Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Impossible Fantasies

I often fantasize about being a successful novelist. Sometimes, I'm the mysterious, hermit type like J.D. Salinger, adored and pined for by so many phrase-making aficionados. But in my fantasy, the world disgusts me, and like Salinger, I contemplate my self-righteous goodness in perfect solitude. Other times, I'm the marry-the-most-desirable-woman-in-the-country type like Arthur Miller. True, Miller was a playwright, and the woman he married was a complicated and needy hick named Norma Jean, but I don't care about those things. The man was still a writer who regularly humped Marilyn Monroe, and that's what counts.
I was on my way. I've completed one book, that, in retrospect, was written with youthful zest and just isn't flying. At the time, I was way too close to the subject, and now that I'm sane again, I've realized that I'll have to rewrite a lot of it. Sadness. I guess I should get on it though, since my other fantasy of travelling through time and imparting my god-like understanding of the natural world and universe to history's greatest thinkers isn't as realistic. I'm aware of the dangerous time-paradoxes, but with selfish disregard, the only one that concerns me is the one where I don't travel far back enough, and the people I encounter still know more than I, the average American, and I appear and am reviled as a futuristic moron. You have to consider these things when you're fantasizing. The other two books I started writing are about half done, but I know, deep in my wicked and apathetic heart, I only started them so I wouldn't have to face the dissatisfaction I felt and still feel with the first one.
The screenplay Roger and I started is still a viable option for success, but we haven't spoken as much since he tried to rape me at Bash's mancation a couple weeks back. No amount of exfoliating apricots has been able to scrub the smell of his hand from my face, and I fear seeing him will initiate a virgin panic attack. There I was, minding my own business, dressed in my pinkest and prettiest Sunday dress when Roger, not unlike "the Big, Bad Wolf" of nursery lore, skewed my pretty bonnet, tore my bra strap, and dirtied the frills of my favorite Hello Kitty socks. But I digress. What else can I do?

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

Back in the office but out tomorrow again, hope I can post it this time without problem; this is so far my favorite among all your postings that I read. Good luck!!
Eunyoung

Chris @ Maugeritaville said...

Well put, C.A. I myself aspire to be like Tim Dorsey or Carl Hiaasen. Wacky and convoluted, but enjoyable.

Keep at it, my friend!

Bash said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bash said...

You boys play nice at this Sat's event... if you plan on attending... don't want another incident with the opposite sex and elders around. Also Rog if you're reading, James will be among the guests as well so practice politics.

Chrissy said...

How very cool that you wrote a book! Did you ever hear back from the other three agents?

I aspire to write fluff about heaving bosoms and men with feelings. My books will be chosen for Oprah's Book Club and Nicholas Sparks and Danielle Steel will cry when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie buy the movie rights.

C. Andres Alderete said...

Thanks, Eunyoung. I'll be deconstructing my own words now to see what makes it the best.

Chris Mauger (Bash is also a Chris) If you like wacky, Nicholson Baker is a not so widely read jewel.

Bash, keep your filthy comments to Roger on Myspace.

C. Andres Alderete said...

I never heard back from the other agents, Chrissy. I targeted them 'cause there was a literary convention here in Austin that they were attending, but I was too broke to go.
My books will also be chosen for Oprah's Book Club, and I'll eventually win both Pulitzer and Nobel Prizes.

Sharon Reynolds said...

I am Oprah.

Chrissy said...

Sharon,
Can I be Gayle?

Anonymous said...

When I was a high school senior, I accidently read “Norwegian Wood” by Haruki Murakami, and literally fell in love with him. He was my absolute favorite during my college years. His book “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” was published, I believe, in 1995 when I was a college senior. After finishing that book, I started gagging with no reason, and I never read his fictions again. I heard that the particular book won him the Yomiuri Prize which I have no idea how prestigious it is since I am not Japanese. It must’ve been well written but I absolutely hated it and still hate it. Later his several essays reconciled my relationship with him, but still I don’t read his fictions.

It is “my” favorite. Maybe you should write something that I hate, dear, it might win you some prizes you wish!
Eunyoung

Awesome Sara said...

can;t you somehow be all those people. have multiple personalities and when you want to be you can be them. at least you picked good ones to immulate. besides being magic, i want to be something too. not a novelist bc my grammer is for shit and i cant spell either. something artistic, drunk, and mysterious. well... i got the drunk part down. 2 more traits to go!

C. Andres Alderete said...

Good point, Eunyoung.
Awesome, you don't need to know grammar or spelling. Editors keep us writers smart.

Panda Mime said...

I secretly aspire to be a writer. I've started at least 12 novellas. When I say start, I mean I've written 10 outlines, 1 character mind map and 1 opening inner monologue. All of them shit.
As for MC Hammer, I feel that if I watch that gem one more time I will be taken over by an incessant need to purchase bicycle shorts and do that shimmy/forward crab walk dance move all over the city. Let's spare the citizens that.

ticklishfromadistance said...

Exfolisting apricots. Lol. Great post.

ticklishfromadistance said...

Oh my, I type too fast. EXFOLIATING!

C. Andres Alderete said...

Ms. Mime, I'm impressed with your writing organization. I usually just jump right in with a theme, conflict, and resolution in mind, all of which change by the end.

C. Andres Alderete said...

Thanks for the compliment, Ms. TFD. I too type too fsat. Say that five times.

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