How to be an honest writer? ….Write something real!
I BET MY LIFE WILL SHOCK YOU!
I just read in a book that the best blogs that succeed are the ones that post regularly, stick to what they know and also are honest about not only their words but also their life experiences they write, so a connection is made with the reader/viewer. Well I do the other two pretty well so here goes nothing on the third.
My name is Alexander Kennedy. I am twenty-five years old and when I am not stacking shelves at a store I am writing fiction stories to not stack shelves in a store anymore. I’m originally from Scotland a very small town called Renfrewshire, which I and mother and three siblings moved from when I was seven to come to England.
I was a quiet kid, “a mommas-boy” …but I had a knack for storytelling and making up the best lies to get out of trouble because the detail in which I told was so precise, it was rather hard for anyone not to believe it, I believed them sometimes myself.
When I left school, I started a computer course to possibly get a job as web-designer (I lost my touch at writing.) When I wasn’t studying I was hanging around with the wrong crowd, getting in all sorts of trouble with other gangs and the law.
At the age of sixteen I started getting headaches, ones that made me black-out. So to the doctors I was dragged. They tested me for everything, blood-tests, brain-scans until one sceptical doctor prescribed the words “I may have a brain tumour.” I remember walking home from the doctors in silence, the stroll took forever. I just went back to where I lived by myself and sat in the dark, awake all night thinking I was going to die someday soon. Jokes on them!
A few months later I was cleared of a Brain-Tumour! YEAH!!!! And they said “This could be the onset for schizophrenia. (You can stop cheering now!) Haha!
So I became a mental patient, told to live on pills. Not very nice ones at that. I thought to myself everything was going to be fine…. ….How wrong was I?
It wasn’t soon after until the headaches started causing nose-bleeds. As the quiet one in the group, I steered away from my boys and started my own little hate workshop by myself as a recluse. The paranoia was getting to me. I pushed everyone away and in my eyes the deserved it!
I had friends but they eat my food and stole my money.
Me: “I had a Twenty-Pound-Note on the side….”
Bad-Friend: “Nope, I didn’t see anything. Are you sure it wasn’t all in your head?”
As the bad friend slides the note into his pocket.
Me: “Yeah, probably. Thanks mate.”
It wasn’t long before I was an eighteen year old man and I weighed six-stone. Not a good look for the ladies to be arm-in-arm with.
I have written another article about my life entitled “Eminem saved my life! Now I write everything.” It explains in more detail of my suicide attempt and the reason for me to start writing again.
But the words become a portal for me; a portal from all this anger I had inside. I wrote everything and I still have the five-hundred song verses I wrote in one year in my cupboard in my room.
But I started to become very weak, as in a day I was eating perhaps one sandwich. I was a female celebrity dieter.
My mother has never stepped into our business and told us how to live. But she draws the line at starvation and death. She practically told all my so-called friends to beat it. (Not in those words but within her Scottish accent.) She dragged me back home and made reassured me that I was going to get better. My mental state deteriorated and I was house-bound. My mom stayed-up most nights listening to me ramble they most crazed and warped thoughts every to come out of the mouth of an eighteen year old. While all my friends were going abroad and having unprotected sex with strangers and getting pregnant, I was rocking back and forth in the corner of my bedroom with my hands over my ears trying to block out the voices.
And here I am just over six years down the line. I have been brain clear on and off for around four years, I know I am getting better. Yes, I have put all my weight back on and have got a smoking-hot girl on my arm, well, what can I say I’m a good-lookin’ Mo-Fo! With a killer smile. Boom!
And I will continue to write everything, because everything I have been through is my ammo.
But If I die tomorrow, I would just like to say Thank you and I love you to my Mother. She has had a worse life than me and most of us out there and she still holds a smile on her face and puts other people before herself. She inspires me to become something better.
They say we all have a book within us. Mine would be a good read. I will keep it short though; I wouldn’t want to relive it all again for entertainment purposes or for another view on my blog, I am not that desperate.
I hope this short story about my life has given you a little insight about me.
Stay awesome and…..
Keep those pens busy…..
- Ottawa Spring Sprint for the Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada (northernbeavertales.wordpress.com)
- What To Write About? (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- I Need Help To Write! – Alex Kennedy To The Rescue. (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- The Psychotic Writers Blog! (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)