Sometimes when I’m trying to find the microsoft word icon to pull up a new document I do get it mixed up with what it feels like to scrounge around for a piece of paper. I’m going to have my own website, soon, and I have seen the mock-up or whatever you call it for the blog page. (Mock-up is a technical term I don’t feel qualified to use.) When I imagine my voice in the blog it’s a little stiff and anxious (like this), the blog is a confessional (the world of the internet is my priest) and it is a diary (the world of the internet is my projected self). I might post a few entries from my actual childhood journals, which I addressed after a great deal of thought, to “?”. I think I’m finally old enough that nothing from childhood is embarrassing, because it’s from childhood, the pod of me—it’s not embarrassing because of the way things are turning out. A babysitter saw that I wrote in journals and bought me one that said on the cover in iconic bellbottomed 70’s font “I’m okay and getting better!” (I did not use it but I had a hard time getting rid of it even though I did not like that babysitter.) A writer horrified me at a reading I went to a few months ago by saying that “autobiography is the quest literature of our time.” The incredible journey up my ass. Can I say that on this radio?
Lucy Corin is the author of the novel Everyday Psychokillers: A History for Girls (FC2) and the short story collection The Entire Predicament (Tin House Books). She's working on a novel and an assemblage of 100 apocalypse stories, currently strewn about the web.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment