Thursday, July 29, 2010

Ain't talkin' about love

Woe is me: I've had to abandon another story. This time it wasn't for lack of ability or inspiration. Rather, it was sick-and-tiredness of kitschy, cutesy love tales.

Yes; I admit it. I've got a weakness for love stories. And not dark, brooding tales of the unrequited, long lost, or kissing-cousins type, either; not even good-old-fashioned harlequin romances. Just plain, positive, happy-go-lucky love stories.

I suspect this has to do, in no small part, with the fact that I have shared many years of love with a wonderful partner in a stable relationship. Though my outlook on many aspects of life is cynical and jaded, my opinion of love is pristine and, I'd even dare to say, salvific. What this adds up to is that, since my life is not a sorrowful dirge, I just can't write sorrowful dirges authentically.

But now I've had enough. I was smack in the middle--veritably thick in the heavy--of a boy-gets-girl sci-fi romance, when I threw my hands to my hair. "I need swearing! I need killing! I need evil brewing, plotters plotting and guns-a-slingin'!" So that's just what I did. The love tale got shucked into the "TO DO" folder--a.k.a. the Abyss of Attempting--and I cracked open a fresh document on the word processor. I immediately started spouting profanities and vile iniquities onto its previously unmarked surface.

*Sigh*... maybe it's only a phase.

-bn

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