As has been requested (endlessly) EK's Star Log is returning to the internet. You can still read the original archive here... https://eelkat.wordpress.com
The reason you couldn't find it is because I set it to private un-index mode, meaning it no longer shows up in Google search results and can only be accessed by a direct link.
Meaning, if you didn't have the url for it, no amount of searching for it would tell you how to find it. Anyone who had the url could still access it though.
I had set it to private September 23, 2013, intending to move each page here to EelKat.com... however, November 14, 2013, after only moving about 30 pages, I was beaten up and left paralyzed for 5 months, then spent 18 months relearning to walk. I am still crippled and have limited mobility.
Below is one of the blog posts that originally appeared on EK's Star Log. The original articles are still online but no longer indexed in Google. Links to the original article, are included with this post, as is the original posting date. Clicking the links will take you to the original site, where you can see the old Space Dock 13 website still online. Space Dock 13 as it looked when hosted on WordPress from 2003 to 2013.
Autism and Spacing Out
Autism and Spacing Out
Excuse me . . . I’m sorry, but I’ve been talking to you for a half hour now and you haven’t heard a word I said . . .
This is a frustrating thing and unfortunately, it happens often. I well be sitting usually writing, sometimes drawing, other times embroidering (the three things I do more than anything else), when suddenly I look up and see some one standing over me, and asking why I haven’t answered them yet. Me? I’m sitting there confused as hell, wondering what it is I am supposed to be answering and how they got there without me noticing them.
I don’t talk, I write. I write a lot. I am often told people like my writing style, because it is unique, and I am often asked, if I could explain or teach them how I write so that they can learn my methods and write like I do. The problem comes when I try to explain what happens to me when I start writing. I guess, if you want to learn to write like me, than you’d have to learn to mimic one the the more outlandish symptoms of Autism: blocking out everything around you and seeing and hearing nothing.
I can’t teach my writing method, because it’s not really teachable, all I can do, is try to explain it.
The biggest problem with my writing style, is the fact that I simply sit down and start writing. Literally. No matter where I am, or what I am doing, I simply sit down and start writing. This is such a huge problem, that you almost never see me go out in public unaccompanied by another adult. This is also why I do not live alone, why I do not drive a car, and why I can not hold a *regular* day job. I sit down where ever I am, when ever the mood strikes and just start writing. If you ever see a comic book character sitting cross legged on the floor in the middle of the milk aisle at Wal-Mart, writing away, well, that’s me.
I actually can not walk in places where I will have to cross the street or a parking lot, unless I have some one with me to guide me across the road, because I frequently, just stop to write right there in the cross walk. It’s a problem I have, and a really bad one that has caused me to be nearly hit by a car on countless occasions, because my mind no longer see things around me.
I once sat down and started writing, and didn’t stop for 48 hours . . . Did not eat, did not sleep, I completely lost track of time. I was totally taken by surprise when I realized the 2 whole calendar days had passed before I noticed it, because to me, it seemed like no more than 20 minutes had passed. The odd thing about this, though, is I only started doing this less than ten years ago, and this seemed to have happened shortly after a month with 4 deaths: first my horse, than my grandmother, than my dog Blackie, and than my other dog Muffin. All four of them died with in 3 weeks of each other. Stress, seems to be the triggering factor that shuts off my brain and causes me to not see or hear anything or any one around me and makes me simply start writing in an uncontrolled and unstoppable manner.
This *shutting off* and writing is the same reason why I rarely speak to people, because fact is, I rarely see them. I see the streets, I see the buildings, if there is a car made prior to 1975, I see that car and that car only and not the other cars speeding by. They simply become totally invisible to me. When I mentioned this to some one last year, they had an explanation which I had never heard of before, but quickly Googled and found out more about: she called it “second sight”.
She said that this “second sight” could explain both my seeing and talking with Etiole, as well, as my odd inability to see and hear people around me at certain times. She explained that “second sight” believers claim there are two worlds: the physical world and the spiritual world and that the co-exist one on top of the other, constantly intermingled, but that neither world is aware of the existence of the other, except on rare occasions when “sightings” (ghosts, faeries, aliens, angels, or demons) occur.
She also said that there is a high frequency of Autistic people being able to see through the barrier between the two worlds and see beings from the spirit world. She said that people who can see and otherwise interact with the normally invisible spirit world, are said to have the gift of “second sight” and she believed that this was what was happening when I see Etiole and when I seem to no longer be able to see or here people around me.
Well. Okay. Whatever. I actually haven’t been able to find much info on this “second sight” thing, so I don’t know if I should believe in “second sight” yet or not, but, it did make sense and sound like a plausible answer.
I do talk to people if I notice they are there. The trick is to get me to notice that you are there. Like I said, it’s like watching TV, and I have to switch from one channel to the other in order to notice you there. If I shut off the world in my head, I can see people around me and talk to them fine, the problem is, switching my mind out of the world I write about and into the real world where people around me live. It’s not easy. I know when I stopped talking. I can tell you the exact date: August 21, 1991, the day my best friend was murdered. I know when I started turning off the real world too: after the things that happened at church with the bishop and Pine Land Center. The real world simply became more than I was able to handle on my own and I had no friends or family to turn to.
This also explains my cloths. You see, I dress no different than the characters of my books, and to me this is perfectly normal, as it is the way all of them dress. I don’t notice that real people are dressed different than me, because I don’t very often see the real people around me, and it is not until some one comes up to me and asks me why I’m dressed like I am, that I am brought back from one world to the next, and see that, yes, in this world, I am dressed quite a bit different from other people.
But you see, there is another part of the problem: the people I write about are the people Etiole knows. His family, his friends, his enemies. When people ask me where I come up with my ideas, I can’t give them an answer they will believe.
I can’t tell them that I am writing down things that Etiole has told me about his world.
I can’t tell them that Etiole is not a fictional character from my books. I can’t tell them, that I don’t come up with these ideas, that it is Etiole who comes up with them, and that Etiole is a very real creature who lives along side us, even though very few humans have ever seen him.
I use to tell people these things, back in the 1980’s, but no one ever believed me when I told them, so I stopped telling them, and simply, stopped answering them at all.
Of course, my cloths, started when I was just 4 years old, and I was wearing my Wonder Woman underoos under my Cinderella dresses . . . I always did dress like a comic book hero gone princess. No one paid any attention to it though, until after I was about 22 years old, and people started questioning why I didn’t wear *normal* cloths, but the fact is, for me they are normal, because I have never worn any thing else.
Does having a mental illness effect my writing? Most certainly. It effects every thing in my life. But than again, as I have never been diagnosed as having a mental illness, there in lays the question: why do people think I have a mental illness? (Autism is a birth defect not an illness.)
As you can see when people say they think I have schizophrenia, or Aspengers, they are not saying so in jest, to be funny. They are very serious, and often very frightened of me when they say it. In nearly 40 years, I have yet to have a friendship last more than 6 months, because most people, once they get to know me, are completely terrified of me. At first they meet me and think I’m in costume and acting in character, and they think of it as some sort of role playing game, but once it dawns on them, that this is no act, this is no game, that my mind is what my mind is, and that I am like this 24-7-365, I never hear from them again. If I do hear from them again, it is only to ask if I have considered medication to make me *normal* yet.
My question is, Why would I want to be *normal*?
What incentive is there?
None that I can see.
The section above was originally written in 2007. A 2017 10th Anniversary update is coming soon and will appear in this section below.
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More topics I write about:
52 Stories in 52 Weeks Writing Challenge 50000 adventure advice advice for writers aliens animals Art Arts author authors Autism birds blogging books CafePress cats characters Copper Cockeral Cards and Gifts CosPlay EelKat Etiole faeries Family fantasy fiction friends Genres geography goals Gothic harassment Hobbies horror Just For Writers kimono LDS Life life blogging Maine making money online Mormons my thoughts on... NaNovel 2009 NaNoWriMo national novel writing month Old Orchard Beach Phooka phookas publishing readers sci-fi science fiction sewing short stories Squidoo Stories The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints The Ruby Throated Humming Bird The Twighlight Manor UFOs Wendy C. Allen witchcraft witches words per day write writer writer's block writers writing writing contest Writing Exercise Writing Prompts: Writing Tip of the Day Zazzle