Or rather, the making of self’s book.
12 July 2006
Am to write a book for self’s English Proficiency class as a project. Am initially very bothered when first told yesterday – not because have nothing to write, but don’t know what stories that churn in self’s head to choose to write. Could try a hand at writing a children’s book as that is one of self’s favourite reading genres, or be more sophiscated and write an angst-y, profanities-ridden sort of novel as another means of a stress-relieving outlet, or that story that have thought up a long time ago but never got around to really writing it – about a world where people die if they reach the peak of their happiness.
But finally, self have made up to write about something that requires little research yet am knowledgeable enough about the subject – self. Am going to write an autobiography. The objective of this is to write about self’s life – uncensored. This blog, although being very personal to self in the sense that do not even reveal its existence to friends and family, glosses over a lot of aspects in self’s life that is shameful.
So if self ever should die unexpectedly, this book serves to be the messenger of secrets in self’s heart.
The project is due somewhere in October of November, so this page will be updated frequently to chronicle the making of the autobiography. Am planning to show excerpts of the book and will consider publishing it here after it is finished. As this is an anonymous blog, the published version here will definitely be heavily censored to protect self’s identity. Hahaha, can hear you muttering, “Isn’t this supposed to be an uncensored autobiography?” But it is – it’s the blog that’s censored.
And yes, have decided on the title of the autobiography:
Do NOT Read This: A No Holds Barred Autobiography
Isn’t it an arresting title? Haha.
Am so excited. Already thinking of book cover designs. And haven’t even got lecturer’s approval yet! (She has to give the go-ahead after proposing the book’s plot.)
17 July 2006
The first moment could, self spoke to lecturer and self’s idea about book. Unfortunately she rejected the idea – mostly due to self’s condition for the autobiography, which was not to let the book be read by peers and displayed in the upcoming Open Day. (Like hello? Let classmates read self’s deep dark secrets or God forbid, parents?! Only after death claims this soul)
So am most likely writing that story about people who die at the peak of their happiness. Self could skip the research part in this idea, as it is a fantastical plot and requires more imagination than research.
Am not very enthusiastic anymore – maybe later in the timeline of the project when have thought out fully the plot and character development.
One part of self is pressing to start the outline of the story so it wouldn’t be such a hacked up rush job as deadline approaches. Yet another part is asking to wait, hoping inspiration will strike with a better story to write that makes self revive the enthusiasm for this writing project. Nothing fuels self more than inspiration and passion.
Guess there’s no censoring of this story now that it’s not the story of self’s life.
Suddenly feel like writing a sexually explosive novella.
Then could alter the title to:
Do NOT Milk This! A No Bra Holds Autobiography
Someone shoot self. Please.
26 July 2006
Today the lecturer gave a proforma for the projects we will be doing in this class, among which is the story writing project. Dashing self’s hopes of an inspiration-struck written story which may very well likely to be stimulated by deadline stress (speaking of stress, it has caused self’s blemished visage to have an unprecedented eruption of stressne – stress + acne – so am now resembling very much like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, except have several more red noses than him; and while he gets to lead Santa Claus, self get to lead the ugliest face in the faculty competition) is a timeline of the project. We are to present the plot to said lecturer next week and hand the first draft in two weeks later. Or three, can’t remember.
Nothing good enough springs to mind. What’s good enough? A story that’s good enough is a story that inspires self to write. When am inspired, nothing can stop self, like a feverish urge to pen all thoughts in writing (typing) as soon as possible.
Kind of like when you need the toilet to take a dump, isn’t it? Just replace some key verbs in the previous sentence, is all.
So am suffering from inspiration constipation.
That’s why was so keen on writing an autobiography – am a huge fan of talking about self.
Notice the phrase am a huge fan of talking about self. It is entirely different from am a huge fan of self.
But self digress.
Won’t think about it now, because there’s just so many things to do now. Am that point in life where am so bleeding busy that have no time to think; just bulldozing through the classes, meals, drives and days.