I had been wanting to have a really big birthday party for myself for at least the last 3 years. For my 32nd, I wanted to have a saccharine 32 since I had a sweet 16. However, time and money kept me from realizing that dream. I swore I'd do something for another birthday, but I didn't know which and I didn't know what. When I finally settled on it being for my 35th, I knew I had to do it up over the top. The question was, what was the theme going to be? After chewing on it for over a year, I decided I wanted to do a living wake. So, I drew up some ideas. In the first post, I covered why I wanted to celebrate a fake death.
It began here: - Birthday Plans
Somewhere between booking the party room, buying the decorations, and choosing whether I wanted to go the traditional Victorian Gothic or the more recent Helena Bonham Carter inspired route, I decided it was time to use some social networking to promote my party, set for Oct 27th of 2012. This blog and my faithful readers were my inspiration for the following messages posted on Facebook, here, and linked to twitter. (@Ephemily)
I've never written a serial fiction before now, so this was a new experience for me. But, right around lunch time on Tuesday, the lightbulb above my head went off, and my finicky muse told me to give it a try.
It began simply. I could have had anything. Not feeling well, and needing an Advil can be a cold, or it can be cancer. Time would tell.
I thought long and hard about how to keep people from confusing my promotion with reality, and decided each post needed its own disclaimer, which is why you see the same text at the foot of each entry. I enjoy a good prank as much as the next guy, but toying with peoples' emotions crosses the line into "not ok". I like you guys, I don't want anyone too distraught over a piece of fiction. Never let it be said I never gave you anything.
For the next few few posts, the humor, sarcasm, and fortitude shines through, as well as a nod to my love of all things obscure with regards to the human body. I thank the writers at Cracked for my initial exposure to the vehicle of my demise.
I am nothing if I am not searching for understanding. It's in my nature to know thyself, so when faced with this weird diagnosis, it's entirely plausible that I'd spend the evening on webMD and google trying to get a handle on things.
Sure, I took some poetic license with the syndrome, but in all, there are nuggets of truth in the story.
Insomnia posts on social networking sites are ubiquitous. Of course this story had to have at least one.
I wanted my readers to watch a slow decent from sanity and comedy into desperation and exasperation brought on being constantly on edge and sleep deprivation. I'm hoping that this is evident in over the course of my decline.
In the end, my "death" appears off camera. Thunderhead, who was such a sport about my wanting to do this, played along and wrote up a fake post for me to use to announce my passing. I thought to stay true to the storytelling aspect of the whole charade, it should have a different voice for authenticity. The final entry announces the party on Saturday night, and is a fitting end to the adventure we'd both taken people on for the last week.
I want to thank everyone who played along and enjoyed the fakery. It's been fun to write. It might convince me to actually write fiction. We shall see.
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