Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Radio Shack was full of whores. Nevertheless I thought I would stop in and see about a job. I'd just been laid off from the hot-air balloon factory where I'd worked for the last 78 years. By 2032 every seventh citizen was a prostitute, so to see a large group of them in the Radio Shack was nothing out of the ordinary.


Ok, stop right there. See what happens when I try to write fiction? Just four sentences in and already there's an unintended contradiction. The "nevertheless" in the second sentence implies that the narrator finds the presence of whores in a Radio Shack to be something out of the ordinary, something undesirable. But two sentences later the narrator says that whores in a Radio Shack are "nothing out of the ordinary". Argh! Fucking fiction. All these little snags to get hung up on. This doesn't happen with poetry. I don't have to worry about writing myself into a corner, since there are no corners to be written into.

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