Would it be a pale fire, or a raging fire?

Love children and how they are handled, or Hamlet's dilemma which is kind of a cool way of looking at it.

Given how Lolita was treated and manipulated by popular culture, maybe Nabokov didn't want Laura treated the same way. I could understand that. Putting myself in his shoes, I think of how I would feel if someone found writings I didn't want public. I sympathize with that. But this is Nabokov, not me, and I would love to read whatever it was. Nice literary controversy. Like the writer's strike, it makes me happy that sort of thing is getting wider exposure, for people who wouldn't notice otherwise.

In other news I have scheduled a few things that I am going to do. A certain poem that I workshopped for writing group, I am going to actually think about submitting it. Maybe. We shall see. I'm not brave. I get what Dmitri is feeling. Be brave enough to make the right decision, when you don't know what that is.

A certain willingness to let it fly and see what happens is freeing of course, and [insert screams of doubt] then you will never know if you don't.

Have a great Sunday!

Braiding that takes years

I just wrote the most broad outline for the rest of the story I am writing. I dare not yet call it a novel, bad karma or something. It is really bare, but I will trust that it will be filled in nicely as time, and my inspiration work together to help. I do trust that. Hey, it has been three years now, and it is still filling in. Like pie. LOL It doesn't have a strong ending yet either, many many threads to braid together so I am hopeful. >30K and counting. Or not counting.

One character, Reverend Tithe, seems to be forgotten. Maybe I should give him a gun or something. He will be useful as this moves along, giving solace and advice. I will put him to work soon, oooh, like Nabokov who called his characters galley slaves! That's the ticket! ::lashes whip::

Writing gives you a very powerful feeling. Surprising me, that.

Have a good one!

Awake and scribbled

Lincoln Writer reminded me that this quote from Nabokov is one of my favorite ever!

It is certainly not then - not in dreams - but when one is wide awake, at moments of robust joy and achievement, on the highest terrace of consciousness, that mortality has a chance to peer beyond its own limits, from the mast, from the past and its castle tower. And although nothing much can be seen through the mist, there is somehow the blissful feeling that one is looking in the right direction.

That is how I wish I could write, with that beauty and that vision. And while I am on inspiring quotes, these by Jack Kerouac aren't so shabby either.

Have a great evening.