Below are some snippets of things from the novel I’ve been working on. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I fail my creative writing classes because I’m busy working on a novel?
Anyway, the novel is sort of a fictional travelogue across an LA that is only half real. LA is a great settling for that because LA is really only about half real most of the time anyway. The novel is both prose (which I admit is very raw at this point) and poetry (which is not just raw but would have gotten me stoned in an earlier age). Below is a section that occurs as the narrator and his (Dr. Who-esque) companion, Viv, leave the Getty Center and head into the Valley. In a fake travelogue I think it is important to be able to distill history into fast little narrative bits. I’ve written several of these so far but I especially like this one. I know it is going to require a lot of tightening up, but hell, you try to write one and then come talk to me about tightening up when you’re exhausted.
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