the search for what it was really all about.

Everything I have ever written and will ever write comes out of my own mind. I cannot write anything beyond my own thoughts. My memories and experiences, then, are the most important things I own. Along with language. But that’s not the point right now.

In order to write stories we delve past the names and events and dates to see what it was really all about, to see what it meant then and what it means now. And once we’ve worked it out, or while we’re working it out, we wrap it all up in a separate package. We tell the story with different names and events and dates. Perhaps one lot of events happened over six weeks in an Australian highschool but the other will happen in Paris over a few years. Or vice versa. But at the centre of it all will always be the truth; the essence of what it was all about. At the centre of it all we’re reaching out and asking if others will join us.

Will you be brave with me? Will you learn with me? Will you suffer with me? Will you dream with me? Will you understand me?

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One response to “the search for what it was really all about.

  1. The picture goes really nicely with the blog.

    I agree that stories tend to be a culmination of events that occur across your whole life. You might get an idea for a silly story at age 15, and have a weird conversation inside your head at age 20, then imagine a few things that would make for an interesting plot at age 25… then at age 30 you might make them into a story.

    You can never see all the ingredients in their raw form really. But you know it all came from you 🙂

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