Our writing relies on our perceptions, leading us down a bright or dark path if that’s how we see the world but and are infinite in variety. For instance in Dostoyevsky’s case appreciating and writing about appalling privation because he himself experienced it as a starving writer and Solzhenitsyn also as a state prisoner. Who can fail to be moved by the young man’s utter destitution in Crime And Punishment, or the Gulag convict fussing over his boots without which he would be a dead man walking?
However, there are also cases of a writer’s life being a stark contrast from her or his writing, such as Guy de Maupassant who wrote beautifully and auspiciously even as he lived a life of depression and ultimately wrote as his epitaph: “I have coveted everything and taken pleasure in nothing.”
We are a sum of our parts and at the same time we are a continuum, experiencing myriad states of life most often without even realizing it, with all aspects such as memories morphing into differing levels of appreciation. We forget most events and remember only a fraction, and we sometimes wish the two would transpose and we could forget that pedestrian remark dad made and instead remember something he said about mom when she was ill. If every single memory is still somewhere in our brain, until and unless a method for total recall is discovered we are forced to play with the cards we’re dealt; trudging through life with limited recollections that we can mine for our writing. A week ago I had a dream that I recognized as being a basis for a entire book as my previous books have been, but within seconds I forgot it and it’s clearly gone for good.
If we’re writing about a man whose girl friend has left him or vice versa, it helps to have some memories under our belt about amorous relationships. Writing blind about events with which we have no experience can still work if we have learned about them from observation or stories we heard from others, but it’s more problematic because more care must be taken to attain plausibility.
And ultimately our writing style will likely be the decider, such as the case of William Faulkner who gave up trying to mimic or emulate others and just wrote in his own consciousness stream and prose based on his experiences that eventually earned him universal praise and a Nobel Prize for Literature.
However, there are also cases of a writer’s life being a stark contrast from her or his writing, such as Guy de Maupassant who wrote beautifully and auspiciously even as he lived a life of depression and ultimately wrote as his epitaph: “I have coveted everything and taken pleasure in nothing.”
We are a sum of our parts and at the same time we are a continuum, experiencing myriad states of life most often without even realizing it, with all aspects such as memories morphing into differing levels of appreciation. We forget most events and remember only a fraction, and we sometimes wish the two would transpose and we could forget that pedestrian remark dad made and instead remember something he said about mom when she was ill. If every single memory is still somewhere in our brain, until and unless a method for total recall is discovered we are forced to play with the cards we’re dealt; trudging through life with limited recollections that we can mine for our writing. A week ago I had a dream that I recognized as being a basis for a entire book as my previous books have been, but within seconds I forgot it and it’s clearly gone for good.
If we’re writing about a man whose girl friend has left him or vice versa, it helps to have some memories under our belt about amorous relationships. Writing blind about events with which we have no experience can still work if we have learned about them from observation or stories we heard from others, but it’s more problematic because more care must be taken to attain plausibility.
And ultimately our writing style will likely be the decider, such as the case of William Faulkner who gave up trying to mimic or emulate others and just wrote in his own consciousness stream and prose based on his experiences that eventually earned him universal praise and a Nobel Prize for Literature.
His celestial companion was waiting for him
Precariously climbing a sea-side cliff near Big Sur, ten-year-old Joey Blake was as yet unaware that near his grasp was an object, so odd, mysterious and alien to earth that it would change his life forever and the lives of countless others in the next few astonishing days. Reaching up as far as he could for a handhold it was just there; it had subconsciously lured him, occupied his mind, and made him find it. It was like he was meant to see and discover this object of unimaginable power … the power to change reality.
Time travel and more
This young adult series of sci-fi fantasy novels begins with The Reality Master and continues through four other exciting and amazing stories about time travel and mysterious alien devices. Joey and the reader will face dangerous shadowy criminal organizations, agents of the NSA, bizarre travelers from other times and even renegade California bikers and scar-faced walking dead.
This young adult series of sci-fi fantasy novels begins with The Reality Master and continues through four other exciting and amazing stories about time travel and mysterious alien devices. Joey and the reader will face dangerous shadowy criminal organizations, agents of the NSA, bizarre travelers from other times and even renegade California bikers and scar-faced walking dead.
- Vol 1 The Reality Master
- Vol 2 Threat To The World
- Vol 3 Travel Beyond
- Vol 4 Missions Through Time
- Vol 5 The Return Home
- Vol 2 Threat To The World
- Vol 3 Travel Beyond
- Vol 4 Missions Through Time
- Vol 5 The Return Home
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Genre – Science fiction, Fantasy, Young adult
Rating – G
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