Browsing All posts tagged under »philosophy of writing«

Philosophy of Writing – 15.2 – A Thought Experiment About Books and the Donation Model – Part Two

September 21, 2012 by

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Part One is here, and is about me. I’ve split this into two so practical readers don’t have to slog through a personal post. (N.B. from the future: I’m represented by an excellent agency. Decision made.) ~~~ Idea I provide my fiction for free, including print copies. I hire artists and other professionals necessary to […]

Philosophy of Writing – 15.1 – A Thought Experiment About Books and the Donation Model

September 21, 2012 by

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  Part Two is here if you want to read about the donation model and not introspection. (N.B. from the future: I’m repped by a fab agency. Decision made.) ~~~ It’s none of your business where my writing is on the path to publication, but I feel like sharing. At the moment, I’m just another frustrated artist […]

Philosophy of Writing – 14.3 – A Sample (Contd. Further)

September 17, 2012 by

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I started writing a story on the blog a few weeks ago, about strange soporific trees. It’s now plotted, and will most likely be my next attempt at a novel.  It’s as-yet untitled. I’ve included the above painting in this post because she looks just like I pictured Eleanor. The first chapter appears below. Some further […]

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 […]

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 […]

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 […]

Philosophy of Writing – 10 – Wordcount

April 12, 2012 by

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Most authors should cut. They embed tiny fragments of complex, fragrant chocolate into warm bread dough so sparsely they can barely be tasted–then draw a line through the points with a butter knife to emphasise their effort. Here! Look! Here are the good bits. I meticulously fashion a mask of silver thread and beaten gold, jewels […]

Philosophy of Writing – 9 – Depression

April 10, 2012 by

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I’m not. I can’t. Really. Thank you for the lovely words. Thank you for the things you told me. They’re not true. You told me it’s beautiful. I don’t know how that happened. I worked hard, yes, I did, but you. You said it was beautiful. I can’t have done this thing I’ve already done, because that […]