patchwork

i was trying to cobble together a story.

that narrative writing class requires a manuscript-audition for a place in the class. i have quite a few stories that i could offer, mostly written (can it really be?) three years ago, the second half of my first year of college.

they are mostly finished short stories. perfect in length for the purpose. and i couldn't make myself hand any of them in. they're not me. not anymore. and in this one thing, i will not be lessened. i will not put myself in a box. not even if it was one that i used to call home.

so, instead i'm handing in three short disconnected excerpts from the novella i've been germinating in my head for a few months now. i write bits and pieces of it whenever i can pin them down. i'm not sure that this will get me into the class, but i can't muster up the wherewithal necessary to fake it.

it will be what it will, i suppose.
i can't compromise. not on this one.

hey, no one has ever called me sensible.
well, not for long anyway.

typecasting

oh, and the cover sheet to the manuscript asks us to list our favorite authors. i found myself at somewhat of a loss.
the prof. had already said that she didn't approve of "genre fiction: science fiction, mysteries, spy fiction, gothic romances" although we could write what we chose, of course. she said that, "the author must dominate the writing, not the other way around. genre dictates a recipe, it controls you. although there are those certain exceptions."

i understand what she meant of course.
but i quite like the feeling of being dominated by the writing, having it sweep me off my feet, take me goddess only knows where and then fuck me up against a wall. metaphorically speaking.

and i quite like genre fiction.
after wrestling with the notion of putting down Edmund Spenser, Italo Calvino and Margaret Atwood, (and not to mention fighting with the notion of putting down David Eddings, Anne Perry, Poppy Z. Brite and Judith Krantz), i finally came up with:

• Neil Gaiman
  
• James Baldwin
  
• Chitra Banerjee Divakarumi
  

i think that's quite a good mix, and describes pretty well the kinds of things i wish i could write. and i suppose that was after all the point.

(no subject)

as far as i can figure i need 9 credits this summer to get the hell out of this frozen wasteland by summer 2003. so that the boy and i don't die of exposure, not to mention the lack of people to associate with.

Rome is 6 credits (and $5000)
that means if i take 3 credits after returning, i should be ok.
unfortunately they charge $685 per credit for those, and there's only interest accruing loans available for financial aid.

argh.

i'm even boring myself with these problems.
somebody please solve them, so i can move on to something more interesting.