You’re gonna write another story. Flash fiction? A novella, perhaps? You don’t know – having not yet decided (and you’re buggered if you know what it’ll be about).

And so, you’ll begin a sentence with ‘and so’, just because you can, and because the rules are there to be fucked with. And yes, you are allowed to end a sentence with a preposition, if it sounds right to your shell-like.

If it doesn’t sound right to them—the others—then it’s a case of tough tits, McGinty. Away with thee. Go and read someone else’s stuff. The shuddering of a stickler or two is always fun in any case: oh, how you relish the squirmy vibes they give off when they see you giving a big yes to one of their absolute no-nos. (It would be worth mentioning at this point that because you refuse to adhere to the destructions, neither can you not employ double negatives.)

Also this: the subject’s not that important to you. The theme, the structure, the characterisation, it’ll come together as it always does, as it has done many times before. You have so many fucked-up notions inside your little noggin that whatever needs to come out will. Give it time. And don’t get hung up on plotting—some of the best ideas come from pantalooning your way through the pages. The stranger the events, the clearer it is to you. You think differently because you are different, fuckit – and it shows in your writing.

There shall, of course, be swearing in this new story of yours – there must be. You think it? You say it. You write it. You don’t listen to your mother who begs you to refrain from fuckery and cunting-twattishness just so that she and your father can ‘ave a read of that-story-wot-you-wrote or watch that ‘orrible-piece-of-telly-that-was-conceived-in-your-mind.

Additionally, there is (and should be) a distinct lack of fuckgivery when it comes to the voice of the piece: I T    S A Y S   H E R E  that thou shalst not changeth tense or play keys-in-the-middle with third and first and second person. This rule is the reddest of flags to a rather pissed-off bull, fed up with wackily-dressed humans in Disney mouse ears. The bull must gouge. You fuck with it, it must gouge. Kill the shit out of the Mickeys.

And so…(again)…you decide to change it. Mix it up. Swap it around a little.

It was quite jarring, and deliberately sudden, but this is exactly what she decided to do. Right at this ‘ere very juncture. She preferred to write weird shit anyway (not that she had any choice in the matter), and what could be weirder than a deliberately annoying piece of crap that fucked with grammar and rules and all that shit? She’d been born a pain in the arse and would die a pain in the arse – this Opposite Girl from Opposite World. And so, O-Girl would always ensure to find a way to be different – in small ways, ways of such starry bigness that they were of astronomical proportions, and in whatever the fuckotherways she could determine. And that included self-referential verbal diarrhoea in third. And so she would. She did. It’s what she did. It’s all she did.

And so … I decided to mix it up. First, now. Is all this flipping-about annoying the unholy shit out of you yet? Good. I like to do that.

There are no rules. Just get the fuck on with it. You can edit later. Write in your own voice, using whichever accent and whichever volume you so desire. Then crank it up a little higher.

And so … you write.

And so do I.


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