Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Look at that by - (read ebook pdf .txt) 📖
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+ from where, acting on Alexandra’s “hic Rhodus, hic salta,” he was returning empty-handed.
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had gone past him, he didn’t feel the irresistible tug to turn his head and fixate on her distancing silhouette.
- Does this seem to you as valid reason for someone to start writing?
- There’s nowt so queer as folk.
- Silhouette, it’s not enough. Also write “and especially her bottom”.
- Don’t insist because, on my life, we’ll end up making an ass of ourselves.
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Chapter 16
Turning his back, however, to the energy-sapping task of mating in order to start writing was a sine qua non, given that simply shrugging off the nerve-racking worries of a couple would never be enough. Yet, to first start writing so that he would then really get into the writer’s role was not a prerequisite. The two went hand in hand. Provided he had many and important things to say. Urbi et orbi. And, indeed, he did. Or rather he thought he did, and that’s what mattered. And, by God, he would say it all, even if he had to, if necessary, pry it out of himself. Say it all - who? Babis, who when out with friends, if the group did not consist of less than two people, even one, not just any one of course, and ideally no one, would never speak up. The guy who, every time he’d attempt to tell a joke, would mess it up so badly that, by the end of it, it neither made sense nor was funny. Or was this, per-haps, the whole point? In writing, he would essentially be addressing each and every future reader privately. A reader, who, if nothing else, would not ignore him, would not interrupt
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