what's fake and what's real?

<email to a girl i recently started seeing>

"i'm gonna do a blog post on www.sixgreatbooks.com tonight.  think i'm the only one who hasn't posted yet.  i'm looking for blog ideas.  what topics are you curious about? THAT'S what i want to write about"

<her reply>

"what most piques my interest about what you do--what i wonder and often think about is how, as a fiction writer (but with real-life intermixed) you combine the two in your head and then translate it onto paper."

<my response>

damn good question.    

i mean, it's hard for me to remember, cuz i've been working on my novel a long time, so everything's kinda blurred in my head.  

but basically, what happens is this:

i'll be living life--doing laundry or drinking coffee or walking--and BOOM, my head will switch from normal-brain to spacey-brain.  

i mean, just like THAT.  some memory will pop up.  i'll see somebody on the street that sparks my imagination.  some beautiful girl.  or i'll smell malt liquor.  or the sunlight will bowl me over.  or the clouds will take me away.  or i'll be awed by a law firm lobby painting...ANYTHING.  

the point is that my brain shifts into a different zone.  it's a far away place where ideas are cozy and everything has MEANING. like heaven would be.  where every gesture and button and morsel of life is beautiful.  and heartbreaking.  and people feel DEEPLY. they love deeply.  hate deeply. struggle deeply.   

this world is populated by people i know; skewed versions of people i know; people i don't know; people i think i know but actually don't know, etc...  

the logic of this world is sometimes true-to-life, but sometimes not.  the world is more shadowy than the "real world" is.  it's like a movie with dim, mysterious lighting, but vivid colors and close-up faces and sweat and emotion.  it's like making love.  

so, i take what's in this world and write about it as directly as i can.  i try not to muddle what i see, else i screw the whole thing up.  i try to be conduit, not conductor. 

sometimes what i see in the dim world are actual events from my past. other times they're wild, inaccurate versions. other times they're just totally from mars.

when i write, i'm pretty much a zombie.  meaning, my "brain" isn't really on.  it's all just like i'm in a dream or inside a cloud.

anyway, this is a long email, and i'm probably muddling matters more. does THIS answer your question?  

dunno.  i'll think about it some more and get back to you if things become clearer.  ;-$

-ddb

<end of email>

posted by david daniel bonck