You’re probably wondering why you’re being assaulted with all the pink.

“My eyes, they bleed!” You’re saying to yourself while covering both your eyes. “When will this madness end?”
To which I reply, “It never will.”
And then I’ll helpfully point you to the (x) button on the top right corner if you’ve stumbled here by accident.

But if you’ve made it this far, you’re probably not turned off by the pink nor are you here for the blatant advertising, are you? You want to read about little old me and why I do what I do, and if you should consider sticking around (props to you for making it this far, I really appreciate it) to read the rest of my stuff. Okay, *deep breath* here goes:

I could tell you that I’ve dreamt of being a published author ever since I was 9 years old, but you’ve probably heard it already. So instead, I’ll tell you about how writer’s block ravaged my creativity for 5 years before a heartbreak spurred me to take action and kick me into writing what became my first novel, thus ending the drought I thought I would take to the grave.

Sounds less boring, don’t you think?

I was actually doing pretty well before I hit the big 1-8 and legally became an adult. Then it all went downhill from there. All the qualities that had existed in my previous works suddenly spiralled down the drain, never to be seen again, kind of like your mother’s precious wedding ring you accidentally flushed down the toilet when you were 3 years old (not that that happened to me…). All I managed to crap out was a big wet mess, with the distinct odour and intellectual quality of diarrhoea.

Now, I don’t know how bad someone’s diet needs to be if all that came out of them was (mental) diarrhoea, but I knew it was bad. Very bad. But at least it was better than what happened after—the stream drying up and hardening to a dry, almost crunchy paste of horribleness. Yes, it was constipation, and a deathly case of it too.

And that kept happening for the past 5 years.

All of a sudden, the diarrhoea didn’t seem so bad. At least something was running instead of being severely backed up. Then, I met a boy and his behaviour sparked all sorts of negative emotions in me, the sorts of emotions I had repressed in all my years of living. Tip: don’t do it. Nothing good comes out of repressing your feelings. I wish I had known then what I do now.

Anyway, I didn’t like what I had become whenever I was around this boy, and decided for my own wellbeing that I would end things once and for all. So I did. But as you know, heartbreak doesn’t come easy. To deal with it, I buried my head in my laptop and wrote and wrote and wrote, not daring to stop until I had finished my tale (not an autobiographical one, luckily).

It turned out to be my very first novel, not including the 16 page “novel” I wrote and then lost when I was 10. It took roughly two and half months to write. If you think that’s impressive, the editing took two years and it’s still not done. I have a problem with perfectionism, which is ironic because I don’t necessarily think I have the best taste in books and if you’re reading me right now, I don’t have the best words either.

None of my words are beautiful or elegant (though to be fair, it’s not easy making diarrhoea and constipation elegant) but they get things done, or so I hope. The last thing I’d want is to write purple prose… ahem, moving on.

What can you expect at Amethyst Writes?

You probably skipped through all that nonsense about me (it’s cool, I don’t blame you) because you want to know how this website can entertain you.

Well, I won’t make any promises. You may or may not be entertained. You might decide this shit sucks and want two of your minutes back, and while I can’t give you back your time, I can tell you in advance what’s in store so you won’t waste it next time. Feel free to warn others too 😉

What I do:

YA fiction featuring protagonists of colour—but why stop there? Why not have supporting characters of colour too? And different sexualities? And different religions? And, and… I try to be an inclusive writer so if you’re into that, you’re definitely at the right place. If not… well, you know where to go (literally anywhere else).
NA and contemporary adult fiction featuring… yep, you guessed it, the same stuff above.
Sarcastic guides on how to write better, and this is ironic because I’m literally the last person in the world you should take writing advice from. In fact, I probably used literally wrong.
Posts deconstructing the shitty writing I did as a kid and the shitty writing I’m bound to still do as an adult. Enjoy the train wreck, guys.
The actual shitty writing I did. If you’re after literary gems, this ain’t it.
Advertise my shit. There’ll be a few posts that’re just blatant advertising. Stuff like, “Join the membership, you won’t regret it” or something along those lines (what are you waiting for? Go and join now! 😜).

What I don’t do:

Literary stuff. Listen, I love pretty words and beautifully written prose as much as the next guy but let me tell you right now—this ain’t the place for it. Take your snobbery somewhere else.
Give good advice. Probably.
Book reviews. I don’t read as much as I should, which is like the number one rule for writing better, but well, what can you do? There are a lot of great reviewers out there on the world wide web though, and Google has your back… I think. While you do that, time for me to hit the books.
Clean up my language for prudes. Sorry folks, I swear like a sailor and you won’t want your teens to read me, but that’s okay—you can find a whole bunch of authors who refuse to say f*$% and sh*& and all those dirty words. But if you’re going to whine about my swearing, save your breath and your time, go somewhere else.
Probably a whole lot more but this’ll do for now!

5 Fun and Not-So-Fun Things About Me:

I’m funny on the streets, but incredibly depressing in the sheets (which is to say I use humour to cope with my depression).
I have a super fast metabolism… at least, I used to. #gettingold
When I was a very young child, nobody could figure out what gender I was thanks to my very androgynous features and I was ferried back and forth from the boys’ and girls’ toilets until I finally wet my pants from all the confusion. They figured out I was a girl after that.
I’m currently learning Spanish in the most unconventional way.
Mosquitoes are very attracted to me for some reason.

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PS: Sorry for the potty humour. I really have no excuse for telling toilet jokes, especially at this age 😛