Friday, September 16, 2005


It seems I’m always looking for that breakthrough in terms of writing, expression, fiction. But shouldn’t I look for breakthroughs in terms of giving, of caring, of charity? Steven Riddle says he has loggorhea, which I think means he likes to write, and I find great satisfaction in poetry and short stories. They are remarkably elusive. Maybe a couple a week. I marvel at Bill Luse’s ability to take a narrative and keep it going and going, consistently and in the same voice, not suddenly launching from here to there such that you can tell his mood by the chapter. It’s tighter and more seamless than I seem to have the capacity for. Reading it gave me to understand that novel writing just isn’t my thang. I don’t read many and even writing a short story within three pages I’m looking for a joke to tell. Dave Barry is my hero.

Bill must have a good attention span. I think to be a good novelist you have to like novels, sort of like to be a good lover you have to love women. Too often I’ve not had the patience with novels, wishing they’d get to a point, and that is a reflection of a short attention spanning. Blogging is my medium though it doesn’t pay well.

Short stories and poems get catapulted straight from the heart, they bring up the good dark, arterial blood and it’s a joy to see that burgundy on the page. They tend to wear well. Preachy posts don’t, because my lack of sanctity makes them seem embarrassing and neither do the nature posts because again nature is a fickle mistress. But when you get the arterial blood there you get something that has some juice, that has some play, because it strikes deep and there is an element of self-discovery within. I learn by writing, never more so than in what I call fiction. Writing a good non-fiction-disguised-as-fiction piece has a sexual release aspect to it that lasts about a day or two.

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