Don't Speak
What I talk about when I (almost) refuse to talk about what's going on this week.
All I’m saying is that when someone lists George Orwell in any capacity, including but not limited to recommending his work, attributing to him some insight that plagiarism by definition informs us is not his own, or listing a work of his among novellas or novels worthy of anyone’s time, my heart pees a little.
Like if there’s one thing that actually, literally, instantaneously causes a dip in my respect for someone, it’s respecting or reading or discussing positively George Orwell. Even if you use the word “Orwellian” in the most thoughtful nevermind, how thoughtful can the essay be if you used that word. Nevermind.
I’m not saying you should be happy about this, or feel compelled to celebrate it, I’m just telling you it’s true. Keep secrets from me, if you must. I had to get it off my chest.
You may have seen me tweeting about my WIP as it pertains to the state of the world and the suchlike.
Other than the fact that absurdism is difficult not to write but to properly convey in an absurd, destabilizing, psyche-consuming society such as ours, I do so love this project.
She wrote two days ago, when she intended to carry on and talk about Absurdist Dark Comedy and how much she adores what the voice allows—and then she randomly came up with two new WIP concepts in as many days. One of which isn’t as much mental presence/preoccupation because it’ll be co-written (sh, I know, shhhhh) and therefore there’s a lot more that’s TBD about the storyline. The other, though—the one I came up with today? Has already been the subject of an email to my agent.
Which, fine. Even though I like to say I only write one thing at a time, I am a fantastic liar. I even fooled myself, and then I recalled that I wrote like 2/3 of Cherish Farrah before I had to stop and completely draft So Many Beginnings so like. I don’t remember my own life, children.
But, honestly. Last night I woke up and had to write down a brief rundown of some events in the Absurdist Dark Comedy wip (shout out to my Kindle Scribe, y’all) and I just knew today was gonna be another delicious writing day. And then BAM. Out of the orange colored…purple-striped…pretty green polka dot skyyyy (these are song lyrics), the new new wip idea decided to hit me with a first line. (Or a first first line. Like the first one I’ll write, not necessarily the forever first line.)
I will just say that, tone-wise…it feels like a more direct Cherish Farrah follow-up?
So. Y’know. Do with that what you will.
This week saw my work being involved in two circumstances of fraud or copyright infringement. What’s wild about this is how celebrity culture (a demon, if we’ve not gone over this before) is wrapped up in the gaslighting creatives endure for daring to defend their intellectual property from theft. People are committed to proving themselves insanely stupid and disingenuous, but lemme just say this: it will never not be galling when people who hold patents pretend not to understand copyright and ownership. FOH.
