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Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Vingt Cinq

Vingt Cinq

A Bloggage
By
Alexander Gordon Jahans


I feel old. More than that I feel pathetic. I feel like a failure. I’m 25 and look what I’ve done? No job, no house of my own, barely scraping by on the dole and perpetually waiting for the reaper to claim me because my luck just seems that shit.

Except look what I’ve been through in the last two years. I annoyed the nazis enough with my videos that I got my own hate cult, I got diagnosed with Kallman’s Syndrome and Growth Hormone Deficiency and now I may have sleep apnoea. My parents separated, got divorced and the house is in the process of being sold. Shit got so bad with dad that I ended up scaring him enough that he stopped being such a massive dick. And oh yeah, my writing...

It is amazing how much I would genuinely rather a bullet to the brain than another round of the people I try to champion and defend attacking me. One mistake enough to tip the balance, one moment of bravery amid chaos, then two years of internal devastation after the tip of the iceberg of how big an evil shit I seemingly am breaks the surface.

I don’t even know if that makes sense but the point is that ever since that moment of enlightenment I have not trusted myself to write. Not properly. Not seriously. Ironically calling me out on being a misogynist drove my writing back in that direction. I already had conflicts about my fiction with regards to sexism. I could write the most sexist wish fulfillment shit under the sun and it didn’t matter because I knew it was shit and I knew I was writing it for me. It’s like my videos. I can churn out the shit without shame because I know it’s shit so I am not going to regret or feel shame about it.

The thing with Joss Whedon struck a chord because I am so problematic as a writer regardless of that fucking fanfic but I was trying to be better. The entire arc of the United Civilisations and the Paragon of Virtue was about trying to be better at representation. One of the examples bought up for how transphobic I am was a pair of characters that I included to try and gain confidence at writing characters of a demographic other than my own.

I’m not going to replay that bullshit again but that’s what has held me back. At least Joss Whedon had a period of being a ‘good’ writer that he can look back to for guidance when hatred erupts that he can’t understand. I can barely understand the neurotypical cisgendered mind and perspective never mind the trans experience. Which I suppose is how I got it so wrong but I honestly just wanted to provide better representation in my fiction and then friends who had fallen silent seemed to suddenly turn up scream “You’re a transphobic evil arsehole!”, nuke my social life then fuck off.

I didn’t know what I had done wrong and unless they turn up one day and decide to walk me through it I doubt I ever fully will. I know some of it but I also know that it wasn’t just that. Which to someone who has to consciously know and enact social skills is maddening. Then again one of the examples given was something I stand by, namely that apparently it is transphobic to suggest provocative shits are blocked and kicked without a fetishistic dogpile of the interloper. The ambiguity kills me. It rots at who I am as I try to guess at the iceberg.

If these paragraphs sicken and bore you imagine how it has felt to have my brain constantly arguing the issue. I have a fucking nazi hater cult and bless them they try so fucking hard. Even going so far as to fake a transphobic piece of fanfic as through it were written by me. It’s not the reputation that kills me. I get over shit like that quickly. To really rot me, you have to present me with an ambiguous accusation with just enough given evidence on either side as to suggest that you are just a shite hole or I really have done something I think is morally abhorrent but you don’t give enough knowledge to avoid me continuing to be horrible. Suffice to say I am never letting that situation happen again.

So writing for me has either had to be something that happens so fast I don’t have time to reflect on it or something I’m not going to publish, that is just for my enjoyment as a writer. Essentially it has to be a fetishistic fantasy. Except fetishistic fantasies bore me and the longer they go on the more the plot stops it being fun and collapses it into something serious that I then give up on because I think it’s awful. A mind as self loathing as mine can only believe a fantasy for so long and why write a horror for yourself?

This novel I have been working on had to do a few things.
1. It had to follow on from the myth arc I had already laid out while establishing a new paradigm to go forward telling stories with while also serving as service able and satisfying ending in case I no longer wrote anything again.

2. It had to provide closure for me on those past events. I could not make another major release and just ignore that the series was problematic as fuck. I am going to feel a need to grieve and seek redemption so the Farsh-nuke has to have a reason to grieve and seek redemption.

3. It had to provide opportunities to tell nazi stories from different perspectives since I have a pro-nazi audience so ‘genocide and bigotry is bad’ won’t cut it.

4. I needed more representation.

At first this was just going to be accomplished by telling a series but series are predictable. They are tropes within tropes. Boring. Just then boring was lethal so it couldn’t be that and anyway if the whole plot is about a replacement for the farsh-nuke it’s going to fail at the first hurdle. So I tried out different stories and gradually the idea of interconnected series developed. So new things were added.

4. A. A non-binary elder god and a Trans character having pulp scifi adventures.

4. B. A new Toy Maker series that pushes the idea that women society dismisses can be mighty powerful and seductive.

4. C. A story addressing the distressing lack of black representation and exploring the consequences of stuff alluded to in other stories.

5. There should really be mass media service in the multiverse.

6. I owe Skyrim that dragon Superhero

I have also added some stuff just because I thought they made interesting stories but the point is that this long difficult process is almost over. I genuinely think I could have the rest of it written up and formatted within a month and that’s a safe estimate. Could be done a fuck of a lot sooner than that.

And once that’s done, well we shall see what happens fiction wise.

Aside from that, my life is okay.

I mean it’s still not something I trust, I feel like I’m one bad day from it all falling apart still. Not very strong and stable at all right now personally. Yet I’m getting by and hopefully maybe we might actually be able to begin selling the house soon.

Even if that doesn’t happen I have enough birthday money to get a power supply upgrade for my pc and I’m going on a diet now so I should be able to start saving money for a decent graphics card, though obviously I’ll settle for something cheap enough to get skyrim to a steady 30 fps first.

I’m alright. I’m getting the writing done and slowly my life is sorting itself out.