>To most writers, fiction is more about dulling down the truth than it is about inventing the >incredible
It is so true bc all those amazing stories that did happen to me were way more intense experiences than I or anyone could make them out to be with any description/telling... Maybe when I tell them to my friends, I can make them almost as grapping as they were to me at the moment, but it's always a bit less... And even less when those are written down for strangers.
Just sth all of us have to accept in order to do the writing with less regrets, less hesitation or less anxiety.
If this isn’t what I’ve been talking about than— I dunno! Hahaa. This is why, as a kid, no one believed me when I told “stories!” I swear, I couldn’t make up the things that have happened to me!
For example… I was listening to a podcast where Chuck was being interviewed and he mentioned the box of porn that would be just left in the middle of the woods— then, other people had that in common. I was one of them! I thought, how strange is that to have that found item in common with other people! However, the story attached to it and how it changed lives of us kids that found it— that part wasn’t fun and kindah ruined all our Summer and was the end of our innocent childhoods. Later, I found out who it belonged to and how it got there. Some of it had been burned and the kids were even trying to save some of those burnt images of naked people… seriously, you can’t make this up!
Thank you for bringing this up—- also, how WOULD anyone believe you if you said that?! I get it!!
Thanks for giving us more diamonds.
Also, I’m reading my first Tom Spanbauer novel, “The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon.” One chapter in… wow!
Wow, man! This club was certainly worth the forty bucks. Pretty sure I’ve mentioned that Tarantino snuck a copy of Genet’s absurd and existential masterpiece “Our Lady of the Flowers” among the pulps on Cliff’s bookshelf in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” (love those footnotes!). As a six year-old I met Rex Trailer, a somewhat well-known screen cowboy and the host of a Halloween parade, partly because my mom used to babysit for his offspring. I was in a homemade “wolfman” costume that inexplicably garnered a prize and, to this day, assume some sort of favoritism was involved.
More chapters for Stranger Than Fiction.. one of my Top 3 faves of yours!!
>To most writers, fiction is more about dulling down the truth than it is about inventing the >incredible
It is so true bc all those amazing stories that did happen to me were way more intense experiences than I or anyone could make them out to be with any description/telling... Maybe when I tell them to my friends, I can make them almost as grapping as they were to me at the moment, but it's always a bit less... And even less when those are written down for strangers.
Just sth all of us have to accept in order to do the writing with less regrets, less hesitation or less anxiety.
Looking forward to it.
I’m filing everything under “Uncanny” these days.
If this isn’t what I’ve been talking about than— I dunno! Hahaa. This is why, as a kid, no one believed me when I told “stories!” I swear, I couldn’t make up the things that have happened to me!
For example… I was listening to a podcast where Chuck was being interviewed and he mentioned the box of porn that would be just left in the middle of the woods— then, other people had that in common. I was one of them! I thought, how strange is that to have that found item in common with other people! However, the story attached to it and how it changed lives of us kids that found it— that part wasn’t fun and kindah ruined all our Summer and was the end of our innocent childhoods. Later, I found out who it belonged to and how it got there. Some of it had been burned and the kids were even trying to save some of those burnt images of naked people… seriously, you can’t make this up!
Thank you for bringing this up—- also, how WOULD anyone believe you if you said that?! I get it!!
Thanks for giving us more diamonds.
Also, I’m reading my first Tom Spanbauer novel, “The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon.” One chapter in… wow!
Wow, man! This club was certainly worth the forty bucks. Pretty sure I’ve mentioned that Tarantino snuck a copy of Genet’s absurd and existential masterpiece “Our Lady of the Flowers” among the pulps on Cliff’s bookshelf in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” (love those footnotes!). As a six year-old I met Rex Trailer, a somewhat well-known screen cowboy and the host of a Halloween parade, partly because my mom used to babysit for his offspring. I was in a homemade “wolfman” costume that inexplicably garnered a prize and, to this day, assume some sort of favoritism was involved.