Yet again, another addition to my vault of 'Novels to be'. I've lost count of the rubbish I intend to be my 'first' novel ever. All of them lasted only several chapters ranging from 2,000 to 10,000 words. They're all different, has nothing in common with each other since I write them all in various state of moods.
This particular latest addition is as titled in the previous post, a 9 part tragedy. Haha. And what do I know about tragedies? Absolutely nothing really besides the assumptions I've made of how they might be like, or how they're supposed to be like. Still, I insist that there be 9 parts to it. Reason's undisclosed aside, I stick to this piece (like them yellow sticky notes) with 'HOPE' that in a year or two it'll turn into something discernible as reading material.
When I write it's neat how my world in-folds into another's that is the main character's. His or her's concern being mine, his or her's view being mine, all him or her at the same time all me.
So I introduce to you, Paris. Not hilton mind you. Just, Paris and Paris's a dude.
Adieu for now.
P.S: He's not French btw.
2 comments:
hahah pot tulis novel. nine parts, probably trying to emulate my (not yours) beloved dostoevsky.
i too have a novel waiting to be written. would probably be rubbish (as always), with no uh name for a character.
why paris? already i know he's going to be ghey..
Maybe. N ambeklah Dostoyevsky.
Oh nawww, he's not sissy. Why Paris? Because I think it's a beautiful name. All the romantic connotations attached to it~ Again, no he's not sissy.
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