An Experimental Note

Good morning, everybody, it's good to be back again, whilst also the Sydney winter seems to have ended, allowing of more play. This week we are up to the sixteenth story in Aberrant, entitled, A New Home. This story was a bit difficult for me to write, and is a good example to show you all how I come up with a story. After all, this story was written just to fill in the scheduled hours of writing, on a certain day. 
     This story began with an idle note in my Moleskine pocket notebook: 'An aqua coloured leaf, obviously spray painted, was the only thing disturbing the pristine pool.' Thus, one day during writing hours, whilst going through my Moleskine, I decided to use this note as an opening line. I then outlined its introduction a bit more, outlined a middle, and outlined the end. Then I got out my laptop and just wrote out the first draft of the story, using the outlines as a guide. Yet I was just filling in the hours scheduled for writing, so the tale felt a bit unnatural in the telling. I then, like all my stories, put it away for two weeks, after which I began editing it, at two hours per day over three days. Any more editing than that tends to drive me somewhat balmy.
     Practically all of my stories over the past several years have begun from a note in my Moleskine notebook, which I always, whilst awake, have on my person. Each writing session begins with taking out this notebook, and then writing random sentences, or old memories, or conjectures, or something experimental. Once I have something that intrigues me, I begin expounding upon it. This week's story's genesis was from an experimental note.
     Anyway, these days, after many years of practice, I have got writing short stories down to practically an automated routine. Sometimes I even think that it's too sinfully easy. But still, it's good when things come easy.
     

A Good Time

Well, hello again, everybody. I think winter has once more left Sydney. Thank God! Anyway, now we are up to the fifteenth story in Aberrant, entitled, Luna's Grace. This story I wrote as both something very fun to write, like last week's story, as well as something very serious. Let me explain.
     One day, several years ago, as a result of sharing some wine with friends, I thought it would be fun to write a story where a man had a torrid, and tactile, relationship with Luna, the Moon. In fact, I thought, wouldn't it be fun if we wrote it to be pornography for women. It certainly seemed like fun.
     I also wanted to write this story to briefly reflect a brief, intense, and tactile, romantic relationship that I myself had with Luna. This relationship was another of the weird things that I experienced when I was homeless, and I feel that I have accurately described in the story the intensity of my passion with Luna. She's all woman.
     I still fondly recall Luna sometimes, and those times we had, and I am glad to be able to share the tale with others. After all, crazy or not, I had a good time.

A Funny Thing

Change continues apace. Now we are up to the fourteenth story, on another typically cold, Sydney winter day. At least it's bright. Anyway, the fourteenth story is entitled, A Momentous Epiphany, and I wrote it simply to give an unexpected wrench, not a twist, to a common saying. In this case, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
     As is common with my more romantic stories, this story draws on real life experiences with my desired belle, Elizabeth, and as a result all of my romances tend to be very similar. But I make no apologies for this as I write largely for therapeutic purposes. Writing about Elizabeth helps a lot.
     To the story at hand, though. When I was teasing out this saying, unwinding it in order to recast it anew, I was greatly surprised at how logical the whole thing was to reshape. How rational. For this reason, I suggest you not try the logic at home. Even I'm wary of it. The story though is just meant to be a bit of  fun, and I have been told that the very last line is very funny and piquant.
     There are a few such stories in Aberrant, stories written just for fun, and I still have fond memories of writing them. I love being a writer.