Hi, My Name is Stephen, and I’m a …

An introduction where I attempt to pigeon hole myself

My name is Stephen Scott.

I am a writer with Illumination.

I have a Bachelor’s degree in Communications, a half-finished degree in Performing Arts, a Graduate Certificate from AIR-TV, and a 3rd place ribbon for backstroke from my Grade 10 swimming carnival.

This is not how I want this introduction to go. I’m going to start again.

Hi, I’m Stephen.

I’m a watcher.

Always have been.

Participation scares me.

As a child I didn’t fit in: scrawny, effeminate, and too smart for my own good.

I also had terrible hand-eye coordination. Terrible at cricket. Ask anyone in Australia — if you can’t bowl or catch — you’re immediately ostracised.

I had an English accent up until kindergarten. A peculiar oddity as we lived in a backwater town in Queensland, Australia. And no-one in my family spoke anything but ocker Aussie.

I was a loner nerd in primary. I’d breeze through exams, not due to photographic memory, but a knack of retaining useless facts. A wonderful trait for trivia games, a terrible skill for living in the real world.

A useless-fact brain doesn’t process ideas well, so high school became a problem.

Having breezed through primary, I had no idea how to study, and finding it all too hard, decided to focus on my passions: music and acting.

My love of music led me to the comfort of being a DJ. I didn’t have to worry about the awkward reality of mingling with girls at the high school dance (and the inevitable rejection), as I was ensconced behind the turntable decks.

Acting would be my ticket out of this backwater town. I’d launch myself into the big city. I’d make a mark. I’d touch the stars.

I craved what I didn’t actually want to achieve.

Mistakes maketh the man

I didn’t realise it then, but I’d been wrapped in cotton wool as a child. Never allowed to make mistakes. So entering the world to stand on my own two feet and making mistakes left, right and centre, I didn’t know how to react.

It became apparent that the city life I desired was far beyond my comprehension: I didn’t know how to live outside my cocoon.

I also learnt in my first year outside of the nest the scary fact that there is always someone better. We all may be unique, but in every field there’s an alpha. I couldn’t see how that would be me.

And if I wasn’t the best, then what was I?

This terrible self view combined with normal life mistakes led to dejection.

Unable to understand what I was doing wrong allowed depression to take hold and dominate my life.

(I’ve only recently discovered my life-long dance with depression was due to anxieties. Anxieties about the big bad world that were installed in my formative years. This discovery helped me to start writing on Medium. More on this later.)

Behind the facade

But my life story is not a sob story.

Let me explain how introverted extroverts are made …

As an outsider, you develop misdirection skills to protect yourself. Being an observer gives you time and space to mimic and satirise others.

Its how you become a ‘class clown’ (or post-school) ‘life of the party’.

That’s right, I’m that guy you always wonder why they’re not good at meeting new people, or even socialising in general, especially since they always make you laugh.

This facade is an act that allows the inverted extrovert to hide their true self from everyone else. The person who was the outsider, rejected by the cool kids. The unpopular nerd. The kid too scared to go outside. You don’t see that person when you’re laughing.

This facade kept me going for 30 years or so.

It shaped who I am.

I’m still not 100% sure who that is, but give me another half-century and I’m sure I’ll figure it out.

Words. Why words?

At every job I’ve ever had, my colleagues have insisted I should ‘write’ or ‘host a tv / radio show’ or ‘be on stage’ because I’m so ‘entertaining / funny / smart’.

My low self-esteem always ensured this wouldn’t happen.

Except, as mentioned previously, I originally planned on being an actor. I’d even appeared in a decent number of stage productions and short films before deciding it wasn’t for me.

It wasn’t low self-esteem that stopped me performing.

Ask any actor to speak at an event, and you’ll find them nervous. They’re facing the reality of being themselves.

Actors are by definition liars. They are always someone else when they set foot on the stage, and that mask can hide any imperfection or fear.

You can do anything as an actor. Be anyone. A friend. A foe.

One day, walking down the street, minding my own business, something happened that changed my career trajectory.

Two elderly ladies walking towards me suddenly panicked and ran across a busy road — risking being hit by the traffic.

They’d seen me and were scared. Scared enough to run from me.

I had only just played a murderer in a production in a theatre nearby. It dawned on me … they thought I was that person.

Suddenly I understood the trappings of ‘fame’.

If you become recognisable in a role, people will see you as that role. For good or bad.

Not only that, any concept of privacy will evaporate.

I couldn’t allow that. I needed privacy to hide the shame of being me.

My acting career was over.

Thankfully I discovered marketing. It’s exactly the same as acting, but you lie using other mediums apart from your own face.

This is where I became a serious adult and took on a Business degree. Stopped doing pouring drinks and working in kitchens. Started working in offices.

When is an Actor not an Actor?

When they’re writing.

Telling other people’s stories.

“Why should you buy this.

Why should you see that.”

The more I worked in marketing communications, the better I got.

Just like a performance of a complex character, I could see problems weren’t one dimensional. There could be multiple answers to the same question. There could be multiple questions for the same answer.

Words changed from things in a script that you manipulated, into something you manipulated to change other’s perceptions.

I rose from humble copywriter to creative manager of in-house communication teams.

Low esteem and depression continued to dog me, but overall, life was grand.

Then came the GFC and redundancy. The fall was hard hitting, and depression took advantage of the situation.

Since 2008 I dabbled with whatever work I could manage: all extensions of my previous marcomms skills.

I’ve tutored journalism at university, I’ve sub-edited helpful guides for the homeless, I’ve built websites for local businesses.

But I haven’t had a full-time job in many years thanks to a complete shut-down brought on by my mental state.

Thankfully, the support of my wife, doctor and other family members have seen me take a stand over the past year.

I’ve taken on challenges that were inconceivable only a few years ago. Plus I’ve started sessions with a new therapist who has opened my eyes to what’s happening in the cavity behind my eyes.

Numerous psychologists helped me over the years, and I’m grateful for the knowledge they imparted. But this is different.

I’m finally feeling confident.

Properly confident. In myself. My skills and abilities. In me.

I’m not embarrassed to say “I’m a writer” and feel like my work is inferior.

I am what I am. Accept it or be damned.

My digital life

So there you have Stephen Scott, the human, his work-life, and mental state.

What about the online Stephen Scott?

Ohhhhh. There’s a tale.

Having been fascinated by science and sci-fi from an early age, the dawning of the internet age was my mecca.

When I first started using the internet back in the 90’s I knew it was going to change everything. Not shopping (obviously). In a million years no-one would spend money over the internet. But everything else? It was going to be a game changer!

For people like myself, fascinated by the larger world but too scared to go there, the internet was the key we craved.

I dabbled in MySpace and set my imagination free on Tumblr, creating multiple blogs to represent my personality. From silly photoshop creations to an online photo gallery to a pre-sequels obscure Star Wars characters blog to a lighthouse blog to an attempt to gather creatives in a community (ring a bell?).

Heck, I even shared creations on I Can Haz Cheeseburger and Deviant Art. Seriously, if there’s an odd website to express yourself, odds are I have an account.

I also had a go at writing on Wordpress during my days tutoring journalism, mainly as a way to practice what I preached.

A fellow copywriter (and now dear friend) who I worked with at the turn of the century (gosh, how time flies!), invited to me write for his movie review site, which I’ve been doing for many years.

A wonderful experience at being concise, it’s simple premise is to deliver a ‘super-quick review’. No fat, just the info you need. The harsh decisions to edit out what you thought was your best turn of phrase makes you a better writer. Try it sometime, it’s much more difficult than you think.

He also urged me to write. Has continued to urge me to write for over 15 years. Because he enjoyed reading my work. I thought he was crazy. (Welcome to the world of low-esteem.) Now I’m just grateful for his friendship and belief in me.

But that said, aside from the occasional burst, the past five years or so have been a barren creative desert.

Until last year when the creative itch returned. After I dismissed reigniting an interest in the visual arts, I looked once again at Wordpress. However like Tumblr and Myspace, Wordpress was a remnant of my past. It was time to look to the future.

I remembered a site I’d joined a few years back that was also a safe-haven for writers and fired it up.

Welcome back to Medium

In the dying days of 2019 I decided to rekindle my writing flame.

I would unleash the flash-fictions I’d been rattling out over the past year, but also see where the creative muse would lead.

My goals on Medium are to write, to read, to write well, to read widely, and to write in ways I never expected.

Having earned enough in the past month to pay for the next two month’s subscription is a wonderful bonus, but I won’t let the lure of money-making steer me from my goals.

I’m here to broaden my abilities and create a portfolio of work I’m proud to call my own.

• I’ve always wanted to write a story about vampires. So far I’ve written two! Tick.
• I’ve never written about people having a conversation. Where the focus of the story wasn’t an aerial view of the situation. Tick.
• I’ve never written an introduction, so at Illumination’s invitation, and Dr Mehmet Yildiz’s advice, here is my first. Tick.
• I’ve never written about myself, my personal experiences. Opening up about who I am, and how I’ve dealt with my mental health. It’s a concept that utterly terrified me. This is my third. Tick, tick, tick.
• I’ve never written a poem about love. I wrote it a few weeks ago. It’s submitted to a publication, awaiting their editorial scrutiny. Should they reject it, I may self-publish, I may submit elsewhere. Either way, I’ve written my first ode to love in poetic form, and laid the groundwork for the next. Tick.

Which brings us back to who I am (on Medium)…

I joined Medium in 2015, but didn’t start writing until December 2019, and only became a paid member in March 2020.

I published my first story with Illumination on the 25th of March 2020, my version of Animal Farm but in a different location in space and time,

and my second on the 26th, sparse poetry reflecting on the state of our world.

Real world work has distracted me from writing until the past few days. I’m sure I’ll be writing more for this amazing group soon.

Speaking of this amazing group, I want to profusely thank the awesome Dean Middleburgh for introducing me to Illumination. He started writing on Medium around the same time I did, and I take inspiration in reading his work, admiration at his successes, and genuine thanks when receiving his advice. I urge you to read his work — it’s fantastic.

If you’re intrigued about my work, here’s a selection.

• My most read pieces (and the first where I open up about who I am): both in Invisible Illness

• My latest short story — how to deal with the threat of a vampyre

• A fictional discourse on the possibility of the unreal becoming real

• A poem I wrote about the AIDS epidemic, originally published in 1992

And my responses to Covid-19 …

• Imagine what life is like for the homeless during this time (in Storymaker)

• Why not be happy every day? (in Invisible Illness)

• Before lock-downs were happening in Australia, I expressed my fears for local businesses as people started working at home

• A silly take on stockpiling (in The Haven)

• A fictional viewpoint of a healers search for a cure (in Being Writers)

About The Author

Seriously? More about the author? Isn’t that what this whole article was about?

Oh, it’s his standard footer. Never mind. Move along. Nothing more to see here.

Stephen Scott. Writer of Words. Yet Another Creative. Many names, some printable in decent company. He’s been plying his trade in copywriting and creative management since, well, before you were born (if you were born in the 90’s). Yes, he’s obviously a Star Wars fan. Connect with him on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram.