|That Dead Account|
I have existed on this planet for twenty five years. In this time I have come to the following conclusion.
When you are in middle school, maybe even elementary school, it is appropriate to indulge in the works of others, imitating the styles and flavors of your favorite works, and indeed seed an growing interest in a significant if overlooked art.
There comes a point when you want to do more with your accumulated skills. If you are capable of creating your own people, your own worlds, and thus your own stories, why do you not?. It is inappropriate and the mark of hack to continue to meander in the works of others. The time has come for me to mature my craft or perish all together.
Read more. Write more. But when you write, if you truly care about what you are trying to say, create your own worlds. The gratification of creating something that is wholly and truly yours alone is far more worthwhile than a thousand reviews and favorites.
Give em hell. Oh, and fanfiction is for the birds.
"Now he had form and substance. He had become a personality, something they had filtered out of the system many decades ago. But there it was, and there he was, a very definitely imposing personality. In certain circles — middle-class circles — it was thought disgusting. Vulgar ostentation. Anarchistic. Shameful."
"'Repent, Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman" (1965) - Harlan Ellison
A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.
-Robert A. Heinlein
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