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Re: Andy describes how he passes himself off as an "expert" & admits to conning people
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)Abignale is best known for having been played by Leonardo DiCaprio in the (frankly excellent) movie "Catch Me If You Can." I wouldn't be surprised at all to hear Andy has studied his memoir (or at least watched the movie a few times) to perfect his own act.
Re: Andy describes how he passes himself off as an "expert" & admits to conning people
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)SA
*Abagnale
I would also note that while Andy of course fancies he and Abagnale have a lot in common, Frank actually went on to make something of himself and is responsible for a lot of the anti-fraud measures built into paper checks over the past few decades. I've gotten a lot out of his books on detecting financial fraud (unsurprisingly, the kinds of people who pass bad checks and the kinds of people who use and manipulate other people have quite a bit in common).
*Abagnale
I would also note that while Andy of course fancies he and Abagnale have a lot in common, Frank actually went on to make something of himself and is responsible for a lot of the anti-fraud measures built into paper checks over the past few decades. I've gotten a lot out of his books on detecting financial fraud (unsurprisingly, the kinds of people who pass bad checks and the kinds of people who use and manipulate other people have quite a bit in common).
Andy compares himself to Frank Abignale, but says he DOESN'T behave like him
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)Funny you should mention that, anon.
I'll post this here for archiving, but any more discussion should probably happen in the main post so we don't clutter things up:
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/14008743022/i-could-if-i-wanted-to-i-choose-not-to
[Image description: Pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio portraying Abignale]
I could if I wanted to. I choose not to.
I'll post this here for archiving, but any more discussion should probably happen in the main post so we don't clutter things up:
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/14008743022/i-could-if-i-wanted-to-i-choose-not-to
[Image description: Pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio portraying Abignale]
I could if I wanted to. I choose not to.
Andy admits he blamed his real sister for his abuse of others
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/113659970612/winjennster-just-told-everyone-you-blamed-your
Winjennster just told everyone you blamed your real sister for what you did as Amy Player, then when she found out [sister's] real name, you lied and said Amy was her middle name. So much for you "mental illness" excuse. You expect us to believe you're so crazy you don't know your sister's name? Jenn asked your mom about it and she confirmed YOU were Amy, not [sister's name], so good job on botching that bullshit story.
No, I knew damned well my sister’s name. I lied, and it was one of the biggest specific I-can-point-to-that turning points since I started therapy. When I was first confronted about the stuff about my past online, I panicked. I had a group of friends that I valued hugely and who only knew me as Andy, and I felt like I would rather shove hot coals up my nostrils than have them know I was AFAB, much less the stuff I’d done. I still loathed myself for the former and hadn’t even begun to forgive myself for the latter, and I felt like if they knew, they’d be disgusted by me on multiple levels and walk away. So as I said, I panicked and I told a stupid, ridiculous lie to try to make it go away.
It (obviously) didn’t work and (in hindsight just as obviously) backfired, and I almost lost all my friends, but their reactions were a huge eye-opener. They really, truly, honestly didn’t give a shit about the things I was afraid they would, still knew I was 100% a guy, and were only upset that I’d lied. So I came clean about that and a lot of other shit, and a few months later was able to gather up and do it in public as well…and again, the general reaction mirrored what theirs had been. Sometimes, you face your fears - even if you have to be dragged to it kicking and screaming - and not only are they not so bad, you discover you’ve been doing 3000% more damage to yourself and others out of your fear of them.
Not all of that damage was reparable, but as I said, it was a turning point (one of several but one of the biggest, because lying and feeling like I had to hide who I was in so many ways had been SO MUCH a part of my life for so long that it was damned near reflexive), and for the past fourteen months since I got called out on that and had to face the music, it’s been a sometimes scarier but much better place on all possible counts to own who I was and has helped me not continue the destructive patterns. Ironically, I was clinging to a lot of the same patterns that had made me the person I was so ashamed of out of shame at having been that person, but although recovery isn’t a “wake up and suddenly you’re totally better” thing, I’m definitely leaving that person behind more every day.
Winjennster just told everyone you blamed your real sister for what you did as Amy Player, then when she found out [sister's] real name, you lied and said Amy was her middle name. So much for you "mental illness" excuse. You expect us to believe you're so crazy you don't know your sister's name? Jenn asked your mom about it and she confirmed YOU were Amy, not [sister's name], so good job on botching that bullshit story.
No, I knew damned well my sister’s name. I lied, and it was one of the biggest specific I-can-point-to-that turning points since I started therapy. When I was first confronted about the stuff about my past online, I panicked. I had a group of friends that I valued hugely and who only knew me as Andy, and I felt like I would rather shove hot coals up my nostrils than have them know I was AFAB, much less the stuff I’d done. I still loathed myself for the former and hadn’t even begun to forgive myself for the latter, and I felt like if they knew, they’d be disgusted by me on multiple levels and walk away. So as I said, I panicked and I told a stupid, ridiculous lie to try to make it go away.
It (obviously) didn’t work and (in hindsight just as obviously) backfired, and I almost lost all my friends, but their reactions were a huge eye-opener. They really, truly, honestly didn’t give a shit about the things I was afraid they would, still knew I was 100% a guy, and were only upset that I’d lied. So I came clean about that and a lot of other shit, and a few months later was able to gather up and do it in public as well…and again, the general reaction mirrored what theirs had been. Sometimes, you face your fears - even if you have to be dragged to it kicking and screaming - and not only are they not so bad, you discover you’ve been doing 3000% more damage to yourself and others out of your fear of them.
Not all of that damage was reparable, but as I said, it was a turning point (one of several but one of the biggest, because lying and feeling like I had to hide who I was in so many ways had been SO MUCH a part of my life for so long that it was damned near reflexive), and for the past fourteen months since I got called out on that and had to face the music, it’s been a sometimes scarier but much better place on all possible counts to own who I was and has helped me not continue the destructive patterns. Ironically, I was clinging to a lot of the same patterns that had made me the person I was so ashamed of out of shame at having been that person, but although recovery isn’t a “wake up and suddenly you’re totally better” thing, I’m definitely leaving that person behind more every day.
Re: Andy compares himself to Frank Abignale, but says he DOESN'T behave like him
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)He posted that right around the time he was bringing up Abignale with me on Facebook.
~Carlanime
~Carlanime
Re: Andy compares himself to Frank Abignale, but says he DOESN'T behave like him
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)No, sorry, it was an LJ message.
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 10:41
Andrew Blake
So, now that you've spent a week behind the curtain on my Facebook, Tumblr, and Livejournal and seen the super secret inner workings of the koolaid drinking goosestepping absolute control brainwash cult of the Daydians, has it lived up to your expectations, or have I sadly disappointed you with my criminal mastermindedry?
Carla [redacted]
15/11/2011 10:51
Carla [redacted]
Your criminal mastermindery, alas, is NOT up to the heights I'd been led to suspect. Not only that, but you have completely failed to attempt to brainwash me or induct me into a sinister cult. Tsk, tsk. (Unless you're being evil and culty on Tumblr, which I freely admit I forget to log into most days, but I won't get my hopes up. :P
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:03
Andrew Blake
Where do you stand so far on wanting to know more of the Great Saga from my side?
Carla [redacted]
15/11/2011 11:10
Carla [redacted]
Well, I'm dithering about asking you about money. On the one hand, that seems incredibly rude; on the other, I've worked out logically that you CAN'T owe Turi "tens of thousands" of dollars (yes, I've seen that actual phrase bandied about), so I'm somewhat curious as to what the other side of that whole...thing is.
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:18
Andrew Blake
Check your email (the one listed on your Facebook) and we'll start there. It's not the money parts, but it gives you the framework, and I am more than happy to answer money questions...those are actually the ridiculously easy ones.
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:46
Andrew Blake
Sent it a while ago. Awaiting your reply and questions.
(And no, it is not to be discussed with Cfc or the other Daydians, if you'd please)
15/11/2011 10:41
Andrew Blake
So, now that you've spent a week behind the curtain on my Facebook, Tumblr, and Livejournal and seen the super secret inner workings of the koolaid drinking goosestepping absolute control brainwash cult of the Daydians, has it lived up to your expectations, or have I sadly disappointed you with my criminal mastermindedry?
Carla [redacted]
15/11/2011 10:51
Carla [redacted]
Your criminal mastermindery, alas, is NOT up to the heights I'd been led to suspect. Not only that, but you have completely failed to attempt to brainwash me or induct me into a sinister cult. Tsk, tsk. (Unless you're being evil and culty on Tumblr, which I freely admit I forget to log into most days, but I won't get my hopes up. :P
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:03
Andrew Blake
Where do you stand so far on wanting to know more of the Great Saga from my side?
Carla [redacted]
15/11/2011 11:10
Carla [redacted]
Well, I'm dithering about asking you about money. On the one hand, that seems incredibly rude; on the other, I've worked out logically that you CAN'T owe Turi "tens of thousands" of dollars (yes, I've seen that actual phrase bandied about), so I'm somewhat curious as to what the other side of that whole...thing is.
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:18
Andrew Blake
Check your email (the one listed on your Facebook) and we'll start there. It's not the money parts, but it gives you the framework, and I am more than happy to answer money questions...those are actually the ridiculously easy ones.
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 11:46
Andrew Blake
Sent it a while ago. Awaiting your reply and questions.
(And no, it is not to be discussed with Cfc or the other Daydians, if you'd please)
1/2011 13:18
Andrew Blake
Thank you. I admit that there is a certain amount of hostility towards Abbey, but it's mostly based in WTF. As in WTF kind of 23 year old woman with a degree in psychology and gender studies meets a 17 year old kid like that and instead of trying to get them help, starts an affair with them, moves them out to live with her, cuts them off from family and friends, helps them fake their death, demands he make all her dreams come true, then abandons him completely after 7 years with 25K in her debt, sends him letters and packages promising she still loves him if he'll work hard enough, then dumps him utterly and two years later turns him in to a woman whom she knows has a deranged vendetta only loosely based in reality and thinks he's the antichrist?
Carla
15/11/2011 13:50
Carla
And now for something COMPLETELY different: I can't figure out how to reply on Tumblr, but what DO you charge for commissions, and how do you accept payment? (I mean: paypal, or something else?) And roughly what would it cost to ship something to Canada?
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 13:55
Andrew Blake
My rates depend on medium and style, but vary between $10-$300 per figure (with digital black and white line art on the low end and oil paint on the high end) unless you're looking at the 25, 50, or 80% off sales I have going on right now. To ship, it needs to be manual, not digital, and the rates are whatever the client wants it shipped (insured, super-protected certified overnight vs standard first class mail for example). You can look up prices for your preferred shipping method on usps.com, ups.com, or fedex.com
Did I mention thank you for being a decent human being about all this? Because there are too, too few of them.
Carla
15/11/2011 14:05
Carla
You're welcome, really. You seem like someone I'd like; I can barely be arsed to bash people I hate, so I'm certainly not going to be harsh to anyone I might sort of like.
Andrew Blake
Thank you. I admit that there is a certain amount of hostility towards Abbey, but it's mostly based in WTF. As in WTF kind of 23 year old woman with a degree in psychology and gender studies meets a 17 year old kid like that and instead of trying to get them help, starts an affair with them, moves them out to live with her, cuts them off from family and friends, helps them fake their death, demands he make all her dreams come true, then abandons him completely after 7 years with 25K in her debt, sends him letters and packages promising she still loves him if he'll work hard enough, then dumps him utterly and two years later turns him in to a woman whom she knows has a deranged vendetta only loosely based in reality and thinks he's the antichrist?
Carla
15/11/2011 13:50
Carla
And now for something COMPLETELY different: I can't figure out how to reply on Tumblr, but what DO you charge for commissions, and how do you accept payment? (I mean: paypal, or something else?) And roughly what would it cost to ship something to Canada?
Andrew Blake
15/11/2011 13:55
Andrew Blake
My rates depend on medium and style, but vary between $10-$300 per figure (with digital black and white line art on the low end and oil paint on the high end) unless you're looking at the 25, 50, or 80% off sales I have going on right now. To ship, it needs to be manual, not digital, and the rates are whatever the client wants it shipped (insured, super-protected certified overnight vs standard first class mail for example). You can look up prices for your preferred shipping method on usps.com, ups.com, or fedex.com
Did I mention thank you for being a decent human being about all this? Because there are too, too few of them.
Carla
15/11/2011 14:05
Carla
You're welcome, really. You seem like someone I'd like; I can barely be arsed to bash people I hate, so I'm certainly not going to be harsh to anyone I might sort of like.
[These ones were in reference to a character that I had loosely based off Andy, and which he painted for me. I've taken out a few of my replies; they're mostly just me thanking him, saying yes I'd like to hear that, etc.
In retrospect, I think he was setting bait I was failing to pick up... ~C]
Andrew Blake
Ok. The contact lenses statement threw me.
Is the build right, or do I need to tweak that? It's one thing to see it in sketch, another as it's coming together in paint.
Carla
05/12/2011 08:00
Carla
The build looks good. I've always seen him as in good shape, but not the kind of person who works out--more the kind who might do hiking or rockclimbing, but not "going to a gym and lifting weights," ever, unless he had some specific reason to bulk up for a particular scheme--so that looks good.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:00
Andrew Blake
Gotcha. Starting painting now.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:03
Andrew Blake
BTW, I take it this is the character you loosely based off of the fandom perception of me? How far along are you/how interested in getting more info on some of the actual practicalities of trying to live with unusual abilities/disabilities of the paranormal nature, and/or living quasi-off the grid?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:08
Andrew Blake
I figured you've never exactly lived either outside "the system" nor in any kind of a life where you have to think on your feet to the extent of trying to hide something like that. Give me what you have of the mechanics/rules of this character that are necessary for your story/already set in stone, and I'll give you the "ok, this is how it would work" version. Sort of like telling a military consultant "this is the team I have and this is the terrain, and we need to rescue the damsel from there, how do I write my assault?"
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:48
Andrew Blake
Ok, three biggest questions first: has he actually done/does he actually do anything wrong? In other words, is he really a conman? And if so, how/why? (Because if he actually CAN contact dead grandma, he's not a con artist if that's what they're paying for, no matter how much showmanship or how much he charges. And if he COULD contact dead grandma but CAN'T, why the fuck doesn't he and how do you expect readers to forgive that?) Second, how famous is he? Third; resources?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:28
Andrew Blake
The bottom line is that for an innocent person to not fight back, they have to have something they're afraid of, and you haven't given him motive enough for that. Likewise, for someone to not take an opportunity in front of them, there has to be a good reason (I'm embarrassed about my parents wouldn't cut it if HE is legit) and for someone to have something incredible and not the power that accompanies it, there has to be a reason.
Regardless of what the actual capabilities of forensics, your readership reads mystery novels and watches CSI. Unless you're going to go to incredible lengths to really, REALLY frame him, just "seen leaving his room" doesn't nail you any more.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:29
Andrew Blake
We can keep him innocent, but the "Turi" character is exactly your saving grace here. If I may...?
Carla
05/12/2011 09:29
Carla
Yes?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:34
Andrew Blake
Let's say he's grown up with these shyster parents, but they're struggling more and more as the carnival dies and the internet grows, and he's always hidden that he's the real deal because he doesn't want to be used by them and is ashamed of what they do. There is a "last straw" moment when they really, really take someone to the cleaners who can't afford it...like an old person or a single mother or someone mentally disabled. He runs away - takes the sister or not, it's up to you - but he quickly finds out he has no marketable skills or educational credentials - as a carnie kid, he's been loosely homeschooled - and after failing to even get hired at WalMart and completely out of money, he starts quietly selling his gift, though he doesn't have the resources to do the flash and dazzle at first, and he's careful to keep it completely above-board. Because he IS the real deal, he starts to make enough money to survive, but because he's not willing to promote or push for fear of Being Like Them, it's not much more than that.
(to be continued after I pee....)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:41
Andrew Blake
Word of mouth, he gets referred to someone who is basically a BNF - they've got a good-sized blog, they're upper middle class, they have a respected occupation such as doctor or lawyer, but they're not in a position of Actual Power like a police officer or senator - and that person is both very skeptical and very desperate to find out something about their recently deceased parent. They're also, when they meet the teens, VERY into the sister, but again, still skeptical. Money is BAD at the moment, as it's just before the holidays and no one is spending on readings, and Our Hero gives a small reading of a lesser dead relative that knocks the socks off BNF. BNF is amazed, and not only are their hopes of finding out the Thing They Need To Know through the roof, they get sudden stars in their eyes that This Kid Is Gonna Be Huge...and they want to be Colonel Parker to this Elvis. Also, the idea of Making Your Brother The Success He Deserves To Be is getting him what he at least sees as headway with the sister. They throw every bit of their BNF status and a sizable but not devastating amount of money ($3,000-10,000 maybe?) into a big live event with TV and webcast and all the media coverage they can, basically putting together a combination reading/press conference. Our Hero is incredibly uncomfortable with it, especially when the professionals brought in for the event are setting up a lot of very familiar trappings, but broke is broke is I will not be telling my sister we're spending Christmas in a homeless shelter.
(tbc)
In retrospect, I think he was setting bait I was failing to pick up... ~C]
Andrew Blake
Ok. The contact lenses statement threw me.
Is the build right, or do I need to tweak that? It's one thing to see it in sketch, another as it's coming together in paint.
Carla
05/12/2011 08:00
Carla
The build looks good. I've always seen him as in good shape, but not the kind of person who works out--more the kind who might do hiking or rockclimbing, but not "going to a gym and lifting weights," ever, unless he had some specific reason to bulk up for a particular scheme--so that looks good.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:00
Andrew Blake
Gotcha. Starting painting now.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:03
Andrew Blake
BTW, I take it this is the character you loosely based off of the fandom perception of me? How far along are you/how interested in getting more info on some of the actual practicalities of trying to live with unusual abilities/disabilities of the paranormal nature, and/or living quasi-off the grid?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:08
Andrew Blake
I figured you've never exactly lived either outside "the system" nor in any kind of a life where you have to think on your feet to the extent of trying to hide something like that. Give me what you have of the mechanics/rules of this character that are necessary for your story/already set in stone, and I'll give you the "ok, this is how it would work" version. Sort of like telling a military consultant "this is the team I have and this is the terrain, and we need to rescue the damsel from there, how do I write my assault?"
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 08:48
Andrew Blake
Ok, three biggest questions first: has he actually done/does he actually do anything wrong? In other words, is he really a conman? And if so, how/why? (Because if he actually CAN contact dead grandma, he's not a con artist if that's what they're paying for, no matter how much showmanship or how much he charges. And if he COULD contact dead grandma but CAN'T, why the fuck doesn't he and how do you expect readers to forgive that?) Second, how famous is he? Third; resources?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:28
Andrew Blake
The bottom line is that for an innocent person to not fight back, they have to have something they're afraid of, and you haven't given him motive enough for that. Likewise, for someone to not take an opportunity in front of them, there has to be a good reason (I'm embarrassed about my parents wouldn't cut it if HE is legit) and for someone to have something incredible and not the power that accompanies it, there has to be a reason.
Regardless of what the actual capabilities of forensics, your readership reads mystery novels and watches CSI. Unless you're going to go to incredible lengths to really, REALLY frame him, just "seen leaving his room" doesn't nail you any more.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:29
Andrew Blake
We can keep him innocent, but the "Turi" character is exactly your saving grace here. If I may...?
Carla
05/12/2011 09:29
Carla
Yes?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:34
Andrew Blake
Let's say he's grown up with these shyster parents, but they're struggling more and more as the carnival dies and the internet grows, and he's always hidden that he's the real deal because he doesn't want to be used by them and is ashamed of what they do. There is a "last straw" moment when they really, really take someone to the cleaners who can't afford it...like an old person or a single mother or someone mentally disabled. He runs away - takes the sister or not, it's up to you - but he quickly finds out he has no marketable skills or educational credentials - as a carnie kid, he's been loosely homeschooled - and after failing to even get hired at WalMart and completely out of money, he starts quietly selling his gift, though he doesn't have the resources to do the flash and dazzle at first, and he's careful to keep it completely above-board. Because he IS the real deal, he starts to make enough money to survive, but because he's not willing to promote or push for fear of Being Like Them, it's not much more than that.
(to be continued after I pee....)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:41
Andrew Blake
Word of mouth, he gets referred to someone who is basically a BNF - they've got a good-sized blog, they're upper middle class, they have a respected occupation such as doctor or lawyer, but they're not in a position of Actual Power like a police officer or senator - and that person is both very skeptical and very desperate to find out something about their recently deceased parent. They're also, when they meet the teens, VERY into the sister, but again, still skeptical. Money is BAD at the moment, as it's just before the holidays and no one is spending on readings, and Our Hero gives a small reading of a lesser dead relative that knocks the socks off BNF. BNF is amazed, and not only are their hopes of finding out the Thing They Need To Know through the roof, they get sudden stars in their eyes that This Kid Is Gonna Be Huge...and they want to be Colonel Parker to this Elvis. Also, the idea of Making Your Brother The Success He Deserves To Be is getting him what he at least sees as headway with the sister. They throw every bit of their BNF status and a sizable but not devastating amount of money ($3,000-10,000 maybe?) into a big live event with TV and webcast and all the media coverage they can, basically putting together a combination reading/press conference. Our Hero is incredibly uncomfortable with it, especially when the professionals brought in for the event are setting up a lot of very familiar trappings, but broke is broke is I will not be telling my sister we're spending Christmas in a homeless shelter.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:47
Andrew Blake
Now, when he does this, it can range from it sounds like voices in another room all the way to they basically take him over. Regrettably, this winds up being the latter, and hoo boy, does he EVER get in touch with Dead Mommy. Except it goes horribly, horribly wrong. Dead Mommy does not do the standard John Edwards "I love you, baby, and just want you to move on and live your life and take care of yourself." She reams him out for all manner of terrible dark secrets, up to an including that he's had a hidden camera (the siblings have been staying at his house while things are set up) and filming the sister in the shower. She tells him she's disgusted and ashamed of him, no, she won't tell him where the XYZ is, and she only wishes she'd gotten around to changing her will. And then our hero is back, and the BNF is staring at him with a very bad look on his face as the entire audience gapes in shock.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:49
Andrew Blake
Basically, he has two choices with everyone watching and everything on the line: burst into tears and say "yes, it's all true," or scream IT'S A SCAM YOU MONSTER HOW DARE YOU LIE LIKE THAT! And the thing is, even as he knows he's protecting his ass, he makes himself believe it because either this asshole kid found out his darkest secrets and shamed him with them because he's a monstrous con artist who gets his kicks hurting people...or his mother really did feel that way about him.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:00
Andrew Blake
He goes Full Turimel - the self-published "expose" book, the media tour, the whole nine yards, but bump it up to a bigger audience for dramatic effect. With the history of seance scams, the parents, embellishment, and putting the worst possible spin on everything, he paints Our Hero as a psycopathic fraud preying on the grieving and borders on stalker in trying to ruin his life/prevent him from having one/get him arrested (when the cops say he's not done anything wrong, the cops, of course, are lazy incompetents again ala Turi). His name, in short, is mud, and when he DOES try to change it, there's huge stink made that he's trying to run and re-establish his Big Scam. The cam, he insists, was put there by the sister to make money at amateur porn (while in the decent hospitality of his home, the horror!) and he uploads the footage to an amateur porn site to bolster this. Our Hero tries to head down push through just ignore it in the security that he isn't what they say he is, but the sister is more affected, and when BNF comes to her workplace (she's gotten a job as a nanny) and gets her fired as a Porn Star (and then tries to convince her that it can all stop if she leaves Evil Brother, stops Perpetrating The Con, and moves in with BNF as his girlfriend), she attempts suicide and winds up committed to a mental hospital.
(tbc)
05/12/2011 09:47
Andrew Blake
Now, when he does this, it can range from it sounds like voices in another room all the way to they basically take him over. Regrettably, this winds up being the latter, and hoo boy, does he EVER get in touch with Dead Mommy. Except it goes horribly, horribly wrong. Dead Mommy does not do the standard John Edwards "I love you, baby, and just want you to move on and live your life and take care of yourself." She reams him out for all manner of terrible dark secrets, up to an including that he's had a hidden camera (the siblings have been staying at his house while things are set up) and filming the sister in the shower. She tells him she's disgusted and ashamed of him, no, she won't tell him where the XYZ is, and she only wishes she'd gotten around to changing her will. And then our hero is back, and the BNF is staring at him with a very bad look on his face as the entire audience gapes in shock.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 09:49
Andrew Blake
Basically, he has two choices with everyone watching and everything on the line: burst into tears and say "yes, it's all true," or scream IT'S A SCAM YOU MONSTER HOW DARE YOU LIE LIKE THAT! And the thing is, even as he knows he's protecting his ass, he makes himself believe it because either this asshole kid found out his darkest secrets and shamed him with them because he's a monstrous con artist who gets his kicks hurting people...or his mother really did feel that way about him.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:00
Andrew Blake
He goes Full Turimel - the self-published "expose" book, the media tour, the whole nine yards, but bump it up to a bigger audience for dramatic effect. With the history of seance scams, the parents, embellishment, and putting the worst possible spin on everything, he paints Our Hero as a psycopathic fraud preying on the grieving and borders on stalker in trying to ruin his life/prevent him from having one/get him arrested (when the cops say he's not done anything wrong, the cops, of course, are lazy incompetents again ala Turi). His name, in short, is mud, and when he DOES try to change it, there's huge stink made that he's trying to run and re-establish his Big Scam. The cam, he insists, was put there by the sister to make money at amateur porn (while in the decent hospitality of his home, the horror!) and he uploads the footage to an amateur porn site to bolster this. Our Hero tries to head down push through just ignore it in the security that he isn't what they say he is, but the sister is more affected, and when BNF comes to her workplace (she's gotten a job as a nanny) and gets her fired as a Porn Star (and then tries to convince her that it can all stop if she leaves Evil Brother, stops Perpetrating The Con, and moves in with BNF as his girlfriend), she attempts suicide and winds up committed to a mental hospital.
(tbc)
Yet ANOTHER account, similar, but with embellished/different details
(Anonymous) 2015-04-16 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/45514769969/less-than-10-feet-away-now-i-thought-you-were
Let me draw you a diagram.
[image of house layout]
On the left are the stairs to the top floor of the house. Jason came up these. We did not hear him because he said nothing and moved quietly, and his truck had been parked some distance away so that we would not see him drive up. He had entered through the back downstairs door by the kitchen. The dog did not bark. It knew him. We were talking about what we wanted to do with our weekend. It was Saturday, May 7, 2011, noon. There was a farmer’s market coming up soon, the first one for the year in Napa. Brittany offered to make tea. I said sure. We were in the room you see on the lower right hand side of the diagram.
She went to the bathroom immediately adjacent our room that we shared with the handyman/other boarder who was living in the bedroom you see at the top righthand side of the diagram. I was sitting on the bed, using the computer. She turned on the tap in the bathroom to rinse the electric kettle.
There were two sharp bangs, not actually very loud. The house echoed oddly. There were no screams, no cries, no words. The children at the end of the cul de sac had fireworks a few days before. I thought they had bigger ones. I picked up my cell phone to call 9-1-1 and ask the police to come confiscate them before someone was hurt. I didn’t know it, but Brittany was already dead where you see the 1 on the diagram.
The other bedroom door opened. There were another half-dozen bangs in rapid succession. You will note the 2 on the diagram. He hadn’t been expected. Jason was getting rattled. It was overkill. Point blank from less than two feet away.
He heard me say “Hello” to the dispatcher. He entered my room. He held the gun in my face. There was eye contact. I held very, very still and kept the eye contact, looking at him hard. I thought that my only hope was to make him SEE ME. Make myself be a person to him. Make him look in my eyes. It was less than a foot away. He pulled the trigger. It jammed. Multiple times. He was holding it sideways, like a gangster in a music video. He shook it, looked down the barrel, left the room.
I jumped up, pushed Brittany’s massage table in front of the door, locked it, crouched down in the corner where you see the 3. He got angry. I was on the phone with the police. He screamed things. He fired through the door. The bullet ricocheted off the metal frame of the massage table. It hit me in the ankle. I didn’t feel it. I was on the phone with the dispatcher. It was 12:04. My phone said so. It seemed shorter and longer. He was yelling. I tried to adjust position. Slipped. Looked down. Saw blood. Told them I’d been shot. I didn’t know how many times, I thought probably only once, but I hadn’t felt that one.
There were two more shots.
There were no more shots. The SWAT team came. They yelled for him through loudspeakers, then broke into the house. I was still on the phone with 911. The dispatcher told me to move away from the door and stand in the middle of the room with my hands on the back of my head and the phone on speaker. I did. The SWAT team broke in. Cuffed me. Frisked me.
They lead me out into the hallway. I was having trouble keeping my footing. My ankle was weird and bleeding a lot. It was slick. The floors were hardwood. It still didn’t hurt. I saw Brittany. She was on her back, still holding the kettle. The tap was still running. Her chin was tilted back, there were medics. She wasn’t moving. All I could see of her head was the underside of her jaw. I have been told that was a good thing. She was wearing purple leopard fuzzy pajama pants, jelly-bean print panties from the Jelly Belly factory down the road, and a grey Henley with no bra. Her toenails were teal. So were mine. We’d gotten silly and painted them the night before. I kept mine until it all chipped off.
They moved me past her quickly. Maybe half a second. A SWAT officer blocked my view on purpose. I saw even less of the other victim. He was dead. I knew that. He had no medics. He had no chest. He was all over the walls and the door.
Jason was lying where you see the 4, sprawled across the top of the stairs. He was still alive. His chest was heaving. He was squirming. He was making noises like a broken whistle in a bag of jelly. He had no face. One of his teeth was sticking in the floor. They asked me to identify the shooter. Clothes. Beard. Gun. I verified them all. I wanted to step on him. On his twitching hurting face hole. But I didn’t want him on me, and they made me step over him.
They said he took twenty minutes to die. They say the others were dead before they hit the floor. I’m glad.
They took me outside. There were police, medics, press. I did what I was told. They checked my hands with some kind of swab and took me out of the cuffs. I couldn’t have my phone back. I was in my pajamas. I was bloody. The medic put a gauze pad on my ankle and taped it. It soaked through. They added another. It soaked through. They didn’t add any more. I went to the hospital, the police station, the hotel. I talked a lot, calmly, to official people, then got my phone back from the police and talked a lot, calmly, to all the people who weren’t next of kin who were in the phone numbers who the police wouldn’t call. Her friends. Her clients. Her godmother.
I can remember just fine.
Her birthday is this week. She would have been 29. She isn’t.
Let me draw you a diagram.
[image of house layout]
On the left are the stairs to the top floor of the house. Jason came up these. We did not hear him because he said nothing and moved quietly, and his truck had been parked some distance away so that we would not see him drive up. He had entered through the back downstairs door by the kitchen. The dog did not bark. It knew him. We were talking about what we wanted to do with our weekend. It was Saturday, May 7, 2011, noon. There was a farmer’s market coming up soon, the first one for the year in Napa. Brittany offered to make tea. I said sure. We were in the room you see on the lower right hand side of the diagram.
She went to the bathroom immediately adjacent our room that we shared with the handyman/other boarder who was living in the bedroom you see at the top righthand side of the diagram. I was sitting on the bed, using the computer. She turned on the tap in the bathroom to rinse the electric kettle.
There were two sharp bangs, not actually very loud. The house echoed oddly. There were no screams, no cries, no words. The children at the end of the cul de sac had fireworks a few days before. I thought they had bigger ones. I picked up my cell phone to call 9-1-1 and ask the police to come confiscate them before someone was hurt. I didn’t know it, but Brittany was already dead where you see the 1 on the diagram.
The other bedroom door opened. There were another half-dozen bangs in rapid succession. You will note the 2 on the diagram. He hadn’t been expected. Jason was getting rattled. It was overkill. Point blank from less than two feet away.
He heard me say “Hello” to the dispatcher. He entered my room. He held the gun in my face. There was eye contact. I held very, very still and kept the eye contact, looking at him hard. I thought that my only hope was to make him SEE ME. Make myself be a person to him. Make him look in my eyes. It was less than a foot away. He pulled the trigger. It jammed. Multiple times. He was holding it sideways, like a gangster in a music video. He shook it, looked down the barrel, left the room.
I jumped up, pushed Brittany’s massage table in front of the door, locked it, crouched down in the corner where you see the 3. He got angry. I was on the phone with the police. He screamed things. He fired through the door. The bullet ricocheted off the metal frame of the massage table. It hit me in the ankle. I didn’t feel it. I was on the phone with the dispatcher. It was 12:04. My phone said so. It seemed shorter and longer. He was yelling. I tried to adjust position. Slipped. Looked down. Saw blood. Told them I’d been shot. I didn’t know how many times, I thought probably only once, but I hadn’t felt that one.
There were two more shots.
There were no more shots. The SWAT team came. They yelled for him through loudspeakers, then broke into the house. I was still on the phone with 911. The dispatcher told me to move away from the door and stand in the middle of the room with my hands on the back of my head and the phone on speaker. I did. The SWAT team broke in. Cuffed me. Frisked me.
They lead me out into the hallway. I was having trouble keeping my footing. My ankle was weird and bleeding a lot. It was slick. The floors were hardwood. It still didn’t hurt. I saw Brittany. She was on her back, still holding the kettle. The tap was still running. Her chin was tilted back, there were medics. She wasn’t moving. All I could see of her head was the underside of her jaw. I have been told that was a good thing. She was wearing purple leopard fuzzy pajama pants, jelly-bean print panties from the Jelly Belly factory down the road, and a grey Henley with no bra. Her toenails were teal. So were mine. We’d gotten silly and painted them the night before. I kept mine until it all chipped off.
They moved me past her quickly. Maybe half a second. A SWAT officer blocked my view on purpose. I saw even less of the other victim. He was dead. I knew that. He had no medics. He had no chest. He was all over the walls and the door.
Jason was lying where you see the 4, sprawled across the top of the stairs. He was still alive. His chest was heaving. He was squirming. He was making noises like a broken whistle in a bag of jelly. He had no face. One of his teeth was sticking in the floor. They asked me to identify the shooter. Clothes. Beard. Gun. I verified them all. I wanted to step on him. On his twitching hurting face hole. But I didn’t want him on me, and they made me step over him.
They said he took twenty minutes to die. They say the others were dead before they hit the floor. I’m glad.
They took me outside. There were police, medics, press. I did what I was told. They checked my hands with some kind of swab and took me out of the cuffs. I couldn’t have my phone back. I was in my pajamas. I was bloody. The medic put a gauze pad on my ankle and taped it. It soaked through. They added another. It soaked through. They didn’t add any more. I went to the hospital, the police station, the hotel. I talked a lot, calmly, to official people, then got my phone back from the police and talked a lot, calmly, to all the people who weren’t next of kin who were in the phone numbers who the police wouldn’t call. Her friends. Her clients. Her godmother.
I can remember just fine.
Her birthday is this week. She would have been 29. She isn’t.
[More of his plot ideas for my book (which, as you can probably guess, hadn't started out ANYTHING like what he's suggesting here except for the psychic, the murder, and a guy with a grudge against the psychic.
By the way, this set and the one above are as is; I didn't have to remove any replies because I DIDN'T MAKE ANY and he still kept going. I could literally have been dead at the keyboard. ~C]
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:02
Andrew Blake
Even the suicide attempt is presented as more evidence of His Evil, much like I was blamed for Brittany's death. None of his old clients or friends will touch him, not sure what to believe and feeling fairly betrayed if he is in fact what it certainly seems he is. He's desperate, does wind up spending a couple of nights on the streets, and finally, he confides the WHOLE truth (complete with demonstration reading) to a childhood best friend who has a secret of his own.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:09
Andrew Blake
The best friend is secretly transgendered, but his father is a pastor of a very conservative church, and he's terrified of what would happen if he came out to his family. She (MtF) has a plan. She is supposed to be going to law school out of state starting in a month. If she takes part of the school fund, moves out, and starts the transition under her new name while he takes her old ID (the resemblance is passing enough in crappy ID photos) goes to a cheap community college, and sends occasional updates home, they can both make a new start of it. The idea is to make excuses for a year about coming home, and within 18 months if he takes a heavy course load, Our Hero will have an associate's degree, can have changed his name legally to that of the old childhood friend, and the old childhood friend can have gotten far enough in transition - including a name change of her own - that she can feel confident in going home long enough to say "I'm sorry, but this is who I am and I'm leaving now" and they can go their separate ways. The friend's birth name is generic enough (Like Michael Johnson or something) that it isn't even as if it'll be a big deal that now he carries the friend's old name, except the last place BNF will be looking for him is as a paralegal going to community college in Nowheresville.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:15
Andrew Blake
Our Hero takes her up on it, they make the switch, and he thinks things might be ok. Then he gets word from someone in BNF's inner circle who thinks BNF is going too far that BNF has managed to find him anyway and is on his way to town to "blow up the latest con." Our Hero goes to the hotel room to beg BNF to please, please just leave him alone, but it winds up a fight. Things are said about the sister, and Our Hero punches BNF out and leaves...with his fingerprints all over the room, witnesses in other rooms having heard a fight, BNF's blood on his shirt, and one hell of a motive when BNF is found dead by the maid the next morning. The cops investigate him at first, and are satisfied that he didn't do it because of security camera footage vs time of death and his level of cooperation, but the media have already picked up the story and to them, he's damned and the cops are continuing to let this monster walk free and play the system. He's also in deep trouble over the "Identity Theft," and when he DOES manage to plea-bargain that with a fine and an LGBT-friendly officer, it only furthers the appearance that he is a master manipulator who can slip out of any police trap, and his friend, horrified at having her secret exposed, turns her back on him utterly. Now he DOES have to use false identities and make money by whatever means necessary to survive, and when his new friend from BNF's inner circle is implicated in the murder, he feels obligated to find the real killer before one more life is ruined.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:15
Andrew Blake
Does that hold a little more water yet still work for your plot?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:21
Andrew Blake
And of course, the usual "medium can solve the case because he can talk to the dead guy" is moot here, because the dead guy hates his fucking guts and would love nothing more than to see him go to jail for the murder whether he committed it or not. Better yet if BNF didn't actually see who killed him and truly believes that Our Hero was the killer and is determined to haunt him for all eternity, so he's got that nasty ghostie hanging around while he tries to solve the ungrateful bastard's murder.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:34
Andrew Blake
And of course, things like "he lied about his parents!" who WERE con artists and WERE wanted in several states doesn't help, nor things like "he lied about having epilepsy!" (an excuse he used to explain his occasional 'zoning out' as petit mal seizures) etc. are just fodder for the Colonel, and it's those grains of truth about lies and cons that form the backbone of it. And it makes sense that he doesn't feel like he can really confront the Colonel in public because a) the cornerstone of his argument is a power most people automatically believe is of course a lie no matter how much proof he'd give, and the proof itself would just be screamed down because of course EVERYTHING HE SAYS IS A DAMNED DIRTY LIE, and even if he says the sky is blue, SEE, that's just PROOF what an AMAZING MASTER MANIPULATOR he is that you THINK it's blue when you look up when really it's just a trick of refracted light through the atmosphere, HA! CAUGHT HIM IN ANOTHER ONE!
By the way, this set and the one above are as is; I didn't have to remove any replies because I DIDN'T MAKE ANY and he still kept going. I could literally have been dead at the keyboard. ~C]
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:02
Andrew Blake
Even the suicide attempt is presented as more evidence of His Evil, much like I was blamed for Brittany's death. None of his old clients or friends will touch him, not sure what to believe and feeling fairly betrayed if he is in fact what it certainly seems he is. He's desperate, does wind up spending a couple of nights on the streets, and finally, he confides the WHOLE truth (complete with demonstration reading) to a childhood best friend who has a secret of his own.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:09
Andrew Blake
The best friend is secretly transgendered, but his father is a pastor of a very conservative church, and he's terrified of what would happen if he came out to his family. She (MtF) has a plan. She is supposed to be going to law school out of state starting in a month. If she takes part of the school fund, moves out, and starts the transition under her new name while he takes her old ID (the resemblance is passing enough in crappy ID photos) goes to a cheap community college, and sends occasional updates home, they can both make a new start of it. The idea is to make excuses for a year about coming home, and within 18 months if he takes a heavy course load, Our Hero will have an associate's degree, can have changed his name legally to that of the old childhood friend, and the old childhood friend can have gotten far enough in transition - including a name change of her own - that she can feel confident in going home long enough to say "I'm sorry, but this is who I am and I'm leaving now" and they can go their separate ways. The friend's birth name is generic enough (Like Michael Johnson or something) that it isn't even as if it'll be a big deal that now he carries the friend's old name, except the last place BNF will be looking for him is as a paralegal going to community college in Nowheresville.
(tbc)
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:15
Andrew Blake
Our Hero takes her up on it, they make the switch, and he thinks things might be ok. Then he gets word from someone in BNF's inner circle who thinks BNF is going too far that BNF has managed to find him anyway and is on his way to town to "blow up the latest con." Our Hero goes to the hotel room to beg BNF to please, please just leave him alone, but it winds up a fight. Things are said about the sister, and Our Hero punches BNF out and leaves...with his fingerprints all over the room, witnesses in other rooms having heard a fight, BNF's blood on his shirt, and one hell of a motive when BNF is found dead by the maid the next morning. The cops investigate him at first, and are satisfied that he didn't do it because of security camera footage vs time of death and his level of cooperation, but the media have already picked up the story and to them, he's damned and the cops are continuing to let this monster walk free and play the system. He's also in deep trouble over the "Identity Theft," and when he DOES manage to plea-bargain that with a fine and an LGBT-friendly officer, it only furthers the appearance that he is a master manipulator who can slip out of any police trap, and his friend, horrified at having her secret exposed, turns her back on him utterly. Now he DOES have to use false identities and make money by whatever means necessary to survive, and when his new friend from BNF's inner circle is implicated in the murder, he feels obligated to find the real killer before one more life is ruined.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:15
Andrew Blake
Does that hold a little more water yet still work for your plot?
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:21
Andrew Blake
And of course, the usual "medium can solve the case because he can talk to the dead guy" is moot here, because the dead guy hates his fucking guts and would love nothing more than to see him go to jail for the murder whether he committed it or not. Better yet if BNF didn't actually see who killed him and truly believes that Our Hero was the killer and is determined to haunt him for all eternity, so he's got that nasty ghostie hanging around while he tries to solve the ungrateful bastard's murder.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:34
Andrew Blake
And of course, things like "he lied about his parents!" who WERE con artists and WERE wanted in several states doesn't help, nor things like "he lied about having epilepsy!" (an excuse he used to explain his occasional 'zoning out' as petit mal seizures) etc. are just fodder for the Colonel, and it's those grains of truth about lies and cons that form the backbone of it. And it makes sense that he doesn't feel like he can really confront the Colonel in public because a) the cornerstone of his argument is a power most people automatically believe is of course a lie no matter how much proof he'd give, and the proof itself would just be screamed down because of course EVERYTHING HE SAYS IS A DAMNED DIRTY LIE, and even if he says the sky is blue, SEE, that's just PROOF what an AMAZING MASTER MANIPULATOR he is that you THINK it's blue when you look up when really it's just a trick of refracted light through the atmosphere, HA! CAUGHT HIM IN ANOTHER ONE!
[I thanked him, assured him I didn't mind acknowledging him in spite of his detractors, and this was the final message of that conversation, which suddenly veered off in a completely different direction. I'm redacting two names. You'll see why. ~C]
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:48
Andrew Blake
Though if you don't mind a little flak for something that stays fully within fandom and LJ - vs what I am assuming is going to be a published book that you don't want that kind of attention drawn to - I would be very grateful for a "hey, if anyone wants art, he's fast, his prices are reasonable, he NEEDS the money badly, and it's not like this shit can be 'photoshop trickery' when I have WIP photos of it being done by hand" shoutout.
For the book, I'd be fine with just a "Special thanks to A. for untangling some plot holes" or something like that.
Actually, ironically, I damned near dragged [redacted] by the hair to Planned Parenthood (you'll note they're one of our sponsors) and got her on birth control before the hike even started. She was insisting she didn't even LIKE [redacted] and that she was a virgin, I was insisting they were going to be spending two months in a tent and would either hate each other or be fucking by the end of it.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:48
Andrew Blake
I've got her patch renewals programmed into my phone so I can remind her.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:50
Andrew Blake
I also headdesked a hole in a wall when they said they wanted to swing by Vegas and get married on the way back, but I put being supportive of friends over being right and at least tried to help them make sure the paperwork got done properly, even as I tried to suggest all manner of awesome wedding ideas in the hopes that it would make [redacted] want to wait.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:50
Andrew Blake
But young and In Love is its own special kind of headstrong.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:48
Andrew Blake
Though if you don't mind a little flak for something that stays fully within fandom and LJ - vs what I am assuming is going to be a published book that you don't want that kind of attention drawn to - I would be very grateful for a "hey, if anyone wants art, he's fast, his prices are reasonable, he NEEDS the money badly, and it's not like this shit can be 'photoshop trickery' when I have WIP photos of it being done by hand" shoutout.
For the book, I'd be fine with just a "Special thanks to A. for untangling some plot holes" or something like that.
Actually, ironically, I damned near dragged [redacted] by the hair to Planned Parenthood (you'll note they're one of our sponsors) and got her on birth control before the hike even started. She was insisting she didn't even LIKE [redacted] and that she was a virgin, I was insisting they were going to be spending two months in a tent and would either hate each other or be fucking by the end of it.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:48
Andrew Blake
I've got her patch renewals programmed into my phone so I can remind her.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:50
Andrew Blake
I also headdesked a hole in a wall when they said they wanted to swing by Vegas and get married on the way back, but I put being supportive of friends over being right and at least tried to help them make sure the paperwork got done properly, even as I tried to suggest all manner of awesome wedding ideas in the hopes that it would make [redacted] want to wait.
Andrew Blake
05/12/2011 10:50
Andrew Blake
But young and In Love is its own special kind of headstrong.
Proof Andy's lying about Brittany's NZ hike & wrock interests
(Anonymous) 2015-04-17 12:13 am (UTC)(link)Andy uses Brittany to get stuff he wants. We know this:
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/39609134107/looking-for-a-music-human-to-fulfill-a-promise-to
Then Brittany (short version for the n00bs: flawless, amazing, my life partner, brutally murdered in spring 2011, no I’m never gonna be over it). She got her teeth into the album project and made it her baby. She believed in it, loved it passionately. She pulled in contacts, made deals, called up old friends like Bobby Singer trying to pull off a surprise party for a Big Bad. And it was working. She’d gotten about a half dozen professional musicians into it, lined up studio time, and even found a producer with professional equipment and experience.
And then she was murdered, two weeks before we were supposed to start recording.
It’s come to mean a lot more to me since; become a symbol of all the things she left unfinished.
So I went back to the DAYD facebook community to looked at the time before Brittany died. There WAS a flurry of wrock-related activity before her death, but none of it was from Brittany. NONE. It was entirely Andy:
http://imgur.com/a/DZRL3
I've included all the comments re: planning wrock and censored people's real names, with the exception of Andy (though I've left CFC's fandom initials). If you see a white space where a name should be, pretend it actually says NOT BRITTANY.
Because she never commented on the wrock project. At all.
Brittany was a member of this comm. She posted on it. It should be clear from the comments above that this was the central organizing point for wrock. And there is not a single comment from Brittany on the matter anywhere.
What DID she post about?
How she didn't want to let Andy down because HE wanted to do the NZ hike so badly:
http://i.imgur.com/2RIBLi7.png
Yes, the hike he sold in her eulogy, like this:
http://tf-talk.dreamwidth.org/600.html?thread=262744#cmt262744
Brittany had her heart set on the New Zealand trek.
...
She used to say without really joking at all that she'd do it over her own dead body if need be.
And so I will.
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/39609134107/looking-for-a-music-human-to-fulfill-a-promise-to
Then Brittany (short version for the n00bs: flawless, amazing, my life partner, brutally murdered in spring 2011, no I’m never gonna be over it). She got her teeth into the album project and made it her baby. She believed in it, loved it passionately. She pulled in contacts, made deals, called up old friends like Bobby Singer trying to pull off a surprise party for a Big Bad. And it was working. She’d gotten about a half dozen professional musicians into it, lined up studio time, and even found a producer with professional equipment and experience.
And then she was murdered, two weeks before we were supposed to start recording.
It’s come to mean a lot more to me since; become a symbol of all the things she left unfinished.
So I went back to the DAYD facebook community to looked at the time before Brittany died. There WAS a flurry of wrock-related activity before her death, but none of it was from Brittany. NONE. It was entirely Andy:
http://imgur.com/a/DZRL3
I've included all the comments re: planning wrock and censored people's real names, with the exception of Andy (though I've left CFC's fandom initials). If you see a white space where a name should be, pretend it actually says NOT BRITTANY.
Because she never commented on the wrock project. At all.
Brittany was a member of this comm. She posted on it. It should be clear from the comments above that this was the central organizing point for wrock. And there is not a single comment from Brittany on the matter anywhere.
What DID she post about?
How she didn't want to let Andy down because HE wanted to do the NZ hike so badly:
http://i.imgur.com/2RIBLi7.png
Yes, the hike he sold in her eulogy, like this:
http://tf-talk.dreamwidth.org/600.html?thread=262744#cmt262744
Brittany had her heart set on the New Zealand trek.
...
She used to say without really joking at all that she'd do it over her own dead body if need be.
And so I will.
Another post claiming that the wrock was Brittany's big thing
(Anonymous) 2015-04-17 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/19750659337/blatant-bribery
BLATANT BRIBERY
I have in my possession some things that are very special to me: the original concept sketches of the Daydverse main characters, the original DAYD chapter art, and the original DAYD cover art. These are currently hanging on my bedroom wall.
[three crappy pictures]
They are not, however, as important to me as something else. You may know about my friend Brittany who was murdered last year, or you may not. If you don’t, read the link here: http://www.facebook.com/groups/DAYDFB/doc/146378462101378/
Before she died, the Daydverse project she was most enthusiastic about - moreso even than A Peccatis - was the wrock album that I’ve been working on since honestly before I began writing DAYD. She had, with all her trademark enthusiasm, lined up several of her musician and production-inclined friends and even persuaded studio time to make it a reality. Then she was killed.
Almost a year later, I have been working to try and get it made in time for the anniversary of her murder, but I’ve had no luck in finding someone to arrange and produce, even though the lyrics and melodies are finished and there have been several offers of vocalists and musicians to perform. I know that we’re down to the wire, but I also know it’s not impossible to get an album out by the anniversary of the murders on May 7, with all profits to go to a fund set up in her name at the local domestic violence shelter.
So here’s the offer: If someone either does the arrangement and mixing/production for me (I can supply the lyrics, melodies, and performers) or sets me up with a friend/relative/guy next door with a band and we get this done in time, they not only get full credit, but the above-listed pieces of art and my hand-written notes where I first sketched out the arc of the ‘verse when I decided to expand it past a one-shot. If they want more, just name their price, and short of money I don’t have, I’ll do anything reasonably in my power to give it to them.
BLATANT BRIBERY
I have in my possession some things that are very special to me: the original concept sketches of the Daydverse main characters, the original DAYD chapter art, and the original DAYD cover art. These are currently hanging on my bedroom wall.
[three crappy pictures]
They are not, however, as important to me as something else. You may know about my friend Brittany who was murdered last year, or you may not. If you don’t, read the link here: http://www.facebook.com/groups/DAYDFB/doc/146378462101378/
Before she died, the Daydverse project she was most enthusiastic about - moreso even than A Peccatis - was the wrock album that I’ve been working on since honestly before I began writing DAYD. She had, with all her trademark enthusiasm, lined up several of her musician and production-inclined friends and even persuaded studio time to make it a reality. Then she was killed.
Almost a year later, I have been working to try and get it made in time for the anniversary of her murder, but I’ve had no luck in finding someone to arrange and produce, even though the lyrics and melodies are finished and there have been several offers of vocalists and musicians to perform. I know that we’re down to the wire, but I also know it’s not impossible to get an album out by the anniversary of the murders on May 7, with all profits to go to a fund set up in her name at the local domestic violence shelter.
So here’s the offer: If someone either does the arrangement and mixing/production for me (I can supply the lyrics, melodies, and performers) or sets me up with a friend/relative/guy next door with a band and we get this done in time, they not only get full credit, but the above-listed pieces of art and my hand-written notes where I first sketched out the arc of the ‘verse when I decided to expand it past a one-shot. If they want more, just name their price, and short of money I don’t have, I’ll do anything reasonably in my power to give it to them.
Screencap in case of deletion: http://s18.postimg.org/m6f4w9ayx/For_The_Fallen_2015_04_17_22_36_27.jpg
Andy floats "supernatural inspiration" and "matrix download" as an explanation for DAYDverse
(Anonymous) 2015-04-17 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)From March 6, 2013:
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/44702974164/you-and-your-universe-amaze-me-sometimes-where
You and your universe amaze me sometimes. Where does it all /come/ from?
Something on the exact razor’s edge between balls-out mental illness and supernatural inspiration. I literally just kind of KNEW all of a sudden, like I’d received a massive download from the Matrix, and it’s only been a matter of getting it all out on paper since.
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/44702974164/you-and-your-universe-amaze-me-sometimes-where
You and your universe amaze me sometimes. Where does it all /come/ from?
Something on the exact razor’s edge between balls-out mental illness and supernatural inspiration. I literally just kind of KNEW all of a sudden, like I’d received a massive download from the Matrix, and it’s only been a matter of getting it all out on paper since.
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/44719960350/starry-starry-night
There’s a lot of myths and misunderstanding surrounding the intersection of mental illness/neuroatypicality (in my case, ADHD, situational depression, a form of schitzophrenia, high IQ, and dyscalcula)
There’s a lot of myths and misunderstanding surrounding the intersection of mental illness/neuroatypicality (in my case, ADHD, situational depression, a form of schitzophrenia, high IQ, and dyscalcula)
http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/45250481854/what-languages-do-you-speak-fluently
What languages do you speak fluently?
The only one I’m currently in full practice on is English, though Supernatural’s getting me much stronger on my Latin again. I’ve been there in Irish, French, and Spanish at various times in my life, but I wouldn’t call myself truly fluent (which to me means able to express myself with complete ease and no need to pause to consider how to say anything, only what to say) in any of those atm due to disuse, though I could probably get there again quickly.
What languages do you speak fluently?
The only one I’m currently in full practice on is English, though Supernatural’s getting me much stronger on my Latin again. I’ve been there in Irish, French, and Spanish at various times in my life, but I wouldn’t call myself truly fluent (which to me means able to express myself with complete ease and no need to pause to consider how to say anything, only what to say) in any of those atm due to disuse, though I could probably get there again quickly.
Re: Andy claims LOTR bores him to the point of sleep in 2013
(Anonymous) 2015-04-18 03:47 am (UTC)(link)I was busy in the early 2000s
Wow.
some about Rose/Ten that are entirely my own issues about losing a companion.
*shakes head* Again Brittany.
Wow.
some about Rose/Ten that are entirely my own issues about losing a companion.
*shakes head* Again Brittany.
Andy declares he's dying & is glad his son (a sparrow) won't be there to see
(Anonymous) 2015-04-18 05:10 am (UTC)(link)http://luvscharlie.livejournal.com/218182.html
For those of you who have been on this LJ for any length of time, it is no secret that I have a very serious heart defect. Part of the valve on my aorta did not form properly, and every time my heart beats, it bulges like a weak spot on an old tire – sort of a cardiac hernia, you might say. One of these days, it is going to go boom, that’s all there is to it, because my only other options due to the precise placement of it would be a full or partial transplant, which for numerous personal reasons, I have decided against.
I actually wasn’t expected to live to adulthood, as they didn’t think my heart would be able to handle the growth, and in an odd way, I didn’t. I stopped growing at about fifteen – xrays show that the growth plates in my wrists still aren’t even closed – as if my body knew its limits and was trying to preserve itself. That taken into account, I’ve previously been given a life expectancy of somewhere between two and five years from now.
However, I’ve been having some trouble recently for the first time in my life. Loss of energy, occasional lightheadedness when I exert myself particularly, fingers and hands swelling (I was using my own hand for a reference and realized I’d lost most of the definition on the back of it) as well as some pretty nasty pain and swelling in my legs and feet when I am on them for more than a few hours, trouble with my hands being cold. Nothing debilitating or even more than annoying, but it seemed potentially circulatory, and Than’s no fool.
So I went to the cardiologist this morning (he helps me pro bono because of something I did for his daughter when she was in a bad situation), and wound up doing only a half day of work because of the number of tests he wanted to run. It’s thinning faster than he had anticipated…looks like I’ve got a little less than a year, after all.
THERE IS NO NEED TO TRY AND GIVE ME ANY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ON THIS, REALLY!
I am FINE. I have known I’m on the short and glorious route for years, and this has never been something that upset me, though I am not in any form of denial and never have been. See dozens of previous posts, mostly of the meme variety, as well as my Faith essay for the long version of this. I am posting this not as some kind of OMGI’mDYING thing, but to let the flist know, because I know a lot of you care about this sort of thing, and I want to give you time to prepare, even though I’ve warned you before and even though I know that several of you to whom I’m closest have flat out told me verbatim that you refuse to accept that I’m terminal.
Honestly, I’m kind of awestruck at how perfectly this has all worked out. Really, it couldn’t be better. Louise and Connor are settled in by now to wherever they are with whomever they are, so they don’t have to deal with losing me like that, nor do I have to worry I’ll ‘blow’ in front of my son. I don’t have a car right now, so when I’m in real danger of popping, I’ll not have to worry about taking out others, I don’t have the kind of job where anything will be ruined by my absence, and I’ll have just about exactly enough time to finish both the DAYDverse and my current people-projects (someone crossing the line to adulthood, someone coping with loss, someone finding faith, and a few others) without having enough time to get embroiled in something I’d leave half-done or being tempted to start another major life phase or project. Looking back, I genuinely can’t say there could have been a better time for this, and the amount of notice I have is exactly right to make sure loose ends are tied up without rushing or dallying.
It’s so beautiful the way that everything falls together when you just do your own little part, isn’t it? I can’t even imagine a reason to be upset by this, and every reason to be grateful.
For those of you who have been on this LJ for any length of time, it is no secret that I have a very serious heart defect. Part of the valve on my aorta did not form properly, and every time my heart beats, it bulges like a weak spot on an old tire – sort of a cardiac hernia, you might say. One of these days, it is going to go boom, that’s all there is to it, because my only other options due to the precise placement of it would be a full or partial transplant, which for numerous personal reasons, I have decided against.
I actually wasn’t expected to live to adulthood, as they didn’t think my heart would be able to handle the growth, and in an odd way, I didn’t. I stopped growing at about fifteen – xrays show that the growth plates in my wrists still aren’t even closed – as if my body knew its limits and was trying to preserve itself. That taken into account, I’ve previously been given a life expectancy of somewhere between two and five years from now.
However, I’ve been having some trouble recently for the first time in my life. Loss of energy, occasional lightheadedness when I exert myself particularly, fingers and hands swelling (I was using my own hand for a reference and realized I’d lost most of the definition on the back of it) as well as some pretty nasty pain and swelling in my legs and feet when I am on them for more than a few hours, trouble with my hands being cold. Nothing debilitating or even more than annoying, but it seemed potentially circulatory, and Than’s no fool.
So I went to the cardiologist this morning (he helps me pro bono because of something I did for his daughter when she was in a bad situation), and wound up doing only a half day of work because of the number of tests he wanted to run. It’s thinning faster than he had anticipated…looks like I’ve got a little less than a year, after all.
THERE IS NO NEED TO TRY AND GIVE ME ANY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ON THIS, REALLY!
I am FINE. I have known I’m on the short and glorious route for years, and this has never been something that upset me, though I am not in any form of denial and never have been. See dozens of previous posts, mostly of the meme variety, as well as my Faith essay for the long version of this. I am posting this not as some kind of OMGI’mDYING thing, but to let the flist know, because I know a lot of you care about this sort of thing, and I want to give you time to prepare, even though I’ve warned you before and even though I know that several of you to whom I’m closest have flat out told me verbatim that you refuse to accept that I’m terminal.
Honestly, I’m kind of awestruck at how perfectly this has all worked out. Really, it couldn’t be better. Louise and Connor are settled in by now to wherever they are with whomever they are, so they don’t have to deal with losing me like that, nor do I have to worry I’ll ‘blow’ in front of my son. I don’t have a car right now, so when I’m in real danger of popping, I’ll not have to worry about taking out others, I don’t have the kind of job where anything will be ruined by my absence, and I’ll have just about exactly enough time to finish both the DAYDverse and my current people-projects (someone crossing the line to adulthood, someone coping with loss, someone finding faith, and a few others) without having enough time to get embroiled in something I’d leave half-done or being tempted to start another major life phase or project. Looking back, I genuinely can’t say there could have been a better time for this, and the amount of notice I have is exactly right to make sure loose ends are tied up without rushing or dallying.
It’s so beautiful the way that everything falls together when you just do your own little part, isn’t it? I can’t even imagine a reason to be upset by this, and every reason to be grateful.
http://luvscharlie.livejournal.com/218182.html
Longer post about my trip coming after work. Short version: It was GREAT.
It has also given me an idea that combines three things on my "so, I've got a year, huh?" list:
1. Meet as many flisters as possible
2. Get in some more traveling
3. Help as many people as possible.
Longer later, but the upshot is this...I will post 2-3 weeks in advance every time I have a 60-hour consecutive stretch or longer off of work. If you want me to come visit you in that time, you just have to get me there, and I don't care how. Train, plane, bus, automobile, floo, rickshaw, camel, whatever. Don't eat much, am not picky, and will sleep anywhere.
Get me there, and for roughly two days, Than is yours...to chat, cook, bake, clean, watch your kids, help them with homework, beta your fic, write fic for you, draw for you, make you a costume, paint a mural in your house, do your yardwork, give you a back rub...anything non-sexual you can think of wanting from a handsome, intelligent, and multi-talented young man, really. I'd love to be able to offer to just go on my own, but there are a very limited number of times I can afford that, and I'm afraid I have to be very judicious with those. If you'll get me there, however, I am SO eagerly yours, and just ask ceirdwenfc...I REALLY mean it when I say I'll show up!
Longer post about my trip coming after work. Short version: It was GREAT.
It has also given me an idea that combines three things on my "so, I've got a year, huh?" list:
1. Meet as many flisters as possible
2. Get in some more traveling
3. Help as many people as possible.
Longer later, but the upshot is this...I will post 2-3 weeks in advance every time I have a 60-hour consecutive stretch or longer off of work. If you want me to come visit you in that time, you just have to get me there, and I don't care how. Train, plane, bus, automobile, floo, rickshaw, camel, whatever. Don't eat much, am not picky, and will sleep anywhere.
Get me there, and for roughly two days, Than is yours...to chat, cook, bake, clean, watch your kids, help them with homework, beta your fic, write fic for you, draw for you, make you a costume, paint a mural in your house, do your yardwork, give you a back rub...anything non-sexual you can think of wanting from a handsome, intelligent, and multi-talented young man, really. I'd love to be able to offer to just go on my own, but there are a very limited number of times I can afford that, and I'm afraid I have to be very judicious with those. If you'll get me there, however, I am SO eagerly yours, and just ask ceirdwenfc...I REALLY mean it when I say I'll show up!
Andy rambles about his "Irish" grandfather, the IRA & his HP application
(Anonymous) 2015-04-18 05:18 am (UTC)(link)http://oi46.tinypic.com/nv8nrs.jpg
http://www.journalfen.net/community/fandom_wank/1231688.html?thread=207240520#t207240520
No offense taken! I am aware that there's a bit of fuss about me in certain quarters, most of it stemming from luvscharlie's journal, though that doesn't particularly bother me, as I don't think there are many adults who don't have at least one bitter ex, even if they don't usually share a fandom.
1. I am a United States citizen, born just outside of Richmond, but wholly Irish by blood and raised rurally, including homeschooling, with very little childhood peer contact by my Irish-born-and-bred-lived-in-Belfast-until-he-was-in-his-30s Irish grandfather, who reared me as an Irishman with the intent of wanting to send me back to Ireland for college and to finish some personal business that he never got to. I also lived in Ireland myself for a fair while, and between the two, I consider myself a dual citizen by practicality if not on paper, and my brogue is quite real, though I hid it for a portion of my teen years and into my early twenties out of a desire to fit in. I have since said fuck it to fitting in, I'm going to be myself. Considering we have a president who no longer goes by "Barry," I don't think this is that unusual.
2. Yes, I have fought with both the RHD and RIRA, because I wanted to see both sides for myself before committing myself blindly to 'the cause.' What did I learn? They're both wrong. A lot of that experience, actually, I used later in writing my second HP fan-novel, "Sluagh." I did not save a woman from a typhoon, I left the hotel where I was sheltering from one (they're no more uncommon than hurricanes during certain seasons in the Pacific, and are, in fact, the same thing, just named differently) and went out into one because I thought I heard a woman screaming, as I said in the app. Brave to the point of stupidity. It was just the wind, and all I got was drenched and screamed at by a cop. I haven't just had things happen to me, I have deliberately sought them out...I spent from the age of 15-24 living at the top of my lungs as recklessly as possible, because I know I don't have long, so I'm not afraid of dying, and I want to get in as many things as possible that most people wouldn't dare to do as both my way of coping and because I don't have to worry about long-term consequences.
Was I serious in my app? Yes, and although my purpose wasn't to offend, I didn't try NOT to, either. I'm very in-your-face, with a tendency to be blunt and opinionated in a way that sometimes works well in groups and sometimes doesn't. It's a particular wild card when those groups are majority female. Ergo, rather than tip-toeing in carefully and then either not having fun because I was constantly watching my mouth or stepping on everyone's toes and making the comm no fun for ANYONE, I was completely up-front not only about who I am, but also how I come at things. I don't like jumping through hoops for hoops' sake, I don't like letter of the law, and I like to be in charge of my own destiny (the latter being why I cannot and do not RP...having to negotiate with a dozen other people as to where a plot was going would drive me bonkers.)
My app wasn't "what house do I go in" as much as it was "do I fit with this community?" Answer was no, so no problem. Glad to know at the door, 'tis why I knocked.
My IQ? It's a number. *shrug* I got tested at the suggestion of my pediatrician when I was seven, that's the result. I've never honestly bothered to find out precisely what it means other than 'quite high', but that much is, no offense, patently obvious from how easily I learn and retain things.
As for faking my death, really, what would I have to gain from that? I'm a reasonably popular writer and artist, with a wide-ranging 'verse that could be continued indefinitely. It's not like I'm lacking for attention, nor getting any in particular because I happen to have a heart condition. Heck, there are several people on my flist with serious health problems, even terminal ones. It just wouldn't make sense.
If you have any other questions, though, don't hesitate to ask. I have nothing to hide.
Andy
PS: Actually, I'm just this side of flat broke, can't make heads or tails of non-integer math, don't know who Jack Baeur is (though I've heard the name before), scream like a girl at spiders, am a baby when I've got a head cold, and although decently good-looking in a bishie sort of way, male supermodels don't exactly have much to fear from my 5'8" scrawny, bespectacled ass. Although I do have a real-life lightning scar on my forehead, and that I can prove with pictures ;-)
http://www.journalfen.net/community/fandom_wank/1231688.html?thread=207240520#t207240520
No offense taken! I am aware that there's a bit of fuss about me in certain quarters, most of it stemming from luvscharlie's journal, though that doesn't particularly bother me, as I don't think there are many adults who don't have at least one bitter ex, even if they don't usually share a fandom.
1. I am a United States citizen, born just outside of Richmond, but wholly Irish by blood and raised rurally, including homeschooling, with very little childhood peer contact by my Irish-born-and-bred-lived-in-Belfast-until-he-was-in-his-30s Irish grandfather, who reared me as an Irishman with the intent of wanting to send me back to Ireland for college and to finish some personal business that he never got to. I also lived in Ireland myself for a fair while, and between the two, I consider myself a dual citizen by practicality if not on paper, and my brogue is quite real, though I hid it for a portion of my teen years and into my early twenties out of a desire to fit in. I have since said fuck it to fitting in, I'm going to be myself. Considering we have a president who no longer goes by "Barry," I don't think this is that unusual.
2. Yes, I have fought with both the RHD and RIRA, because I wanted to see both sides for myself before committing myself blindly to 'the cause.' What did I learn? They're both wrong. A lot of that experience, actually, I used later in writing my second HP fan-novel, "Sluagh." I did not save a woman from a typhoon, I left the hotel where I was sheltering from one (they're no more uncommon than hurricanes during certain seasons in the Pacific, and are, in fact, the same thing, just named differently) and went out into one because I thought I heard a woman screaming, as I said in the app. Brave to the point of stupidity. It was just the wind, and all I got was drenched and screamed at by a cop. I haven't just had things happen to me, I have deliberately sought them out...I spent from the age of 15-24 living at the top of my lungs as recklessly as possible, because I know I don't have long, so I'm not afraid of dying, and I want to get in as many things as possible that most people wouldn't dare to do as both my way of coping and because I don't have to worry about long-term consequences.
Was I serious in my app? Yes, and although my purpose wasn't to offend, I didn't try NOT to, either. I'm very in-your-face, with a tendency to be blunt and opinionated in a way that sometimes works well in groups and sometimes doesn't. It's a particular wild card when those groups are majority female. Ergo, rather than tip-toeing in carefully and then either not having fun because I was constantly watching my mouth or stepping on everyone's toes and making the comm no fun for ANYONE, I was completely up-front not only about who I am, but also how I come at things. I don't like jumping through hoops for hoops' sake, I don't like letter of the law, and I like to be in charge of my own destiny (the latter being why I cannot and do not RP...having to negotiate with a dozen other people as to where a plot was going would drive me bonkers.)
My app wasn't "what house do I go in" as much as it was "do I fit with this community?" Answer was no, so no problem. Glad to know at the door, 'tis why I knocked.
My IQ? It's a number. *shrug* I got tested at the suggestion of my pediatrician when I was seven, that's the result. I've never honestly bothered to find out precisely what it means other than 'quite high', but that much is, no offense, patently obvious from how easily I learn and retain things.
As for faking my death, really, what would I have to gain from that? I'm a reasonably popular writer and artist, with a wide-ranging 'verse that could be continued indefinitely. It's not like I'm lacking for attention, nor getting any in particular because I happen to have a heart condition. Heck, there are several people on my flist with serious health problems, even terminal ones. It just wouldn't make sense.
If you have any other questions, though, don't hesitate to ask. I have nothing to hide.
Andy
PS: Actually, I'm just this side of flat broke, can't make heads or tails of non-integer math, don't know who Jack Baeur is (though I've heard the name before), scream like a girl at spiders, am a baby when I've got a head cold, and although decently good-looking in a bishie sort of way, male supermodels don't exactly have much to fear from my 5'8" scrawny, bespectacled ass. Although I do have a real-life lightning scar on my forehead, and that I can prove with pictures ;-)
You're fucked in the head. What you did to those people... god.
Anonymous
Obviously, without any kind of specifics, I can’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, this kind of comment is right up there with “Freak, everyone hates you” or “Go fuck off and die in a fire” as far as likelihood of being plain old hate trolling.
That said, however, it is also an opening to say something I’ve said before and will say again to the end of time because people, especially young people, need to hear it.
I’ve fucked up. I’ve done stupid things. I’ve done awful things. I’ve got a past. I’ve been racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, and ignorant. I’ve struggled with self-hatred, with other-hatred, with paranoia, with suicide, with depression, with anxiety, with other types of mental illness, and with trying desperately to find my way and my place in the world, to be loved and to survive, and I’ve epically cocked it up more than once. I’ve had to start my life over completely from scratch a good dozen times, and I’ve only just finished my 20s. I’ve betrayed people and been betrayed. I’ve broken promises and had promised broken to me. I’ve hurt people badly, and I’ve been hurt BY people badly.
And I’ve gotten past it.
I’ve gotten help. I’ve gotten support. I’ve gotten meds when I’ve needed them, and I’ve gotten a lot of therapy. I’ve educated myself and been educated by others. I’ve given forgiveness completely in my heart and accepted it when offered. I’ve made peace with those who have indicated they are open to it and walked away from those who have indicated they want me to leave them alone. I have accepted that there will be those who never forgive me, and for whom everything I do in my present and future will be seen through the blackened lens of my past, and I refuse to allow that to make me despair or think there is no point to doing my best now.
Because there is always a point. There is no such thing as a hole that’s too deep. There is no one who is irredeemable. What you were does not have to define or control what you are or can or will be.
I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I know I’m better than I used to be. I know that I’m starting to live the potential everyone always said I had, and to disprove, even if only to myself, the hatred that people have flung my way. I’ve learned not to care about what people say or think about me if it’s not true, and to concentrate on what is and on trying to do the right thing. I’ve worked to correct the things where the “haters” were right and not allowed myself to be broken by the things where they were wrong.
And I’m prouder of that than if I’d simply been “good” from the beginning.
(And PS: Anon? Don’t believe everything you read on the internet about someone. Obama’s not a Muslim from Kenya who wants to kill your grandmother, either.)
[posted October 5th, 2012]
Anonymous
Obviously, without any kind of specifics, I can’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, this kind of comment is right up there with “Freak, everyone hates you” or “Go fuck off and die in a fire” as far as likelihood of being plain old hate trolling.
That said, however, it is also an opening to say something I’ve said before and will say again to the end of time because people, especially young people, need to hear it.
I’ve fucked up. I’ve done stupid things. I’ve done awful things. I’ve got a past. I’ve been racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, and ignorant. I’ve struggled with self-hatred, with other-hatred, with paranoia, with suicide, with depression, with anxiety, with other types of mental illness, and with trying desperately to find my way and my place in the world, to be loved and to survive, and I’ve epically cocked it up more than once. I’ve had to start my life over completely from scratch a good dozen times, and I’ve only just finished my 20s. I’ve betrayed people and been betrayed. I’ve broken promises and had promised broken to me. I’ve hurt people badly, and I’ve been hurt BY people badly.
And I’ve gotten past it.
I’ve gotten help. I’ve gotten support. I’ve gotten meds when I’ve needed them, and I’ve gotten a lot of therapy. I’ve educated myself and been educated by others. I’ve given forgiveness completely in my heart and accepted it when offered. I’ve made peace with those who have indicated they are open to it and walked away from those who have indicated they want me to leave them alone. I have accepted that there will be those who never forgive me, and for whom everything I do in my present and future will be seen through the blackened lens of my past, and I refuse to allow that to make me despair or think there is no point to doing my best now.
Because there is always a point. There is no such thing as a hole that’s too deep. There is no one who is irredeemable. What you were does not have to define or control what you are or can or will be.
I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I know I’m better than I used to be. I know that I’m starting to live the potential everyone always said I had, and to disprove, even if only to myself, the hatred that people have flung my way. I’ve learned not to care about what people say or think about me if it’s not true, and to concentrate on what is and on trying to do the right thing. I’ve worked to correct the things where the “haters” were right and not allowed myself to be broken by the things where they were wrong.
And I’m prouder of that than if I’d simply been “good” from the beginning.
(And PS: Anon? Don’t believe everything you read on the internet about someone. Obama’s not a Muslim from Kenya who wants to kill your grandmother, either.)
[posted October 5th, 2012]
link to original: http://andythanfiction.tumblr.com/post/32958566690/youre-fucked-in-the-head-what-you-did-to-those
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