Short Story (autobiographical)

I don't remember when i first noticed i was different from other people.
But, it is a feeling I have carried with me as long as i can remember.
Where other kids were silly, giggly, light, all pastels and sugar, I was more dark, emotional, focused on heavy topics, and black.
I was creative, into art,. music, acting, singing, even photography at a very young age.
When i say art, i am not talking about crayon drawings of little houses with sunshine yellow balls in the sky.
Every box of crayons i owned, no matter the quantity of the box, my black crayon was worn down to a little nub, and, was usually the occasion to get a new box.
I would go out on my grandparents old wooden porch, and i would preform for no one or anyone who happened by in passing.
I sang, i danced, I played pretend, making plays off the top of my head.
I took my art easel outside, with my canvas and paints and painted in the front yard.
This was all when i was very small, like, really young for this kind of thing.
I also had a penchant for adding glitter to most of my works of art.
I swear, if they looked into my lungs there is still a ball of glitter in there, i inhaled so much in my feverish tossing of the stuff.
Glittery things still appeal to me, i get this sort of weird grin and am drawn to glittery things in stores, never mind that its cheap, tacky and ridiculous to buy at the age of 37.
I was a weird kid.
I was a weird Teenager too.
All brooding, writing poetry, drawing in sketch books, listening to music, staying up all night and sleeping all day, roaming the streets at night, and roaming in the woods alone in daylight drinking in natures beauty.
Always worrying about big political issues, when my peers at 14 and up were more concerned with sex, drugs, drinking, and pulling the wool over their parents eyes.
I am a weird adult.
I find myself still, even in my 30's, facing not being understood by peers.
I am still a freak, i am still into the art and the political worlds.
I am still me.
I have a personality that is hard for others to swallow.
I can be brutally honest. I do not believe in pretty lies over ugly truths, because, if the truth comes out, and it usually does, the pain is so much more than if you had just been honest to begin with.
I am direct. I am open.
I have an unbelievable lack of shame.
I will discuss anything, with anyone, at any time.
I love to be asked questions about myself, because i am infamous among the few friends i have and past acquaintances, for answering anything asked of me, regardless of how personal it may be.
It is fun to watch people try to shock me.
Even more fun to watch their faces turn red when i actually answer honestly.
However, the flip side of that coin is i sometimes volunteer more info than they want to know about me, and I also forget others have that deep rooted shame problem, and ask I will things freely.
Most people don't dig on that much.
My mother has always called me a free spirit.
It seems, most people are very uncomfortable with freedom.
Especially, when they see it in someone else and do not have it themselves.
So, i have few friends, well, one really, she and i have known each other since we were babies, and i have a few friends i talk with in email, who i don't see anymore from my childhood/teens.
I am often the pariah, the weird girl, the freak, regardless of the social setting.
I am often misunderstood to an annoying degree.
I live my life alone.
I have not had a date, kiss, boyfriend, or sex since 2003, when i left my abusive, cheating husband.
I took a three year sabbatical from men to work on myself
I wanted to get healthy in mind, body and soul before i ever considered even casually dating.
I lost so much of myself in my ex. In my marriage.
But, can you lose what you never knew or had to begin with?
So, I have found myself.
I am following my bliss.
Writing.
Screenplays specifically.
When i write, i feel alive, i feel so fucking amped up that i sometimes feel like the top of my head will blow off in a bloody mess.
Complete with fireworks.
Its a fire.
A passion.
it burns in my heart, in my belly.
I am more me than i have ever been when i write.
I am strong, confident, intelligent, and beautiful when i write.
Oddly, i did not start writing until 2006.
I had written some as a teen. But, at some point went into some very dark places and stopped anything creative.
I was broken like a doll left in the dirt, forgotten by its owner because it no longer was pretty.
i was broken for a very, very long time.
That is no more.
But, see, God, or serendipity, or whatever, stepped in.
It started so simply.
Music.
A Specific man, who both acts and does music.
I came across his music one day and started listening.
and...well...
FUCK ME!
It put a spark in my soul, in my heart, in my mind.
Some stranger.
A celebrity at that.
He gave me a gift, a life changing gift.
He did something no other human being had ever done.
He inspired me. He spoke to me. He touched me. He reached me.
He broke through all the walls, and armor, I had long had around me that had been a impenetrable fortress within.
He woke up a sleeping beast, a good beast mind you, and once unleashed.
I
Was
Alive.
So, I began to write, and i have not stopped writing since.
I am a new person.
The changes i have gone through, all for the good, in the last year.
Mind blowing.
No pyrotechnics. No blood. No gore.
Just beauty.
This guy, this stranger, he makes me feel less alone in the world.
A world that never wanted me, and never has wanted me.
And, not just because of the music, its the things he feels passionately about, the things he says, the things that matter to him, his experiences, heart, and mind are not so unlike my own in some ways.
I really relate to this guy.
It is a beautiful thing.
I am a beautiful thing.
For the first time I do not see myself as worthless, ugly and pathetic.
It amazes me how good things come from the most unexpected places.
I was not looking for inspiration, I was just trying to get healthy.
I had no direction about anything regarding a career or future.
I looked into my future and all i saw was a dark abyss, and me standing on the precipice.
Blind, naked, and alone.
So, I am going to be a screen writer, no ifs, ands or buts.
I know this, it is fact, as much fact as the sun rises and the sun sets.
Its in my soul.
Against the odds. I will do it.
I am just a simple southern woman, well, maybe to someone looking in from the outside.
Looks are deceiving.
What they can't see, however, is the strength of a survivor or both child and adult sexual abuse.
The child that was abused at home and then emotionally abused at school.
The girl that, for years cut herself to feel better.
The woman whose husband pointed a loaded shotgun at her head one night, saying "stop crying before i blow your fucking head off".
The woman that has suffered endless depression and anxiety.
The woman that spent ten years of her life just waiting to die.
The woman who has lost over 200 pounds.
The woman that has had far more than her fair share of major health problems and heartbreak.
The woman who is able to love unconditionally, not judge, and be empathetic to most anyone.
The woman who is strong. Who can not be beat down permanently.
The woman who will kick your ass if you try.
The woman with the spine of steel and a good, kind heart.
I guess, it just takes a closer look to see those things.
Most people don't bother.
But, being alone, it doesn't have to mean lonely.
Truthfully people can get on my nerves like mad, because i do not relate to them and they do not relate to me.
I prefer time with people who get me, get it.
They are few and far between.
But they do come along once in a blue moon.
I always know those people, my tribe, my people, from the first conversation.
The conversation makes me feel energized, and usually goes on for some amount of time.
Conversations with people i do not relate too suck me dry, like it is exhausting and sucking the very life from my bones.
I live for those good conversations.
They are my nourishment.
Those people, they feed me in a way no gourmet meal ever could.
They are far more delicious, words, good words from a good heart and sharp and creative mind.
Beautiful words dripping down over me slow like honey, quenching a hunger of the soul.
A hunger that aches within me everyday of my life that is lacking those conversations.
Almost as good as sex.
I call it sex for the mind. Sex for the intellect.
Mind blowing mindgasms.
The earth does indeed move.
Words are like a kiss if you think about it.
A soft movement of the lips, as the words flow down, being caressed by the tongue.
Filled with passion, with desire, with hope, with love.
Not everyone grasps the weight of words.
They can lift you to heaven and can throw you into the pits of hell.
they can exalt you and they can break you.
Words are power.
Words are life blood.
Am i taking words too seriously?
Well.... I guess, being a natural born writer.......
Word are my thing.

hollywood creative directory

I got my Hollywood creative directory a couple days ago.
Its the summer 2006 edition, i can't afford the current one.
But, even a year old, its still pretty current.
So, since i haven't gotten my first screenplay registered with WGA (http://www.wgaeast.org/ ) yet, i (am doing my first one next month.)

I have to slowly register and query because i am poor, i live on a $623 disability check right now.
So even $22 is hard to come up with to register one.
not to mention supplies, printing, and postage.
I do have a link on the left, the impoverished girl fund, if you would like to help me in my pursuit of a writing career, click it and donate.


So, I have been looking through the book, marking companies i want to query.
I was very happy to see some take emails, in fact, some ONLY take emails.

I am so amped up about writing.
when i started writing last year, it is like i found what God built me to do.
Found my bliss.
Found my way in life.
Found ME.

I had wanted to be a writer when i was young, but, was creatively constipated for most of my life.
The inspiration was there, but, i just couldn't get it down on paper.

I was also very lost all my life with no direction, and no desire to do anything for a living, nothing appealed to me, and in fact, make me feel very depressed considering anything.

I was a creative teen/kid.
But,I had alot of bad stuff go down in my life, and i locked it away.

Last year i accidentally came across some music by the actor James Marsters.
It is simple music, not extraordinary in any way really,
But, for some reason it felt like home, it kinda just crept into my heart and felt so comfortable.

I related to the things he wrote about.
I liked how he wrote it.

and suddenly this idea for a movie that was just, like a small shadow, began to bloom while i listened to his music, plot and character development just started rushing into my mind and i began to write.

Writing changed me profoundly.

I am not the same person i was before i started writing.

i am a whole nother animal.
a better one.
More me.
more comfy in my own skin.
and, i found my way in life, i am not lost anymore, i have direction

writing is my destiny.
its not a feeling of IF i can sell scripts, its so much the feeling of when.

i love feeling that confident, because, i pretty much never feel confident in my gut about anything i don't end up succeeding at.

-H

Hello!

I am starting this blog to write about my screenwriting, and all things related to it, including my hopes, feelings, frustrations and tiny little baby steps.

Enjoy the queen of TMI's rambling, lol

HeatherLinn