--{ fiction after analyses }------
So my new project these days has been to write fiction. Partly, it's because I feel like I've whined about it long enough to my friends (how I really want to be writing fiction) that I should do something about it, rather than waste time whining, which is what I've been doing.1 So I'm doing it now, engaging in writing honest-to-goodness long length stuff. Well, not really so long length yet. I've only got three chapters down now (and they're short short short!), and twenty-one more to go.2
But wow, it's way more difficult than I'd thought.
It is not as if I am unaccustomed to writing. Man, I spend every day writing stuff. Legal memoranda. The occasional "scholarly" paper. That's all I do, really, is write, and read.
What I am discovering, though, is how difficult it is to switch gears from my usual mode of writing. Especially to writing the type of fiction that I want to be writing.
I am discovering that I am making too much sense.
See, brevity and step-by-step analyses are prized in legal writing. And it's what I've come to be, er, good at. It's what I myself like to read in a good legal document, or a good academic paper.
But it doesn't make for the fiction that I want to read or write. I like the random surreal stories, I like the occasional ambiguous sentence or double/triple-entendre, I like the stuff that's implied, not stated, I like invocations, not explanations.
What's a pomo-fiction-loving3 lawyergirl to do?
I have devised what I think is a fairly clever workaround. I've set up my story so that, while the setting is a completely alternative world, most of the narrative is such that I can use exactly the same voice as in my legal writing. And even some of the same terms, only meant differently. I'm hoping that in this way, I create a sort of meta-level of surreality.
But I'm not sure what to do for the parts in which I can't use my analytical voice. Will I be like this forever, like a kid who made a terrible legal face and now can't get unstuck? It's even changed the voice of my introspective writing on this page, I think.
So here's my new vow, we'll see if I actually stick to it. I'm gonna try to remember to put some nonanalytical writing exercises on this page. To work out those surreal muscles of mine, if I have any left.
042401
1. But there are other reasons that I am finally writing. One is completely crazy, and I recognize it to be such. Another is because, well, I finally have a good idea. (Okay, I had a good idea with the other one, but this is a better idea.) Yet another is that, well, certain life stuff just fits perfectly with the story! An idea about a world of liars, and here I am living in Memphis, a.k.a., BLUFF CITY. Can you sense the perfection? Oh yes oh yesohyes.
2. Have I told you how anal I am these days? Surely I must have. Yessirree, I have the number of chapters plotted out. I have content outlines. I even have self-created, Gina-enforced deadlines for the chapters. So far I have met them. If all goes as planned, I will be done by November or December. I am sure there will be delays, however. Nevertheless, January at the latest, I hope.
3. I must caveat my use of "pomo" by stating that I'm
just using that term because it's often applied to the stuff I read, not
because I actively seek postmodern writing. Me, I couldn't care less what
the stuff I read is called.
I must also caveat my use of explanatory footnotes by noting that I do not
intend them to be a tribute to the writing I love. I do realize that
footnotes themselves seem to be a popular pomo technique, but that my use
of them derives more from being indoctrinated with the horrible (yet
lovable! to me) law review writing style, which involves the serious
(nonironic!) use of footnotes. Those who have seen my latest paper can
attest to the seriousness of my footnote-mania. Though those (okay, that
would just be Andy and the people in that class) who saw my seminar spoof
(that, er, my professor, bless her soul, didn't "get" and instead thought
was an amazingly well written memo, rather than a memo making fun of
memos) can attest to the dual serious/ironic nature of my footnote-mania.
I must caveat this entire explanation by saying that, see, this is an
illustration of how awful it is to feel compelled to provide explanations
for everything I state. So many digressions! Argh.
It is a good thing that my judge does not allow us to use footnotes. I am
slowly being weaned from using a mode of writing that is (to me)
excrutiatingly fun to read (in DFW, in Eggers, in O'Brien) but I am sure
that I cannot pull off myself without sounding gimmicky (and will thus
sound like Danielewski), even though that's what I do all the time in law
papers.