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About the author
aroeckner
Novel: Strong/Weak
Genre: Young Adult & Youth
34,004 words so far  

About aroeckner

Location: Chicago, Illinois

Home Region:
USA :: Illinois :: Chicago

Age:15

Website: http://www.strongweak.webs.com/

Favorite novels: Inheritance series, warriors, Thirteen reasons why, Jacob have I loved, Tamar...

Favorite writers: Tamora Pierce, Tolkein, Paolini

Favorite music: classical, jazz, oldies

Non-noveling interests: horse back riding, running, reading, playing piano, clarinet, and loving animals

Joined: October 22, 2007

This Year: Official Participant

NaNoWriMo History:
'07 '08

NaNoWriMo posts: 0

NaNoWriMo buddies: 4

 

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Synopsis: Strong/Weak

It's a story. A project. It's a way to escape, and a way to let it all out.

My name is A. And hopefully you're here because you want to know about it.

I want to explore my life, and understand it better. Maybe the part of me that's scared just wants to rationalize everything that's happened. I don't know. But I'm writing it all out. Everything that mattered to me. It will be here. And maybe, in the end, I will know if I'm strong or weak.

Excerpt: Strong/Weak

Prologue

There’s a place. Where there’s no death and no life, and where the darkness shines brighter then the sun. There’s a place where no one speaks, and yet no one is quiet. A place where the nerdy kids aren’t so nerdy, and the jocks and cheerleaders aren’t so preppy. A place where nothing is as it seems.
It’s a place deep down, in the center of your mind, where only some may reach it. It’s a place where there’s no happiness, yet no sadness. Where nothing makes sense, and yet everything does. It’s a place of nothingness. Nothing means anything. Nothing can bring you out.
It’s not depression. It’s something more, much deeper than that.
It’s running nine miles only to stop in the middle, because you think you can’t make it. It’s working so hard in school until there’s nothing else in your life. It’s reaching out to someone so much until you can’t take it back, but want to.
It’s realizing that there’s no meaning. For anything.
It’s a dangerous place. So deep in your head, and if you delve too far, you may lose yourself completely.

I’m the kid sitting in the back of the class, reading a book, but staring into your skull. The kid who doesn’t talk. The innocent one. The one who most ignore. Who most think wants to be ignored. I’m the kid who gets straight A’s. The kid who doodles. The kid who stares and the kid who quietly inquires. The kid who no one realizes exists until the teacher calls their name.

I have a name. I like my name. But I don’t like the world enough to share it.

You can call me A.

You can say hi, if you want. If you’re reading this in school, you can turn around and say hello to me.
I won’t bite. If you’ve never been a jerk to me, I might say hi back.
Might.
But that’s just how I am.

So, why are you here? Maybe you wanted to dwell into the mind of a quiet kid, see how we see? It’s not that exciting. There’s no drama. No love affairs. No parties and no drugs. We sit. And we observe.
But sometimes, that’s not a bad thing to do. Ever overhear a conversation between two cheerleaders? You know, the whole “he said she said he said” phenomenon? Priceless. Or have you ever been completely forgotten by teachers and fellow students alike? Or have you been voted the “Most quiet” in your school, and been applauded for it in the form of jeers?
Or have you ever been picked on by boys who think they’re cool, and you just ignore them because you know they’ll go away eventually?
If you just stay quiet a little longer.

I’ve enjoyed my life, see. Who wouldn’t? It’s taught me very important lessons, such as “Everyone around you is a jerk, besides the close friends you’ve known since elementary school” and “Quietness eventually gets rid of annoying people.” Both those things are quite useful, the way I see it.
Don’t you agree?

I’m a smart kid. I know I am. I don’t need people to tell me that. I don’t need people to stand behind me for everything. I just need time and a piece of paper and a pencil, and I can do anything, create anything. I need no verbal words or stupid friends…
Right?

As long as I know I’m stronger than them. Can hold out longer. Can go on, get a better job with a better pay then most of them.
But am I strong?

Tell me I’m strong.

That’s all I want to be.

aroeckner's Writing Buddies

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