The Story of Kas

The Story of Kas—You know, like the Angel who gripped Dean tight and pulled him from perdition.

As stated in my introductory post for The Scratched Camera, it is my firm belief that we each look upon characters, situations and events with our own baggage and beliefs in mind.  If I am to go on this assumption, it seems only fair that I provide potential readers of my blog a small window into the baggage I bring to the table when I write each post. 

Through the duration of high school, I didn’t necessarily feel accepted by my family.  I always felt like I was a bit on the outskirts of the situation, just a little too quirky, nerdy and weird to fit their description of their ideal daughter. 

As such, I turned to writing. I started writing fan fiction at the ripe young age of fifteen.  Fan fiction, in case you are unaware, is, very simply, fiction written by the fans of an existing book, television show, movie, universe—whatever really.  Fan fiction allows obsessed avid fans, such as myself, to continue the story on where it left off, or change it to suit our needs.  It’s a creative outlet for an active imagination, although some author’s have called it copyright homicide.  I don’t think I’m allowed to have quite that strong of a view on the subject, as if it weren’t for fan fiction, I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.  I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

My focus was solely on those of Dramione fan fictions—the pairing of Hermione and Draco, for those of you not in the know. It was so clear to me—the comfort of having characters I was already very familiar with, and yet the freedom to take those characters in whatever direction I so pleased.  It was really what allowed me to feel confident enough to even start writing. 

I had a close group of friends in high school.  They were the victims I turned to as beta-readers.  They encouraged me—told me that my writing was unique enough that I should perhaps ponder taking it to another level.  The very prospect of doing so terrified me, though.  The responsibility of creating an entire universe and an accompanying set of characters tolerable enough for an audience to get behind had me shaking in my metaphorical boots (truly, I was always more for Chuck Taylors). 

However, with their encouragement, it didn’t take me long to graduate from fan fiction to actual novel writing.  I knew I had no talent for poetry, it just wasn’t in my blood—the very thought of a poem put a bad taste in my mouth.  Novels, however, that was a concept I could get behind.  Sure, I was still horrified at the thought.  But, if they thought I could do it, it was at least worth a shot. 

But, one of the hardest things about finally having the drive to complete a novel is typically that determination isn’t accompanied by a brilliant novel-worthy idea.  I researched the genre of my choice—young adult fiction; read as many novels that made up the genre as I could stand to.  I sorted out the widespread tropes and stereotypes, observed the typical pitfalls and successes.  But, in particular, I observed the vast array of female heroines.  I knew I wanted my main character to be female and strong—but how exactly should we define strong?  I knew from my previous over-exposure to television, movies, books and popular culture in general, that the key was to insure she wasn’t just physically strong; she needed a backbone too.  This research—ever on-going—is what set the basis for the rating systems I employ on this very blog.  It took a mere few young adult series to tell me that two key aspects were required to build a solid foundation for a female heroine.  The first was fairly obvious to me early on—the character needed to be relatable.  Even if the character was off doing otherworldly things, the reader needed to be able to relate to them on some basic level. 

The second aspect is possibly even more important than an ability to relate to the general public.  The reading of the Twilight series—long before there was even a mutter of team Edward versus team Jacob—made this trait clear to me.  The character needed to be a good role model.  As Twilight grew in popularity, this only became clearer to me.  But the mere determination of must make Bella’s foil didn’t get me very far.  I wanted a character full of complexities, a character willing to stand up for herself, but who still had insecurities and doubts and desires. 

This, of course, presents a daunting project, one I only barely touched the surface of with my first heroine, although fifteen year old me would punch me in the face for such blasphemy.  The concept of a strong female heroine is a complicated idea, one I still don’t fully comprehend.  However, spending the last year and a half as an English teacher to my ideal demographic gave me an excellent idea of what teenager’s need to see; the influence of such can be seen in my second heroine, who, if it’s possible, I actually like quite a bit more than the first. 

After researching, brainstorming and plotting and planning to no avail, one night, while watching Jeopardy of all things, an idea struck me.  I started writing it the next day and within the week I had my first draft of a novel completed.  I was still fifteen at the time. 

That very novel, albeit post endless rounds of revision and one pretty hefty rewrite, is the novel I am currently in the process of getting published.  I’m proud of the book and the two sequels that follow it.  It will always hold a special place in my heart.

I continued to work on the set—my Drew Embers series—as I entered college, developing the story in the hopes of finding enough plot to fill out a trilogy.  College was an interesting period in my life.  I lost a lot—to the point where there were times when I didn’t know how I could possibly carry on.  A very dear friend—a friend I’d had for nearly a decade at the time—betrayed me, taking almost every friend I had gained on my college campus in the process.  I’ve never felt so entirely threadbare in my entire life.  It wasn’t even that I felt undervalued—the deception left me feeling like I had no value to be underestimated.

A few months later I was in a car accident that flipped my car upside down.  There’s something incredibly paralyzing about closing your eyes to one sight and opening them from a bat’s view.  But that can’t hold a candle to kicking out your own window as a means to escape.  They told me I was lucky to survive the crash, prompting the paramedics to attempt to persuade me to go to the hospital.  I refused, as I only had the smallest scratch across the top of my chest from the clenched seat belt. 

Needless to say, the first half of my sophomore year of college did not pass quietly.  I wouldn’t have previously considered myself a naïve person, but the sheer jolt provided by the events of those few months served to convince me otherwise, as they actively sought to strip me of any slight lingering inclination toward the adolescent way of thinking. 

I hated it at the time; I thought I was being punished for some unknown horrible deed on my part.  It took me a long time to realize there was no punishment involved—it was merely the process of growing up.  While I feel assured the nineteen year old version of me never thought I’d say this, I’m glad I suffered through the hardships.  It is true what they say—what doesn’t kill you will certainly make you stronger. 

You can see the influence of these events on the second and third book in Drew Embers.  They handle slightly more somber concepts; the characters develop darker sides as they are pressed to make difficult decisions, face opponents who have little to no conscience. 

Where the latter books in the Drew Embers trilogy showcase the hardened mindset I found myself in for a good part of my college career, my newest novel, The House of Dormiens, completed over the course of last summer, exhibits the available paths to take when someone finds themselves in a hole, such as the one I had buried myself in.  Two main characters have suffered hardships—one has chosen to bask in their misery and continues to dig themselves deeper into their hole.  The other, who has actually struggled far worse turmoil than the former, has managed to claw themselves to the surface and inhale a deep lung-full of fresh air. My goal with The House of Dormiens is to show that it is just that—a choice. 

When I wrote Drew Embers, I was still a teenager.  The series was completed before I could legally drink.  And you can tell from the very first page.  I adore the story, I truly do.  But it lacks the complexities of The House of Dormiens.  Every aspect of HoD is divinely more detailed—plot, characters, events, settings.  The novel has more of an even-tempered feel to it.  I can look at the two and see just how much I’ve grown as a writer, as a person.  If that isn’t something to be proud of, I’m not sure what is. 

For general information on this blog and how it came to be, check out the introductory post.
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