This semester, I’m taking a fiction writing class. I’m still working on the novel that will be better than anything Hemingway ever wrote, will hit the best seller list the week after it’s published, and will be lauded by every book critic in the country.
I’ll be happy if the book gets published and sells 100 copies.
My class this morning filled my head with ideas. I write odd. Not here, but in the novel I write odd. I started creative life as a writer and then switched to visual art. I didn’t plan it that way; it just happened. I am amazed at how difficult the transition from visual back to verbal was. I had forgotten how to write.
I’m doing something odd with the novel. I’m illustrating it with words. I have words capitalized because I want my reader to focus in a particular direction. Things like referring to one character as: The Body which used to be a Homeless Person. My teacher disagrees with this approach. He’s welcome to disagree, but I’m not going to change the punctuation or capitalization. I’m trying to combine both visual and verbal art without having pretty pictures on the pages. It will either work or it won’t and I won’t know which it does until I finish writing the novel.
Among the things I decided during class:
– The action takes place over a period of one year.
– I need to let my male characters speak more.
– I need to have the two main characters speak to each other more.
I really like being retired; now I can do the things I want to do instead of the things I have to do.