My first ever novel; August.

My passion for literature is certainly not strange to any one whom knows me well enough, however one thing that may surprise 'some' is that I adore writing and by adore, I mean I do the hobby every single day.

About 2 years ago I began on a journey of a book called 'August' and I still to this day haven't finished the book itself - it isn't anything to do with the fact that it may be incredibly long because the truth is, it isn't.
But the real reason is; I'm terribly protective of it.

For me, writing has always been used as a therapeutic solution to when I'm at my most vulnerable or even at my greatest. However, I've wrote many many stories in my time which I keep personally stored away on my hard drive yet when I began 'August', I felt particular moved at the thought that it could be the one.

The only way I feel at least a little bit human is if I type away my emotions or create an alibi which may secure my self whilst I'm capable of revealing what's inside me. However with my constant dedication to August, I began to form myself into the story to such an extent it had began to scare me physically.
Things with August had transformed dramatically: fears had become people, friendships became demons and precious objects became my worst nightmare and it was all me, filtering myself into August.

To some who don't me personally, August is simply a story but to me, it is literally my absolute everything and I say this with great sincerity.
As I've mentioned previously, I've typed quite a few stories before, one's of which were done at greater ease but suddenly, when typing about August, I couldn't let the feeling of only half satisfaction sit on my shoulders; everything needed to be truthful, it needed to be raw and it had to be correct.

August is a piece a broken perfection and I felt I should offer her my honest guidance whilst completing her.

I envy any one of my friends whom sent me their literature pieces with such great confidence; mainly because it took me a year and a half to send to some one my prologue and whilst doing so, I felt as if my heart was going to fall out my stomach and scream at me.

August so far, is everything I have ever wanted but at the same time, it is every thing that I don't want to see.