Writing has always been my great passion.
As I guess I mentioned, I’ve always been writing. While feuilletons and columns and, of course, blogs were published, I wrote books for the drawer for a long time, and they often remained unfinished. And maybe it was good; writing like anything else needs some development. Although no writer can go without talent, in the end, it is always more a craft than just an art.
Many book writers project a large piece of themselves into their works. You know, desires, hopes, fall. They will write down their real adventures or just the dream ones, let their characters say what the authors should have said and did not say at the moment.
I’m the exact opposite. I enjoy writing fiction so I can enjoy it; the story and my characters are as far away from my real world as possible. Because, and tell me honestly, why the hell I should write about something I already know, what already exists, when, instead, I can create a whole new world. I can put the characters on an imaginary chessboard and start a story that I never know in advance how it will turn out.
It is said that in the author’s writing lessons, they teach you to layout your story, to make sure that the plot has all the necessary attributes; in short, such technical plans of the book, which, as you have done, all that remains is to implement it.
I can’t do this.
When I tried, for twenty pages, the characters did things their way as they evolved under my keyboard. Sure, you can blame it on the lack of talent if that pleases you. But I feel there is nothing, literally nothing such fabulous as when, for example, you describe an apple tree with one beautiful orange fruit on that tree. You have no idea why is that so, what a damned orange could possibly do on an apple tree, but you go with it. After several pages, or perhaps at the end, you found out that you wouldn’t be able to finish your story without that stupid orange. Not the way you want, anyway. Without the nonsensical yellow ball on the tree, where it doesn’t belong at all, it wouldn’t be possible to point out the plot and make sense to all those ready-made parties.
I love to be surprised by my own stories. Otherwise, where would be the fun in that?
I like uncombed style, sharp and often austere. No curls.
What type of style do you like?