I may have to pursue a second profession, that was how harsh my words sounded. Good thing he's totally not a dick; if anything, I may have gained points by talking straight. This is good, because it is becoming apparent to me that I will never eat bread purchased with my words.
Now, the story about my story (September Dreams, the one with blixco written all over it): I wanted the subject to be something I'd never write about, something that it is hard to write about. The bigger, the better; at first I was gonna' take on Jesus Christ. Something iconic, and so well known that the world has their story about it already.
Then I wanted to present it in a new way.
When I think of the terrorist attacks at the WTC, I see a clear image of a man captured, lounge-like, as he falls to his death from a burning highrise. He looks so out of place, stark human frailty against rigid steel and glass. I see that image, and I hear the noise.
And lately cities, especially New York, have been fascinating to me. The way people cell themselves off from their close-up world.
So, combine all of the above, and hey hey hey, you have it. No Jesus Talk Show for y'all, thank God. Thirty minutes first draft, another twenty to cut all the words that I didn't need out.
I have two problems with it: formatting sucks, and I'm annoyed by how often I mentioned it being a dream. I mean, a) it's not and b) it's clear enough, thanks.
Right then! Go write something! More fiction from the lot of you!
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