Sometimes I see things...
...such as a lone balloon tied to a tram stop in Victoria Parade on my way to work in the morning, or a weeping woman on a train, and I invent stories about them.
The balloon was tied there by someone as a sign to their friends as to which tram stop to alight at in order to get to their party; only no-one came, no-one at all; and now they're feeling as limp and sad as the semi-deflated balloon itself.
The woman has just left her husband after years of fighting and is weeping with a combination of sorrow and joy that she's finally done it; and at the next stop someone will get on who offers her a hanky, and with whom she'll start a wild and wonderful new life.
I see things, and entire histories flash through my head in seconds, and I wonder if I should turn them into new stories, but I never seem to write them down, or if I do, I write them in my blog instead of turning them into succinct, polished literary gems that I could submit to Overland or Meanjin. Is blogging helping my writing or hindering it?
Hmmmm, I wonder where I put that uncompleted novel?
The balloon was tied there by someone as a sign to their friends as to which tram stop to alight at in order to get to their party; only no-one came, no-one at all; and now they're feeling as limp and sad as the semi-deflated balloon itself.
The woman has just left her husband after years of fighting and is weeping with a combination of sorrow and joy that she's finally done it; and at the next stop someone will get on who offers her a hanky, and with whom she'll start a wild and wonderful new life.
I see things, and entire histories flash through my head in seconds, and I wonder if I should turn them into new stories, but I never seem to write them down, or if I do, I write them in my blog instead of turning them into succinct, polished literary gems that I could submit to Overland or Meanjin. Is blogging helping my writing or hindering it?
Hmmmm, I wonder where I put that uncompleted novel?
Comments
At least the thoughts and memories are here for you to turn into polished literary gems when you feel like it.
oh, sorry, was i fantasising out loud again?
was great to see you last night. i feel sure we'll work our way up to the yellow jumper.