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John Palcewski's Journal

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Words, words, words...
forioscribe



neurophyre wrote yesterday:

How can I be sure this is reality?

I replied:

When events become more bizarre than science fiction, I ask myself the same question. For a novelist the problem gets worse. Good fiction is based on TRUTH. And when the truth itself is bizarre, well, the reader just can't believe it. So you have to alter, hold back, amend, edit. Which is a form of lying.

What to do? What to do?

neurophyre said:

I once read something (about movies, but it applies to fiction in general) about how you can ask your audience to believe the impossible, and they'll do so without question, but ask them to believe the improbable and they will reject it.


* * *

Before I turned to fiction I was for many years a photojournalist, newspaper reporter, magazine editor/writer. Thus I am compelled to accurately document and report everything I see and hear. To find exactly the right words to convey what is before me, what has moved me, what has in fact shaped me. I keep looking for those words.

But don’t be fooled. Despite that serious frown, I’m a happy man!



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What a marvelous image of you. It says a lot about who you are. Thank you.

Thanks, I appreciate your interest!

I look serious a lot of the time even when I'm not necessarily feeling that way. And often what feels to me like a big grin is a small Mona Lisa smile. It's odd.

I want to find the right words as you do, but I fear I'm not doing enough reading. A lot of reading probably goes a long way to improving that, at least for those who are continually unsatisfied by the written distillation of their own internal experience.

Reading, yes, but more important I think is ignoring any and all self-doubt and continuing to write.

I recently read a book for my comp lit class ("Brave New Worlds", a review of dystopian fiction, though this doesn't particularly fit in) entitled The Gangster We Are All Looking For by lê thi diem thúy. She later came in and did a guest lecture and a bit of performance art.

She has the ability to not only write like how a child thinks, but to condense memory (or fiction) down into perfect gems of sensory detail of just a few paragraphs. The book doesn't have a "plot" as Western readers might demand; it's more of a number of these jewels strung together. I want to be able to write like that when describing my memories.

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Very nice of you to say, thanks!

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