I have been visited by a muse tonight. It is the moonlight.
If it has to be a story it cannot merely be a drama of daily proportions. It has to be something bigger than that. I could not, for the life of me, stand by and ponder the movement of characters from one mundane space to another. Doing the regular, bland things. Like mindless zombies, (or even mindful ones) it will be too much like every day. It'll be escapism.
Don't get me wrong. Everyday magic happens too. But I can't just do days and human drama. The emo, the angst, is too banal by itself.
Ok, I give up, I'm making my statements redundant.
The point is, the story has to be a fantasy.
It's not merely a genre, is it?
"Convince me, that this is truly love."
I am faced with a conundrum. Where do my characters settle in? The twist and turn of my queerly self fashioned archiac speech or the hundrum snap of modern diction? Or even, a whole new language thus an alien culture? (But then again I don't know very much of the theory of liguistics.) Both possessing unique charm. Both a form of colour.
Damn, sidetracked! I don't really know what the story is about anymore. Only the love is there. Maybe I'll dream about it... One could always hope.
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