Browsing All Posts filed under »My Books«

Philosophy of Writing – 14.2 – A Sample (Contd.)

September 16, 2012 by

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Existing (carried over from previous post) There was a tree, in our woods, that would send you to sleep. We learnt to cultivate it – my mother’s family – to crossbreed it with oaks so the trunks grow strong and knotted. The original we cut down decades ago. A mimeograph of it hangs in the front hall; my […]

I Defend Perfectionism

August 24, 2012 by

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Veronica Roth is the author of the phenomenally popular -ərgent YA series (Divergent, Insurgent, and the as-yet-untitled third book, which I’m betting they name Convergent). I don’t particularly dislike Roth’s writing – but it doesn’t have the same impact on me as, say, Kurt Vonnegut. This is comparing apples to Magritte, you say. Oh, I would never dream […]

Philosophy of Writing – 14.1 – A Sample

August 13, 2012 by

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As this short story develops, I’ll post edits. I imagine this will help regular readers see how I approach editing. Drafting There ‘s was a tree, in a our woods, tht that lets that will would send you to sleep. We learnt to grow cultivate it – my mother’s family – to cor crossbreed it with oaks so the trunks grow […]

Philosophy of Writing – 13 – Waiting

August 13, 2012 by

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Writing about waiting is writing about nothing. I can wax lyrical all I like about negative space but I can’t meaningfully describe a vacuum. The brain isn’t fond of lacks, naughts, loves or negatives. Blog posts that catch writers mid-suspension list symptoms of a human brain occupying non-coordinates: insecurity – my writing is awful egomania […]

The State of Self-Promotion

August 6, 2012 by

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He introduces me as “a writer” to his friends. I want accuracy – I say in his native tongue, clumsily, that I earn nothing. I’d like to say that I often feel like a racehorse at the starting block: Let me show you how I can run, watching other races, pacing, for months and years, while my […]

Philosophy of Writing – 12 – Obsession

May 27, 2012 by

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You imagine what people will say, but they always say things you never expected, because word sludge is pulled through their sillystraw brains in an entirely different set of loops than through your neural spaghetti, right? Because each person is a universe, and Cosmo can’t tell you shit about what your man thinks. I brace myself, […]

Philosophy of Writing – 11 – Concentration

April 18, 2012 by

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I used to sneak frozen orange syrup. My mother liked her juice watered-down, so the only reason I got in trouble was because I couldn’t open those paper cans without making everything sticky; they had to be thrown away. Frozen orange concentrate tastes like stars. I can’t eat more than a spoonful. I was worried […]