romp to something altogether twisted. As I continued to write it, I went down in my prior high rankings. People unsubscribed in droves. But I couldn't shake it until it was over.
I never planned any of the parts ahead of time. I sat down at night, after Midget had gone to sleep and would peck out the next installment to be posted the following morning. If you had asked me at Part 3 if I had any clue what was going to happen in Part 22, I wouldn't have been able to tell you. But fuck. I wouldn't have been able to tell you what would have happened in Part 4.
I received some really positive responses from the piece, and while I ended up hating the bitch in the end, Dawn was quite the experience for me. She freed my mind from all of the bullshit trappings that it had been drenched in, and allowed me to feel confident enough to go back to the writing style that I consider to be my specialty.
I've moved her over to my personal site, so if her fans go looking for her, that's where she's been laid to rest. For the newer readers, if you ever get bored and have a few hours time on your hands (or if you're one of those people whose work has MySpace blocked) head on over there and give it a whirl. If you're not into graphic, you might want to steer clear though. To give you an idea of what it got like, I'll just let you know that I read two books by Jack Ketchum over the time that I was writing it.
Here are the links to the various parts. You can read many of my other writings at this site as well. There are over 100 pieces that were previously posted here at MySpazz in my more comfortable style, as well as diary type entries that are only posted there, in case you want an idea of what the inside of my head sounds like at times. Thanks for reading.
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty Part Twenty-One Part Twenty-Two Part Twenty-Three Part Twenty-Four Part Twenty-Five Part Twenty-Six Part Twenty-Seven (The End)
6:45 PM
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