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Post by V on May 23, 2006 23:47:27 GMT -5
I stumbled across an old floppy disk with the back-catalog of my adolescent attempts at prose, today. There are a dozen or so stories in various states of completion (most are only a page long) all from when I was about 12. They are appallingly bad, skipping around dizzyingly and full of detailed descriptions of what people are wearing (complete with brand names) and two dimensional characters. And chock full of disabled men. I was obsessed. None of my heroes are AB. It's endlessly amusing and very telling. And, of course, painful in the way that all adolescent writing is. Anyone else have relics of tween devness lying around?
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Post by Sean on May 24, 2006 0:33:27 GMT -5
no prose, but journals. oooh, the anguish, the pain, the angst. I've thought about burning it all, but... I'm keeping, for posterity.
And it's not on disk, it's on paper, cuz I'm too old to have had a PC when I was 12... I mean, C-64 were a ways-away still when I hit the teenage years!
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Post by Triassic on May 24, 2006 1:00:37 GMT -5
V, post some excerpts here!
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Post by Amy on May 24, 2006 2:55:51 GMT -5
V, I can totally relate!! I didn't discover I was a dev till college, but I have dozens of stories I wrote between the ages of 9 and 18 with dev themes. It was pretty much all I wrote about. I didn't know why I loved writing about disabled guys so much. I never even thought about it, never occurred to me that this was different in any way. Men in wheelchairs were simply the most compelling characters I could come up with.
Of course, as soon as I started masturbating, I realized right away that all these stories turned me on immensely. Suddenly everything made perfect sense.
Like wylz, most of my old stuff is locked away in marble notebooks at my mom's house.
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Post by Sean on May 24, 2006 3:14:46 GMT -5
Hey! I do certainly hope my old stuff is not locked at your mum's house! LOL
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Post by rebecca on May 24, 2006 4:10:37 GMT -5
Going back in my mind over what I've written through the years, I start ticking off characters in wheelchairs or crutches. There are so many, I lose track and 99% of it was written before I even heard the term "devotee".
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Post by quadguy on May 24, 2006 10:38:14 GMT -5
I have dozens of stories I wrote between the ages of 9 and 18 with dev themes. Amy, would you be willing to post some on this site? I'd be fascinated to read them. Have you written any since you became aware of your wonderful Devness?
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Post by dolly on May 24, 2006 11:06:54 GMT -5
sort of on topic?
when i was a kid there was a book i loved about a girl (around 12 or 13) who had both legs amputated above the knee and used a wheelchair. it was about her coming home and adjusting. sort of pre-teen fiction I guess. circa late 70's. i loved it, but never owned it. i just kept taking it out of the library. over and over again. i can't remember the title and i sure would love to find it again! any ideas???
another one i liked in jr. high was called head over wheels about two identical twins (teenage guys) and one becomes sci. i did track that one down again.
i used to write a lot as a kid too, and yes, i did create a few characters with disabilities. didn't hang onto them tho. that must have been funny to go back and read, v.
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Post by Amy on May 24, 2006 12:30:21 GMT -5
You can buy Head Over Wheels on Amazon for one cent!
I read voraciously as a kid, but I don't think I read much disability fiction, just because I had trouble finding it. Believe me, if I had seen it, I would have eaten it up. Unfortunately, it just doesn't exist.
I do still do a lot of dev writing, although most of it is junk. The stuff I wrote as a kid is just ridiculous. The more recent stuff I've written is at least coherent, but as I mentioned on another thread, I'm sort of shy when it comes to posting stories I've written. Besides, they're not erotic like many of the other stories on the site. They're actual real stories that just happen to have a hero who's disabled.
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Post by quadguy on May 24, 2006 13:18:21 GMT -5
I'm sort of shy when it comes to posting stories I've written Well, that's a shame. As a quad who has only just discovered that there are women who are attracted to disabled men, I would be fascinated to read your recent stories and hopefully understand a bit about the psychological aspect of such an attraction.
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Post by Amy on May 24, 2006 15:39:55 GMT -5
Well, maybe if V posts some of hers, I'll post some of mine!
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Post by spurs2000 on May 24, 2006 17:01:28 GMT -5
Well, maybe if V posts some of hers, I'll post some of mine! Go on 'V'! Go on 'Amy'! It's cheer leading wheelie!
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Post by V on May 24, 2006 21:34:12 GMT -5
My stuff is not even enjoyable, though. It's just BAD. And none of it is finished. I would just start setting the relationships up and introducing our hero and and heroine and then I would get bored and not finish.
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Post by Triassic on May 24, 2006 23:31:53 GMT -5
Yeah, V! That's why you HAVE to post it. It'l be hilarious. Come on, you were 12...
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Post by V on May 24, 2006 23:55:55 GMT -5
Okay, kids. There isn't a lot of substance in this 500-odd KB of drivel, save for the one well-loved magnum opus. I was probably around 12 when this was started though I might have been closer to 13 when I stopped working on it. It was originally written over 3 or 4 notebooks and later typed into the computer. Here's an excerpt. Victoria's (our heroine) family has recently moved cities to live with her mother's new husband and his daughter, the evil step-sister, Kendra. Kendra is superficial and mean (a popular girl - oooo). The night previous to the scene we're reading held an end of the year dance, in which Victoria (whose knee is currently dislocated for some reason) was bullied into wearing a skimpy dress, had to hang out with Kendra's friends, and had a headache and her knee hurt, all of which eventually led to her escaping the noise and crowds and sitting outside... where she met Jeff, our hero. This is the morning after they hung out: Kendra's mad at Victoria for going off on her own, has found out she was off with Jeff, has called Jeff to break the mall outing day he and Victoria were going to do. He is now just picking Victoria up... after she has explained the situation and yelled at Kendra for interfering. Christ, that was way too much explanation for a couple pages of text. Sorry guys. At 10:00, I was waiting on the front steps for Jeff to pick me up. Kendra made a big deal about talking about how much fun she was going to have with HER friends, and passed me a hate look as I got into Jeff's car. I just smiled and waved. So did Jeff. "I'm so glad she told me she called you. Otherwise, you'd think I was awful. Like her." "Me too. Although, just from being with you last night, I didn't get the impression that you were that kind of person. You never know, though. It really hurt when she called. I felt like a total outcast." "I'm sorry. I really am." "I know." There was a long pause. Then, I said, "You aren't, you know." "What?" "An outcast. You really aren't. Actually, you're the first normal person I've met." "That's sad." "Why?" "Well, most people think Kendra's friends are more normal than I am." "Why's that?" "Well, for starters, they can all walk." "Like that actually makes a difference, or anything." "It does to most people." "That's kind of shallow, don't you think?" "Yes, but you get used to it." "Are you?" There was a pause. "I used to be one of Kendra's friends. I was really pretty popular. Now, I only have a few friends. It's not bad, really, but, you never get used to it. It was such a sudden change, I don't think I'll ever adjust." "I'd like to meet your friends. If they're anything like you, I think I'll like them." He smiled, "You probably would. Especially Kevin. I can see you two getting along really well." "What's he like?" "It's pretty hard to explain. He does live out this way, though, so if you want, I could have him meet us there." "Sure." He picked up a portable phone and had a short conversation with someone. Then, hung up and looked at me. "It's all set. Kevin is going to meet us at one in front of A & W." "Great." I said, and looked at him. He was so attractive. He had dark brown hair that was just a little to long and deep penetrating brown eyes. I wondered what he was like before the accident. "What was life like in Kansas?" "It was nice. I had a lot of good, down to earth friends. Although popularity never meant much to me one way or the other, I think I was pretty popular. It felt that way. If Kendra is the average person around here, I'll say that people weren't so judgmental. They never really cared about what kind of clothes you were wearing. I have worn anything that fits comfortably all my life. There really wasn't enough money to be picky. Now that I'm here, I have no idea what my taste in clothes is." "You must be going through culture shock." "Kind of. My room is bigger than the living room, dining room and kitchen of my old house combined." He smiled, "Mind if I put some music on?" "Not if its nothing like what was on last night." "Fear not." He reached under the seat and pulled out a CD case. "Why don't you pick?" "Okay." I looked through the case and after much dispute, I put in a Bach CD. "The English Suites?" "Yes. I love Bach." "So do I. His music always has such a life to it." "Yes." "Do you play any instruments?" "No. Never enough money to take lessons. You?" "Piano." "Are you any good?" "I'm giving a concert on Tuesday." "Wow. I've always wanted to do something creative like that. I envy you." "It's a lot of hard work." "I'm sure." By this time, we were in the parking lot. We found a free handicapped parking space by Marshall Fields and got out of the car. "How are we going to do this?" He asked at the sight of my bags of merchandise. "I don't know. I can't carry this stuff for long, though because it's really heavy and I am on crutches." "Let me take some." "Are you sure?" "Yeah." He said, taking the two heaviest bags out of my hands and putting them on his lap. "Are you sure that's not going to hurt you? I can carry it." "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." We went into the mall and spent an hour returning my clothes. Then, we met Kevin.
What, you ask, is the nature of Jeff's disability? Well, that is something that would change with my curiosity. At the time of my abandoning this to the floppy disk on which it ultimately ended up in my parents' basement, he was an amputee. But actually, mostly, he was a paraplegic. That's how I've always visualised him, at least. So here you go: a snippet of banal, BAD writing from my jr. high school days.
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