Namely, this video.
When I’ve talked before (to myself, to Jeoffrey, even to other people) about the difference between writing fiction and writing plays, this is the battle I’ve set up:
In fiction, I’m trying to make the unreal seem real.
In plays, I’m trying to make the real seem unreal.
In the video above, what’s happening is the presentation of the non-scary as scary.
I’m not sure why I’m interested in such endeavors. I suppose it’s because I’m in love with the power of the imagination, and such combinations above are like the best metaphors – they force the brain to see what, usually, would never be seen.
In my fiction, I’m especially keen on trying to create situations that are outside the norm or present common experiences in a new light. To be specific, I’m thinking of horror.
It’s not that I’m dreaming of creating “horror” that no one has seen before, but in creating horror that I find scary, and trying to put that fear into words. Often, this fear is something innocuous writ strange.
A letter in the mail that’s from you, written in your hand, but you never wrote it.
An ant emerging from your skin.
The sun never setting.
Those are all the splinters of bones of ideas, but that’s where the joy in writing comes for me. What drives me in writing is making those snippets seem plausible, expanding them into worlds that – in order to exist – follow from those snippets, and fashioning the whole around an interesting plot.
Of course, I’m not sure that I’ll ever be able to compete with Premonition’s scary newspaper.
AHH! IT’S HERE!
p.s. this is a (long-distanced) companion piece to this earlier post, found here.