A Fish Out Of School

Whilst going through folders of old paperwork to compile the list of projects (mentioned in my last post) I came across some old stories written when I was at secondary school. I surprised myself at how good they were, but what also struck me was how the themes of insecurity and paranoia kept cropping up within the neatly inked pages of A4.

That got me thinking of my time at school (ooh! bad idea!) and about the kind of person I was back then. I can't say I had a really bad time at the place - I was only moderately bullied and made fun of, nothing I couldn't handle - but I never really embraced learning at that time. I used to dream the lessons away, my head so far in the clouds I'm surprised Air Traffic Control wasn't on permanent alert. Consequently I was one of those invisible students - not brilliant, not so awful that they had to be constantly monitored - just average. Even the other children didn't seem to notice me (here Mister Cellophane from Chicago springs to mind), apart from the few friends I had.

I think back at the time I wasted hanging around at lunchtimes, in the doorway to the main building (which was also the entrance to the boys toilets... oh man, how bad does that look), just doing nothing, waiting for the wretched bell to ring in another tedious lesson. If I could travel back in time I would march that young man by the ear to the library and make him read until his eyes bled. It's easy for me to think now that I should have made more of my time at school, but it just wasn't me back then.

Apart from English lessons, of course, which I loved. I finally left Fitzharrys Secondary in 2005, with two 'O' levels both in English - language and literature - and a handful of CSEs. And I was never happier to leave. The irony of it all is at that point I suddenly became interested in learning. So that's what I did, which resulted in a degree from the Open University, finally achieved in 2005, twenty years after leaving school. In-between and since that time I've attended numerous work-placed and evening classes - Spanish, Japanese, IT, desktop publishing, drawing, tap-dancing, therapeutic massage, creative writing - plus an abortive attempt to get a degree at Newport Art College (as it was then called) in Film and Animation. I find the older I get the more I want to learn; even that invisus dictata maths suddenly has an appeal - c'mon, I can't be the only one who finds algebraic equations arousing??

I was also thinking about how much I've changed as a person since those early years. I'm more confident now then I've ever been in my life, but still people label me 'quiet'. (Apart from when I'm writing blogs, then I can't shut the hell up about myself.) I suppose that's true, but compared to some people I'm practically mute. But that's ok - I'm comfortable with myself now, knowing that I've made up for lost time and still have a lot more that I want to achieve.

As for the stories I had written I'm proud of what I did back then and who knows? I may use them as future projects. The creative vein has been tapped and I'm simply haemorrhaging stories. Well, maybe a slight exaggeration. But If you don't see another entry on here then you know that I've shuffled off this mortal coil due to literary induced anaemia.

Anyway, that's enough of that. I've got a chilli on the stove and a DVD of Alex Proyas's wonderfully dark The Crow to watch with Stu later. Good times!

Prologue

My very first venture into the strange world of Blogging. Not really sure what to expect. But here goes.

I guess I really want to write about... well, writing. Having completed my first short story for a creative writing course held at work, my mind is now ablaze (not literally, although I do smell burning sometimes) with ideas - new ones, old ones, things that just pop into my head or that something that I've seen/overheard in public. I have written stories before but the last one I penned (or more accurately typed) was somewhat, how shall we say, 'racy'... yes, I think I'll leave it at that. It's likely not for most tastes, not unless you like the idea of two men getting friendly.

The story for the course is called 'Shadow', a short supernatural story about a teenage boy who discovers something very unsettling down a dark alley. The alley and the boy are based on reality, the former being in my home town of Abingdon and the latter being (loosely) based on myself. The actual supernatural element didn't happen to me, but I did venture down that dark alley in on a perverse whim of frightening myself.

I'm sure this blog will eventually encompass other stuff too, such as my photography, travels, various odd art projects. Like I say, I'll give it a go and see where it leads. By the way, the title of the blog I came up with on the spur of the moment ages ago. I think I'll keep it as most of the time the noise is in my head... it just never seems to find the way out.

Now, how do I get this published...