Saturday, January 31, 2015

On Writing

It's funny the boldness we employ when we begin to tell a story. What is the build up? The anticipation? We lose some of that in literature I think. We can't see the conversation between the listener and the speaker. There is a strange disconnect. But then again, we are being rather bold. As story tellers, we don't leave the option for conversation until after the story is done, and even then we bow out.

And it seems to me rather odd that narrators tend to take on a blandness of character when telling tales. Why on earth shouldn't the narrator be the liveliest player in the whole thing? After all, they are the person with whom the reader will invariably spend the most time.

I want to read a book that takes me to a place familiar and then shuttles me afar off. Let me make friends with the person I am trusting to recount the story.

It just seems odd is all. Even when the narrator exists inside the story, when they are narrating events from their own life, they still seem so distant and detached as the narrator like a different person. I can't ever remember a narrator seeming to laugh or feel pain or joy or anger. Emotionless. I believe it is time to remedy that. 

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