It’s all story

Stories are all around me.  When I am too immersed in my own, I forget that.  A deliberate search for a way out of myself has lead me to this idea.  I want to write a novel that’s not just about me, but something I can relate to.  Why I like the books I do.  Or why I don’t like the books I don’t.  (There seem to be less of those lately.  I’m hungry for story)

I’ve watched half a dozen movies in the last week.  Finished two, almost three books.  Been a part of at least one different group a day.  Collecting stories.  And each day when I come to the page to work on “my” novel  it’s a little less about me, and a little more about the experiences I have been accumulating, assimilating, composting.  (It’s also all metaphor)

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