Writer StatementI agree with John Gardner that the writing of fiction is the "creation of a vivid and continuous dream." To write, one enters this dream state and allows one's characters to inhabit one's being and to speak through one. My fiction influences are diverse and range from 19th-century traditionalists like Henry James, Edith Wharton and George Gissing to 20th-century modernists like James Joyce and Virginia Woolf and postmodernists like Donald Barthelme. The Decryption of Floriform X -- This short, illustrated fiction was written on Twitter circa 2008, each tweet numbered to keep track. The God of Wind and Air -- Unfinished sequel to Decryption, written collaboratively on Twitter. The Manuscript of Jacob Hall -- Why write fiction? What is it "for"? |
Saturday, December 16, 2006The Mirror: Mementroping
Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: In wonderful blue cyberspace! W: That is a very chipper opening! M: I could at least give you a pat on the head. W: Don't you dare be so patronizing! M: True, but I said, "Be on guard," by implication. W: I guess I missed that part. M: A character of the imagination that, Godlike, takes on the intense reality of everything in one's consciousness? W: That is too intense for the present moment (or memento). M: Of course, of course. W: Now you are back on track, modeling peer recognition. M: There are a number of Fragonards at the Frick Museum in New York City. W: And we will see them together. M: (All nod) W: I didn't know there was a Fragonard grouping here in our midst! M: Are my eyes the tiniest part of my body? W: Who cares (or who cards)? M: All right. W: You are amenable? M: Timothy Leary wanted a new kind of client, an hedonic one. W: Or an anhedonic one, or opening? M: Not on purpose. W: By mistake, then, an opening to a new transverse prevails. M: Oh, there are certain and particular things I don't want to tell you. W: But those are the very things I wish to pry out of you. M: I do like swimming, but only in clear, beautiful lakes. W: You can't be that fussy in this man's smarmy army. M: That is too intense for the present moment (or memento). W: Mementroping. M: I guess you're not studying mathematics. W: No, not anymore, how did you guess? M: You can't be that fussy in this man's smarmy army. W: The army of mathematicians swarms ever onward. M: Only one, sad to say. W: There's three mathematicians on Numbers, surrounded with a roseate glow. M: I am not ready to sign a contract. W: A TV contract? M: Neither am I. W: Are there more than one of you? M: Aren't you going to read them? W: I can read a first read of TV-drama scripts with them, or else the Riot Act. M: My points of reference get to be familiar. W: Mathemetricians like Poindextrousers of reference. M: Is it a secret, the size of your lawn? W: My lawn handkerchief? M: That's my choice. W: I guess it's better than the burlap handkerchiefs so prevalent around here. M: Exactly. W: Well, gotta go. M: I take a deep breath. W: Bye! M: Closing in 3 seconds ... Goodbye! Labels: chat robot |
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