I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE
I never really enjoyed reading Hemingway, forgive me guys for I have erred. I dislike the dry dialogue sessions when he, the author could easily have told me what the characters said and took me to the real fun, the journey into the depth of their psyche, rather than leaving the whole trip to the reader’s whim.
The point is not that everyone has the right to read a story and take the journey into a character’s psyche in one’s own terms but it is the difficulty involved in convincing the reader of doing so. Perhaps, it was OK with Hemingway, not with me. I mean, the reader’s right to interpret a story in whatever way one wants it, will remain unquestioned until the reader chooses to be otherwise.
The times that I live in, demand a different narrative sensibility. One that is short, fast, and to the point. People have no time for subtle analogies. I don’t know if I achieved that in my latest short story; saying is one thing, doing another.
I would like to get your feedback on my new short story named “My Muse and I on a November Morning”.
My new short story is a flash fiction with word count a little shy of 1500. I hope I don’t imitate Hemingway in this story. I never wanted to. Please do tell me, if you feel that way. Or whatever way that is. Any feedback is essential for the artist in me.
One of my friends, Stephen Boka read this short story and told me this: “Your story made me wonder: isn't it enough for the writer's inspiration to coalesce on paper or is publication the only way to vindicate oneself? Writers always seek approval and vindication through being published but maybe the journey is more important than the desired destination.” [Facebook]
As Stephen suggests, the story is about writers, about the art of writing, and about journeys that we take in our lives, and our destinations.