from forgotten ages

I decided today to take apart and old novel, or will do so sometime soon. My second novel, Echoes. I like it a lot but it’s also terribly flawed and so I’ve always planned on doing nothing with it, but I randomly was thinking about it on my drive home today and think I could recontextualise it into something interesting. By using the imaginary writer I’ve been interviewing for a while, I’m going to make it a different kind of novel, sort of go all Pale Fire on it and see how that turns out. The novel, as is, is rather short, about 40,000 words, so I could probably add another 20,000 in criticism to it to make it this other thing, this cool and weird postmodern critique of myself and art as well as the adventure story it already is.

Also, figured out a way to frame my novel inspired by Justin Bieber, so I think that might be the next one I get to.

Been so exhausted since going back to work. It’s terrible. And so I didn’t get any writing of the novel yesterday and I’ve been to busy yet today but I’m starting right quick. Also, that’s coming together nicely in my head. I figured out a way for it to go, a direction in which to grow.

Chelsea and I have found a way to see each other soon, too.

So things go well, yes.

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