I understand what you're talking about. I submit stories to magazines, and to me, the self who sends them off is like a star in the sky, because by the time the editors read my work and judge it, I'm not the person who wrote the piece anymore. That person is me, but an outdated version of myself. Worse still, some of my older work I want to either throw away or overhaul, because otherwise it doesn't reflect how I think or write now, in the present. Writing in this sense gets a bit sisyphean, and it makes me feel a little crazy. As for how I think, that too is a trail of snakeskins I leave behind me. The process of me becoming 'the definitive me' will never finish.
This is an absolutely fabulous essay. A beautiful expression of the shifting sensibilities of a writer. Or even, a writer's search for truth (or some version of it).
Where do you stand on the issue of unreliable anecdotal writing? Is misdirection and shrewdly-applied exaggeration worth elevating a story? Or is it narrative sin?
My sense is that some of the most delusional and confused narrators in fiction are also some of the most captivating narrators. Regardless of how 'lifelike' a narrative appears, many readers seem to play an unconscious game of assessing whether the story that's told is the actual story—which happens in life too. Just like how a ruler that's inaccurate but consistent is still useful as a measuring devise, an unreliable narrate can show, by a contrast, the story. Thank you very much for the kind words and the comment, Rohan.
I wrote this line yesterday: “I write what interests me, not what I believe.” A lot of what you wrote is similar to a digression I wrote in my forthcoming essay. Eerie.
I understand what you're talking about. I submit stories to magazines, and to me, the self who sends them off is like a star in the sky, because by the time the editors read my work and judge it, I'm not the person who wrote the piece anymore. That person is me, but an outdated version of myself. Worse still, some of my older work I want to either throw away or overhaul, because otherwise it doesn't reflect how I think or write now, in the present. Writing in this sense gets a bit sisyphean, and it makes me feel a little crazy. As for how I think, that too is a trail of snakeskins I leave behind me. The process of me becoming 'the definitive me' will never finish.
I think your last sentence is key—but it can be seen, for me at least, as uplifting too. Thank you for adding your thoughts and the comment, Camila.
Always full of potential growth and regrowth. :)
This is an absolutely fabulous essay. A beautiful expression of the shifting sensibilities of a writer. Or even, a writer's search for truth (or some version of it).
Where do you stand on the issue of unreliable anecdotal writing? Is misdirection and shrewdly-applied exaggeration worth elevating a story? Or is it narrative sin?
My sense is that some of the most delusional and confused narrators in fiction are also some of the most captivating narrators. Regardless of how 'lifelike' a narrative appears, many readers seem to play an unconscious game of assessing whether the story that's told is the actual story—which happens in life too. Just like how a ruler that's inaccurate but consistent is still useful as a measuring devise, an unreliable narrate can show, by a contrast, the story. Thank you very much for the kind words and the comment, Rohan.
I wrote this line yesterday: “I write what interests me, not what I believe.” A lot of what you wrote is similar to a digression I wrote in my forthcoming essay. Eerie.
That's a nice coincidence. And perhaps fortuitous for both of us. Thank you for the comment, Corey.
It is usually hard for writers to borrow money but very easy to borrow ideas, lines, quotes, paraphrased whole paragraphs and lie like a rug
Thank you for the comment, Malcolm.