kellindandrews

[kellindandrews]

"Third-person is you, sitting opposite the author, as they tell you the wildest shit imaginable about these people they know. First-person is you, sitting opposite the author, and getting all of the Tea from their verbal shitpost about That One Weird Thing They Never Told You About."

@i-want-delfeur This clarification is gold, for one.

But also as a writer who spends So Much Goddamn Time debating which perspective a story needs to be told in and has used both first- and third-person narration in the same universe - the same book even - I want to chime in here.

I dislike first-person narration for the exact reasons I used it for a good portion of my first two books. I find it limiting in that you not only see what the narrator sees, but you are limited to what the narrator observes (until you analyse further, of course, and begin to see what that narrator cannot). And sometimes they're dumb as rocks. I also am not the biggest fan of (reading) the close-up, nitty-gritty, everything-is-all-encompassing-ness of first-person-narrated drama.

But because of these factors and more, I found first-person to be the most wildly effective way to tell the story of a bunch of teenagers stumbling their way through the most fucked-up shit of their lives. When you're fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, you don't understand how limited your worldview is. That first-person limited perspective is Everything. When you're in your teens, everything is The Worst Ever, and in your face, and too big to handle. To read, I find it a little much, and sometimes a bit cringe (even my own writing) but every single one of us ever, in our teens, was also a little much, and a bit cringe. First-person narration conveyed this experience exactly the way I needed it to.

Narrative perspective, like every other facet of writing, is a tool used to tell a story effectively. The "I" is not you, it's the narrator crashing into the room and stumbling over their words because they need to tell you all the wild shit that's happened because seriously, you're not even going to believe this.

wait do people read first person stories and think they're the ones in the story???

Saw people talking about not liking first person, which is fair, but their reasoning was like "I would not do that" and I don't understand that mindset.

First person stories are still about a character. A character making their own decisions. First person isn't about you???? At least I thought it wasn't. What am I missing? I've always seen first person as just a more in-depth look into a character's mind and stricter POV. Not as a reader stand-in.

[kellindandrews]

the first law of tragedies: the end is already written and inevitable. the second law of tragedies: your actions are all your own and you can choose to get off this ride whenever you want. the third law of tragedies: we both know that you are never going to do that.

[kellindandrews]

Being a writer from somewhere with a small regional idiolect is weird because I have exactly the word I need to describe a very specific kind of body of water but I can't use it because it won't be widely understood. Never thought I would struggle to find an accurate translation from English to English.

[kellindandrews]

Two days later and the beast is still on my lap

Trying to finish book 3 but this thing won't move.

[kellindandrews]

Trying to finish book 3 but this thing won't move.

[kellindandrews]

Been two years but

1) I'm not dead yet

2) writing book 3

3) happy birthday to the Children of Monsters -verse. You're in the terrible twos where these kids belong.

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

Fine art prints available, message me for details.

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

December mood.

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

Gloomy.

[kellindandrews]

Welcome to the woodlands | Taken by me Crying Madam

[kellindandrews]

[kellindandrews]

Welcome to Bradley Harley! the greatly-missed, picture-perfect hometown to the Children of Monsters girls. 

Read an excerpt from the book about the beloved, sunny vacation town and visit the shop at Redbubble to support Harley tourism and for other Children of Monsters designs.

    “Harley came alive in the spring. Seasonal businesses opened again, and people came from all over. Every year, the summer was a montage of barbecues, block parties, art festivals and music and days spent on the beach next to a crystal-clear lake. The breeze was sticky-sweet, and the lake was the perfect escape from the beating sun. June smelled of fresh-cut grass and wildflowers. July smelled of fireworks and char-grilled food and sunscreen. August’s warm breeze and sun-baked concrete melted into September’s campfires and final visits to the ice cream parlour, and then the summer went into hibernation once more.

    My favourite part of the summer was the storms. 

    Harley’s summer weather was usually hot and sunny, perfect for all the summer vacationers. But when it rained, it was monstrous and marvellous. Ever since I was little, I liked to sit on the front porch underneath the little awning at our house and stare off into the distance as the hot afternoon snapped and the storm rolled in. The summer breeze held onto its warmth but lost the smell of sugar and sunscreen to take on the drowned scent of the lake and the earthy smell of the woods.

    I loved to watch the sky darken into something sinister and beautiful. Sometimes, I thought those mid-July storms were like me. I saw myself in the thunderous side of summer just as much as others saw me in the sunshine. When I was really young, I liked to imagine that I was the one making the leaves on the trees turn over, and drawing the choppy, violent waves from the lake up onto the beach. My parents made me come in when the rain pounded down on the lawn and lightning flashed in purple forks across the sky, and I loved to fall asleep to the pattering of rain against the windows and the ground-shaking rumble of thunder.

    The only one who liked storms as much as I did was Cal, who is a storm herself.”