Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Been writing hard of late, and when I start writing like that I tend to let the blog slip, which is no great loss, but I like playing here, not as much as writing stories, which is about the one thing I like doing most.

I've been working on two stories at once, which isn't too much as I'm actually always working on lots of things at once, but there's a hierarchy, the things that are just interesting sentences, the stories that are breathing, and the stories that are yelling in my head. Got two serious shouters.

Ones what I like to call my voice stories – because they're mainly about the voice, you know, the voice. They're really just stories in which the character chatters, and if the voice works they work, and if it doesn't well, you know…

The other is just about the bleakest thing I've ever written, and it's hard going, but compelling (for me at the writing stage, no promises on the reading front, yet) but it's dragging me on 'cause its terrible as all hell, but there's an odd beauty in it, and that's what's making the story interesting. And it's stretching me, well it feels like it is. Though of course stretching is no assurance of success, and sometimes these sorts of stories are merely steps towards the stories that work.

Fingers crossed, eh.


Miss D said...

Trent has a blog! So the rumours were true. I hope the dark and broodiness doesn't make you feel too bleak. Have you read The Road? Imagine writing that. Makes me want to write stories about puppies. xxx

Trent Jamieson said...

Hey, Miss D!

Now that people I know are reading this thing I'm going to have to reduce the writely wank-quotient considerably.

I love your and Miss T's furtabulous blog, inspired by the Road I now see, which I have read and yes, its bleak, bleak, bleak, and very ashy, far too much ash for my liking(that's the Road, not the blog).