Dreams

Last night was a series of vivid dreams: one about losing a front tooth, one about a baby shower, and one about a game that was a cross between Scrabble and dominoes.

I would prefer less dreams and more restful sleep, please.

Noodley memoir thoughts

1. A long, long time ago, one of my writing instructors wrote in an evaluation that I was a very good writer, but not as good at talking *about* my writing. (Which was fine, she said, there were lots of writers for whom that's true.)

2. One of the reasons I like fiction is because I can just present a situation, a scene, and not have to elaborate upon it or explain it. That's nice.

3. I actually actively resist the temptation to shape my experiences into a narrative of any large sort. I think it's important (for me) to recognize patterns, but also not to impose other patterns or expectations. I'm happier and more flexible and durable that way. Also, I deliberately resist self-dramatization. Perhaps it's just a taste thing.

4. I am fond occasionally of the first-person voice because a) it lets the reader know where the narrator is coming from (no hiding behind a curtain of omniscience), and b) it allows the expression of, shall we say, flawed but interesting viewpoints.

5. Fundamentally, I already understand my own viewpoint. Exploring it is boring. Other people's viewpoints -- even if I made those people up in my head -- and how those viewpoints impact their actions, that's a lot more interesting to me.