Maybe Laura’s real problem came in admitting this: there was nothing new under the sun. To write a story would be, somehow deep down, to embrace her limits, to admit that, indeed, she would someday die—if not of a worm or a ceiling, then of something else. The very nature of a story admitted this reality. To be a writer was to say, yes, I am just another Murasaki, and it is quite possible that no one will remember my name.
L.L. BarkatMots clés writing writers writer murasaki tale-of-genji
Have tea, might write,” Laura returned.
L.L. BarkatIf she was going to write a novel, she felt defeated before she began, because someone might be coming along to pick it apart, looking for symbols like The Conch or The Whale, which seemed to have mythic proportions.
L.L. BarkatMots clés writing writers writers-block fiction-writing novel-writing
You could use a moth like that as a symbol in a novel, but it was trite, wasn’t it? The old moth-to-the-flame image had been used and used again. It was the stuff of amateur poetry. And she, having so little experience crafting a story, would be the most in danger of falling into trite approaches. If she wrote a novel, it probably would be about her father. And the male Luna moth would haunt its pages. Everyone would recognize the work as that of a first novelist. “She wrote about herself through the lens of her father.”
The really good novelists, Laura thought, put their fathers, and maybe their mothers too, deeper into the stories. Which, she suddenly thought, might redeem Melville just the littlest bit.
Mots clés writing writers melville moby-dick novel-writing
Had Mary Shelley fretted so? Maybe yes, maybe no. She’d begun her classic work on a dare. Had culled a dream to bring it into being. But it was not lost on Laura that the story might be a prolonged exercise in Shelley’s personal terrors. The subtitle of the work was 'Prometheus Unbound,' and Laura wondered if Shelley herself was not Prometheus in the form of the wandering monster, who desperately sought love and acceptance but was ultimately driven to face an icy landscape that seemed almost fantastical—the way our own subconscious could be, white and frozen-slippery.
L.L. BarkatMots clés writing writers frankenstein mary-shelley
This is what Laura loved about literature. You could see things in it that perhaps weren’t there, but might be. And even that didn’t matter if, in the end, readers needed something to be there. They could bring their somethings to a text, as co-creators, embedding a needed reality in the story that, if it was flexible enough, would allow new threads to take their place beside the author’s.
L.L. BarkatMots clés reading writing writers literature
Maybe you didn’t need to know anything special to write a work of fiction. Maybe you didn’t need to delve into some kind of life question you knew you’d lived. Perhaps your subconscious would do the job for you, if only you dared to dream.
L.L. BarkatMots clés writing writers novel-writing how-to-write-fiction
One Bagatelle, and I’ll raise you a novel,” Megan had tweeted back.
“Writing for tea? Now that would have been a solution for the British empire,” Laura returned.
“Writing for me,” Megan had typed.
“I’ll write you a tea fortune.”
“No deal. I want a novel. September sounds good.
Mots clés writers tea novel-writing how-to-write-fiction
She meant you have to live a story for a time.'
'And?'
'And then you can write it, in time. What have you lived?'
'Kind of a personal question for Twitterland.'
'Kind of the perfect question to answer in fiction.
Mots clés writing writers writers-block novel-writing how-to-write-fiction
...it's not the stories - it's the pain and the joy and the people who stay with you long after the stories are told ...
John GeddesMots clés pain writing writers people stories joy characters
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