Well… I must embarrassingly resign myself as uncultured, and impatient. Swan’s Way by Marcel Proust is just too boring for me to continue.
I think I am missing something, because I don’t understand the draw. It’s not that I can’t handle writing without a narrative, since I loved The Peregrine… but, the lack of narrative in Swan’s Way is not made up with exceedingly beautiful writing… or, not beautiful enough for me anyway. There is just nothing to bring me back to it, or hold my attention once I grudgingly start again.
I think, it is likely something that needs to have attention given to it. But I don’t want to have to give attention. I want my attention taken, and held hostage!
Maybe I’ll try it again when I’m older…
Now that I’ve got a bit of experience slush reading at our new magazine, I can say ‘start at the action’ with even more certainty than ever.
When you’re reading someone else’s story, who you don’t know, and have no preconceptions about, it is a lot easier to see faults. One fault being ‘I have no desire to keep reading this because nothing is happening.’ If your friend or family wrote the story, you want to see what happens because you are curious about the ideas in the head of someone you care about. But, most other people reading that story might get bored…
If your story is about a bank robbery, start at the bank. A detailed account of the afternoon leading up to the robbery is going to lose 90% of your readers, even if it’s really great prose. Short stories aren’t novels, people don’t know what they are about or what to expect, so you have to let them know what the story is about right away and give them a reason to keep reading.
I think I will learn a lot about writing from the experience with this magazine!
My novella has some pictures in it, and strange things done with the formatting. I wonder how that will go over or who will like and dislike it…
I need to take one more picture to stick in there, and finish editing of course, then I will get to hear from some readers whether all these strange things I’ve done work or not.
Here’s hoping! At least they are easy to take out if they don’t go over well.
I finished this disturbing series on Netflix recently, and for anyone interested in crime or serial killers, this is a must-watch.
What stuck with me most, though was how they so expertly build up the uneasy anxiety when in the room with these killers. Even though (or perhaps, because) the interviewees speak and act for the most part like normal human beings, there is a tensity, and sense of needing to get the hell out of there is so strong in each of the interviews, that I found myself leaning forward in my seat and clenching my hands. The effect is memorable and unsettling.
I don’t know if it was a movie magic effect, or just my own perceptions, or something somehow conjured by the actor–but Edmund Kemper’s eyes are so dead and empty. And when that emptiness is juxtaposed with the jovial and friendly way that he speaks about murder and rape… the result is sickeningly effective.
The final scene of the final episode really magnifies what I’m talking about…
A great show, recommended!
This was the story of love between many people over a lifetime.
There were so many little nuggets of goodness in this novel that it’s hard to give a general idea of why I liked it. I loved the description of Florintino, and found a lot of myself in him. He was also laughable at times, though, with his ridiculous ideas of love and his determination that bordered on obsession.
I enjoyed the juxtaposition of youth and age, and how their views on love differed, but the views that others took of them remained the same–they were kept apart in their youth because they were too young, but in their old age, their families try to keep them apart because they are too old for love!
Fermina has a hard/hot headedness that Florintino refuses to give in to, and it is fun and emotional to read. He is a tireless, endless lover and you can’t help but cheer for him to keep trying.
The kind of love that lets you fall for someone in your youth, and then be unable to forget about them for fifty years, even when they never talk to you or even acknowledge your existence, is difficult to imagine. But Marquez does a great job of giving me an insight, and a hint at what that might feel like.
I know it’s only fall, but winter feels like it’s arrived latley. I’ve missed it! Time for burning fireplaces, scraping windshields, thick jackets and frosty breath. And, more writing?
It seems like fall/winter are more of a time for writing than the warmer times of the year. Of course, I write all year round, but it just seems to fit better in this half of the year.
Maybe my word production will increase as the heat decreases…
Many moons ago, before the summer slung itself haphazard over the shoulders of Britons, and as easily fell away, my friends and I dreamt up a new creative writing magazine. The journey to launch has been an interesting one. Frankly, of course, we have no idea what we’re doing. And I imagine that will be […]
via Our New Creative Writing Magazine is Open for Submissions — Lucent Dreaming — Jannat Ahmed