Although every writer has their own individual thoughts on becoming attached to the story they create, I wanted to share my personal feelings towards Neon, my reasons for creating it and for why it is so pivotal in my life, to those of you who have supported me thus far. Some of you might already know some of this detail, and I am aware this post will likely become convoluted and rambled; it’s just- I’m aware of how repetitive I may become in the comment sections, particularly to those of you who are serial commenters, with my it means so much to mes and my thank you thank you thank yous. I’m also aware that I never really give anything back, never could give anything back to repay you all, because this truly means a lot to me. Therefore, I just wanted you to understand why I am so unbelievably thankful towards every comment, subscription, read or upvote. Why it literally has changed my life these past few months – which may seem hyperbolic, but is, in essence, the truth.

I have been writing for years. I started as a young child, possibly aged nine or ten, and now, at eighteen, it has become as inherent to my character as breathing. With writing, although I know I am not an exemplary author by any means, I get this overwhelming vocational urge, wherein I cannot pass the day without writing something. It’s a force, a gravity, in and of itself, compelling me to write. Even when I hate the craft, even when I don’t want to write, I still feel obliged to. Truthfully, I am more of a poet than a novelist, and the quality of my poetry – though still lacklustre – far exceeds that of my novels. Neon is the first attempt I have made in almost a year to return to the novel-writing world, to develop my skills in that area. That’s the first reason support means a lot to me – simply an artistic development, an attempt at evolution, on my part – however, it is not the primary reason. The following paragraphs contain things that I find somewhat difficult to share, so forgive me if the detail I go into is limited. Please know I’m not trying to garner your sympathy or attention – I just want you to understand, to know, why your support is something so moving. I truly hope this does not damage your perception of me, though I understand if it may. I would also just add a small trigger warning here, too, in case any of you become upset in reading about the following themes.

I used to be a member of this site, back in 2016, underneath a different account. Back then, I wrote SHINee fan-fiction solely, and was overwhelmed at the support, encouragement and growth it afforded me as a writer. Being part of this community presented a realm of acceptance for me as an individual, a place wherein I felt more comfortable, at home. It was truly wonderful, and I made several amazing friends (some of whom I still have today, thankfully). However, at this time, I was simultaneously writing poetry and I had inherited this extreme notion of perfectionism within the art; I would drive myself into unhealthy bouts of insomnia in order to write and write and write, because I felt innately that I was not good enough, that I was disrespecting the craft – embarrassing myself, even – with the work I produced. On top of the pressure from schoolwork, from social life, and from my personal battle with depression at the time, this was another unnecessary strain upon my life. I knew perfection was impossible – and that, even if it could somehow be obtained, I most certainly wouldn’t be the writer to do it. However, I wasn’t content in myself, in my ability, and I drove myself to a psychological edge in trying to force my craft further.

It didn’t take long before I broke, and in the Summer of 2016 I found myself despising my writing, and myself for being no good at it. I needed something more, something I could do successfully. As someone with awful body issues, awful self-esteem, I finally turned my attention to what I thought could help me – losing weight, and becoming more beautiful. At the start, it was a slow process, I lost a little weight, then a little more, and the only side-effect I felt was joy at being able to reward myself. However, as the months progressed and I kept going, my world began to warp; I know longer had the energy nor mental capacity to write, and so that side of me – the side I tell you is so important – was wrenched away. With each kilo lost, I seemed to lose more of myself, both physically and mentally. By the end, by late September of 2017, I was on death’s doorstep. I became an emergency admittance, and was told that, if I hadn’t been taking the cocktail of multi-vitamins I’d choked down daily, I would be dead. I was told that if I had left it another week – hell, maybe even another day – my heart would have simply stopped beating. At this point, my liver was already shutting down, starting the systematic process that would have quickly led to my death. I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa and forced into recovery.

During my recovery, I became forced to openly admit to the psychological traumas I had been facing the years prior, issues with self-harm addiction, suicide attempts, depression, paranoia – things my family had no idea about, things I had never intended to share. In recovery, a recovery I am still progressing through, I was forced to confront all of these issues. Whilst I can unequivocally say I am in a stasis of recovery from anorexia, no longer victim to the same callous desires, there are many other issues I have faced that still haunt me daily, and I occasionally have nightmares about the eating disorder itself.

It seems somewhat tangential that I am telling you this, but there is a firm point behind it. I mentioned that during my anorexia, I was unable to write; I tried, occasionally, to force myself, but as someone who couldn’t even sit on a chair due to how painful it was on my tailbone, as someone who found herself passing out in changing rooms and waking up every morning covered in a new mosaic of bruises, it was beyond my mental capacity to pen something of any worth. All I thought about was hunger, food, weight- I became this conduit for a morbid perfectionism, inherited from the morbid perfectionism I had sought in my writing beforehand. With my weight restoration, I began to write poetry again, began to immerse myself back into things I had lost – my interest in K-pop being another.

It was only in recent months I plucked up the courage to return to this site. I had left many friends upon my first departure, and for that I remain guilty and sorry. However, since I had last written here, something horrific had happened in the fandom, to the group that had changed my life – Jonghyun’s suicide. I decided that it was still too painful for me to write about SHINee, so it was only when I found myself gravitating back towards BTS (another group whom I had adored) that I decided I could return to this website, to hopefully find comfort and solace in a community I lost.

When I had dealt with my eating disorder, I became more isolated than ever before; at least, when I was not obsessed with weight and image, I had online communities of friends. When I lost that, I lost any scintilla of social standing I had, I lost the warmth and joy of talking to people, about writing for people. I mourned it, though knew it would not return. Therefore, when I came back several months ago, I was nervous, apprehensive; I was returning to join a new fandom, a new community, without the same support, without the backlog of writing practice I had on my other, older account. I was nervous I wouldn’t be accepted as I had been once before – not due to the different fandom, simply due to the different me. I started to write Neon, and silently hoped for the best.

I wanted Neon to be somehow different from other fan-fictions. Its quality is nothing remarkable, of that I am certain – however, I wanted to create a fictional conduit wherein the world and characters reflect each corner of today’s society, and, simultaneously, each corner of me. I don’t want to divulge too much information, for I do not wish to spoil the plot, however, the themes that will be dealt with as the novel progresses are ones I personally find compelling, controversial, important. As a writer, I want to be able to make my readers think, and shine a light on certain events that we may shy away from in society. In Neon, The City is a micro-cosm of our planet, from the bustling, elitist inner-metropolis to the poorer, dilapidated outskirts. Each of the central characters symbolically embodies part of the human psyche, and will deal with certain issues. The world itself contains commentary on religions, morality, ism, ageism, stigma surrounding mental illnesses and disabilities, and difficult over-views on abuse, illness and the strain of relationships.

I have introduced the issue of Jungkook’s mother – her intense mental suffering and disability – and with Yoongi, I am beginning to explore a story-line that will be both poignant and resonant (well, I hope it will be – alas, I don’t know if I have the ability to make it so). Moreover, Seokjin and Jimin exist to help denote classist perceptions, and Namjoon as a conduit for the symbolic representation of how a bond does not necessarily have to be by blood. There will be other themes introduced in other characters – however, as of yet, to speak of them would be a give-away. The outer world the characters exist in will hopefully grow to embody a realistic, cultural meld of each echelon of society – portray our world today on a smaller, condensed scale.

So, whilst Neon is technically only fan-fiction, I wanted to use it to be so much more, regardless of whether it is read or not. I cannot ever gain mainstream representation on AFF, and I doubt my ability to gain traction on the site alone, for my writing is poor; however, if I can use my story to emotionally engage someone, for me, I have been victorious. For me, I have lived to do what I wanted with Neon.

The support I have received here has served me as a comfort like no other. People have been encouraging, warm and kind – some exceptionally so. You’ve truly helped me immerse myself in this community, feel valued as part of the fandom, and given me motivation to keep writing, to keep building. Moreover, your consistent support helps me understand that I shouldn’t bind myself to that false notion of perfectionism; truthfully, it does not exist, and all I can aim for is to inspire readers to view my work – which I seemingly have. I know I have a long way to grow as a writer, and I know my ability was no-doubt jarred by my illness, but the support, the motivation, the strength, conveyed by my readers – it serves as a symbol of hope to me. I smile reading comments, I blush and almost tear up at your support. I went from a lifeless, pale, sickly shell of a girl to one who can laugh, can smile, can look at herself in the mirror and accept what she sees – and I credit a lot of that to those of you who continually support me, and help aid my confidence. I know you all don’t truly know me, but the joy I receive through your kindness and support proliferates into other areas of my life; it is silly, and it is small, but now I have something to live for in Neon and my readers. A small community, of course, but one I gain so much happiness from, one that inspires me so much more than my own sullen impulses.

Truly, I have no way to thank you all. I wish I could send you the blessings of heaven. I wanted to write this so you could all know why it means everything to me that you support this novel, and yet I also know it still won’t do my feelings justice. Yet, thank you, everyone. Thank you so incredibly. My life has been unequivocally brightened by your support, and I have no true way to repay you, your thoughts, your kindness. So, I will thank you, until my throat bleeds and my eyes sting.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It truly means the world. Good luck with everything, and stay healthy. I love you all very dearly.

-Emma