Just a sampling of my novel...
Copyright © 2010 A.M. Carson
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada License.
File 1
Fairytales have wrecked my life. There I’ve said it. And I know I’m not the only one who looks deep into the very essence of who they are and realizes that it’s Disney’s fault that their lives are fucked. I mean honestly, let’s think about how many of us are wandering around out there waiting for our frog to turn into a prince, waiting to be woken from our slumber (literally and metaphorically) by our own personal gorgeous prince, waiting for the whole world to burst into song when that magical kiss happens. When we are constantly disappointed and faced with the awful fact that the only person we are guaranteed to spend the rest of our life with is ourselves, we get…well…depressed. Probably Prozac and Celexa have forged a deal with Disney. But it’s not the pharmaceutical companies I’m after, nor the animation corporations that cater to a ‘happy ever after’ sort of ending, it’s myself. Because, Ok here’s the thing…life is not a fairytale and neither is love. I know, it’s hard to digest but it’s the truth. And the sooner we learn that, the better. It took me a long time to realize that. Growing up with Disney as my main hero I was convinced that my prince was out there. That there was one singular human being who would sweep me into my happily ever after and that would be it. And so growing up from a very early age, I began looking for my prince in every (and I do mean every) male that crossed my path. I put myself in my own male-centered world, where what I should have been doing instead was putting myself first. If someone else is along for the ride, great, but it’s ok if it’s just me.
How did I realize all this? I got dumped. And not the fun kind of dumped where I skipped right into another man’s arms thereby making the original guy uber jealous. I got dumped in the mean gut wrenching ugly kind of way. How could I have been such a fool? How could I have let this happen to myself. But when I really sat down to think about it, I kind of realized that he wasn’t the first testosterone fuelled human to wreak havoc on my soul. Full well knowing that I couldn’t change the past I wondered how could I change my future. How could I prevent myself from repeating the vicious terrible boyfriend cycle. If we ignore our own history it’s simply bound to repeat itself; and that’s when I realized I had to go through my own personal stack of dating files. And man was that stack big.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada License.
File 1
Fairytales have wrecked my life. There I’ve said it. And I know I’m not the only one who looks deep into the very essence of who they are and realizes that it’s Disney’s fault that their lives are fucked. I mean honestly, let’s think about how many of us are wandering around out there waiting for our frog to turn into a prince, waiting to be woken from our slumber (literally and metaphorically) by our own personal gorgeous prince, waiting for the whole world to burst into song when that magical kiss happens. When we are constantly disappointed and faced with the awful fact that the only person we are guaranteed to spend the rest of our life with is ourselves, we get…well…depressed. Probably Prozac and Celexa have forged a deal with Disney. But it’s not the pharmaceutical companies I’m after, nor the animation corporations that cater to a ‘happy ever after’ sort of ending, it’s myself. Because, Ok here’s the thing…life is not a fairytale and neither is love. I know, it’s hard to digest but it’s the truth. And the sooner we learn that, the better. It took me a long time to realize that. Growing up with Disney as my main hero I was convinced that my prince was out there. That there was one singular human being who would sweep me into my happily ever after and that would be it. And so growing up from a very early age, I began looking for my prince in every (and I do mean every) male that crossed my path. I put myself in my own male-centered world, where what I should have been doing instead was putting myself first. If someone else is along for the ride, great, but it’s ok if it’s just me.
How did I realize all this? I got dumped. And not the fun kind of dumped where I skipped right into another man’s arms thereby making the original guy uber jealous. I got dumped in the mean gut wrenching ugly kind of way. How could I have been such a fool? How could I have let this happen to myself. But when I really sat down to think about it, I kind of realized that he wasn’t the first testosterone fuelled human to wreak havoc on my soul. Full well knowing that I couldn’t change the past I wondered how could I change my future. How could I prevent myself from repeating the vicious terrible boyfriend cycle. If we ignore our own history it’s simply bound to repeat itself; and that’s when I realized I had to go through my own personal stack of dating files. And man was that stack big.