Medium and The Autobiographer

I’ve come across this site – Medium – while I was looking for another blogging site (not that I’m discontent with this site, I’m just trying to spread my writing seed). I decided I wanted to write a fictional autobiography (does that make me a hipster?), but I didn’t want it to be linked with so much of my personal me-ness….I promise in one form or another, it makes sense. 

Any way, I like the site simply because I like how the layout is for posting entries. Other than writing and posting entries, I have no idea what I’m doing on that site. I can’t even seem to find a Help section, or a FAQ section, or Forums even. But the best way to learn something is just to dive in. 

A few days ago I posted a link to one of the entries there. I thought I’d post a little bit of that post, just to see what people thought of the idea here. So, here it goes.

They sat across from each other in the desk, Jane with her elbows on the wood surface, fingers latched together, and her English chin resting on their backs.

Antralyise’s tall, slender body curved as he slouched in his plastic, folding chair, his own elbow supporting him casually as he leaned to the right, a ling slender finger lightly propping up his thin, handsome jaw-line. A cocky eyebrow was raised on his smug, calm face, his thin lips turned to a slight smirk.

He was amused. Jane was not.

“You’re not leaving until we’re done,” she informed.

“You seem to think you have some control over what I do,” he replied, the smirk widening.

“I have more control over you than you do,” Jane warned. She reached for her coffee and pulled a swig from it. The cup was child-like, but she had painted it as a poor reflection of the Universe. She grimaced inwardly at the tasted of the instant coffee.

“Aren’t you going to offer me any?” Antralyise asked.

“So you drink coffee. Black?”

“You should know, shouldn’t you?”

More arrogance. Jane should have known. Something in her was tickled by this being, but he was certainly tricky, and she was weary. But the interview had to be done. If she was going to get anywhere with her writing, this had to be done.

She returned with a mug of black coffee and set it before him.

“I like your hair,” he murmured. He was mocking her.

“Well we’re not here about my hair.”

“But we’re here about me, aren’t we?” It was not a question. “And I’m saying I like your hair.” He blew on the drink and took a sip. “This is superbly awful coffee.”

“I never said it was quality.” She watched him, his facial expression never changing. “I have questions for you.”

“That would be the point of an interview, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m just going to work my way down the list.” She turned the tape recorder on and put it between them. “Question One — Who are you?”

“I would have thought you knew that one too.”

“For the benefit of the recording, can you please just tell me. I don’t want a conversation about what I should and shouldn’t know for every single question.” Jane was feeling exhausted.

“I am Antralyise,” Antralyise replied, coolly.

“What are you?”

“I am an Elf.”


“I am an Ayer Elemental.”

“How old are you?”

“Several centuries older than you, yet fairly young to my people.”

“God a number that goes along with that?” Jane’s voice was flat with annoyance.

“Somewhere in the 1700’s — Vyra always keeps track of that,” he waved his hand dismissively.

“What is your greatest flaw?”

He laughed. His long, yellow hair waved down the back of the chair. “I am flawless. I have no flaws!”

Jane wrote down on her yellow notepad: Arrogance

“What is your greatest asset?”

His smile faded and he sipped his coffee. “Skip that one,” he replied, only just audibly.

“Are you happy with who you are?” Jane asked, altering the question she had written down.

“And who am I?”

“An assassin,” Jane replied.

“So you do know something about me.” His smirk returned.


“If you were as gifted an assassin as I am, would you want to be any different?”

“Are you comfortable killing people?” Jane asked, shocked more at her own surprise at his answer.

“Take whatever you have ever made in an hour, and multiply it by fifty, and that is what I make for pulling a trigger, drawing a sword, letting loose an arrow. Sure there is a little bit of work, finding the target, planning — but that is all just a bonus. I follow my own rules, and no one tells me how to play the game, but just to get it done. Do you have that freedom in your job?”

“Well, I don’t have a job, so…”


“I beg your pardon?”

“So you’re on unemployment, you’re mooching from the system, but sitting here judging me because I’m taking scum off the planet.” He put a boot against the desk and rocked his chair back and balanced, his long, black leather coat sweeping the floor.

Jane pressed her lips together and looked down at her notes. “Next question… ‘



This I suppose is going along with my recent obsession of character development. My long lasting character is Antralyise, and my Autobiography-writing character is Jane, who represents me in many ways, but is still a little fictional. I’m trying to kill two birds with one stone – getting to know Jane while getting to my my long standing characters. 

In this “interview” I did learn a bit about Antralyise that I didn’t know before. There were something Jane wanted to ask him, but couldn’t, so another character will come into play. 

Just a little exercise I’m playing around with


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