After a weekend at home.

One of the writers in the anthology Truth in Nonfiction writes:

We are constantly changing our personal narrative so that it matches our idea of who we are and in what role we see ourselves.

What happens when these ideas change mid-work? I continue to return to this idea as I publish each of my chapters. I’ve already noted that each representation of myself — Fifteen, Seventeen, Seven, etc — is a different being, but I think that each narrator is slightly different too. The darker pieces were written when I was feeling pessimistic, while the floaty, dreamy pieces were written when I was feeling confident and creative. There is a tone that flows from these different moods and circumstances of the narrator, who is only a facet of the author. Each piece is a part of me reconstructing another part of me, seen through multiple selves since. If we were to write that story today, I would write it differently. The personal narrative will always change.


Sitting on a train back to Melbourne, having spent the weekend with my family in Warrnambool. I think the lack of Internet and limits of a busy carriage may have helped me write these 2000 words on my Scrivener page. I’m now on track to reach next week’s deadline, in terms of word count. That said, I think my arguments about my creative work become a little floozy in points – I’ve often forgotten my point so just floated to another one. I suppose that’s what a draft is meant to look like, though. It’s meant to have potential?

I’m beginning to really feel the pressures of next year’s decisions. I’m unsure of my location and direction – to pursue a PhD now, or gain some job experience / moneys first? To move cities or remain here? I’m trying to stop the stress from affecting my work and progress, but I’m worried it will catch up with me soon.


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