How I Got an Award-Winning Book about Autism Published at 23 MATTHEW KENSLOW
“Go away, Matthew! You’re not our friend!” two fellow Kindergarteners yelled at me by the swing set with such bitterness in their eyes. There have been many more innuendos of discrimination from grade school to my college days. This is a story of perseverance and overcoming, not caving into what people have verbally beaten me with; an experience that got to where I am today: a person fighting hard against discrimination of any kind. I made friends, but how often would I “hang out” with them? Not that often. Some of my acquaintances were nice half the time and mean the other half. Even when I was around friends, I felt pressed against the wall, nervous to make any form of communication… unless they ask me first how my day is going; I love talking, but not intruding. Throughout my life, I recognized a set of catharses to help me make light of these situations. They included art, juggling, playing piano, and a couple more. I made up jokes and memorized the presidents just to be liked (besides, it was easy to memorize the president’s birthdays, death dates, and term dates by number anyway). However, of all the catharses that took me far, creative writing has always been one of the big ones. I used to get in a heap of trouble just for writing too much back in early grade school. Give me a one-page creative writing assignment, and I will give you a novella… with my own illustrations too. I loved creating stories and adding as much detail as possible so much, I had written a 32-page story by the tenth grade. When I got older, I would append hidden meanings behind names and places, as well as visualize various archetypes as colors to enhance the invisible, underlying messages. Writing became an art piece. I would always come home from elementary school (later middle school and later high school) and just type away for hours, writing small story books and movie scripts. I intend for each of them to be published, but have worked to no avail. About ninety-nine percent of the thousands of hours I have worked on my writing and art projects (as well as piano and juggling practice), I realize I have spent alone. My only social time with peers was at school. By my later years in high school, I became discouraged because I still could not find the strength to go up to a person and initiate a conversation. I always stood there waiting. Sometimes, they would start the conversation, but it only lasted all but a couple moments.
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And then…high school graduation. June 20, 2013. That was it. It was too late. I spent my entire educational career, from preschool to 12th grade, spending time by myself and I could never go back to change things for the better. I remember
