A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Four-Hundred-And-Thirty-Eight

I think I want to try to find a way to just let loose and write a fun, silly piece of fiction.  Something just meant to be enjoyed and not as serious as much of what often comes to mind for me.  I want to focus on making something that is intended to be kind of delightful and that I would be eager to read myself.  I want to get to a place where I am enjoying the journey of the story myself, where it is unfolding about me and I am along for the ride to some extent and really having a good time with it.  Maybe I am just describing the kind of flow state that often comes when really invested in a piece of writing, no matter the nature of it, but I think their is something else here.  I think I am wanting to let go of some of the pretensions that hold me back, perhaps?  I don't know if that is accurate.  It probably is, but I don't like admitting to it.  Calling myself pretentious stings a bit, even if I have to acknowledge the truth of it, at least a bit.  I mean, I am drawn to intellectual games, to complicated and convoluted language.  The point is not, though, that I can't indulge those things if they come about, it is more that I just want to let myself play and find out where it takes me.  I am not certain what this will mean, but I think the key is going to be giving myself permission to just make a mess and not worry if it is going to become anything more than that, at least for the moment.  My experience writing fiction is far more limited than with poetry or non-fiction and this may provide a way for me to build up and practice those skills without feeling the kind of pressure that might stifle those efforts.

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