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I am on Blogit to write my book,
THE CONCEPT OF WHITE PLASTER.
This book is about anger management for the autistic killer. At the age of fifty, I had a mid-life crisis. But in the social innocence of a condition, known as Asperger’s Syndrome, I went back to college to study mathematics. When I was a teenager, I had murdered my sister. There were certain matters, then, involving social disparagement that had triggered me. After leaving “Teller State Hospital,” instead of going to the gas chamber --I took mellaril for another twenty years, because I found it controlled my anger. I did not take it for my supposed paranoid schizophrenia. But about the time that I went back to college, an obvious social “loser,” and having finished caring for my sick parents, I was removed from this chemical because mellaril had been found to cause sudden cardiac arrest in mental patients. Because of this supposed danger to my own health I found myself at college unarmored by this remarkable chemical. I was not stable. I was in severe withdrawal. And it made me sex crazy, though not in any illegal way. Because of my distress that I was forced to bear in secret lest others might learn of my old felony, someone could have been killed, for I was not exactly treated right at “Sendby Community College.” I was hard-pressed to control my rage at all the cruel gossips who saw someone to easily bully and rebuke after the usual fashions of society --for people with this syndrome can seem so odd. After so many years, there were certain unresolved matters involving social disparagement --just as it had been so long ago when I shot Janine and had planned for the deaths of others, as well, for how they’d treated me back when I was a teenager. And it did all hinge on this: Asperger’s Syndrome, that little understood form of autism.
When you read this story, read it obliquely. Avert the gaze of your eyes, so to speak, as the autistic do in real life. Imagine it all a metaphor, perhaps an ideational construct. Imagine the tears I’ve always felt behind that peculiar gaze of my eyes that others do not understand. Imagine my deep hurt. Imagine, obliquely, how angry I might be. To say what I must say, it must be said as a “fiction.” I must say the thing at a certain angle. Otherwise, it would be completely unbelievable. You may find the story deeper than you first suppose. ---Novelvision2020
- Location:
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United States
- Primary occupation:
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PORTRAIT ARTIST
- Dream occupation:
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To write very early. To do portraits in the day.
- I like:
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FOUR THINGS: WRITING, ART, MATHEMATICS, and {Tastefully Deleted}
- Favorite writers:
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Poets: ee cummings, T.S. Eliot. Playwrites: Shaw and Shakespeare.
- Favorite books:
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Of Mice and Men. Brave New World. Steppenwolf. 1984.
- Favorite magazines:
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The Onion
- Favorite music:
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Current Update: Video:All These Things That I Have Done-The Killers
- Favorite movies:
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Reservoir Dogs, Hunt for Red October, White Oleander. Most anything with Tom Hanks.
- Favorite quote:
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Man does not live by bread alone. He needs bullshit, too.
- Gender:
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Male.
- Religion:
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The Golden Rule.