Call me a nomad, a vagabond, or a drifter. Or just generally homeless. At least I don't smell.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Africa in Journals
I filled a lot of
paper writing about my time in Africa.
Considering I've only managed to write in my journal a handful of times
in the three months I've been back (yes, three damn months) I was quite
impressed with my work. Look!
Seems like a lot,
yes? Well I was just reading Paul
Theroux's The Great Railway Bazaar. He
took a six month trek and he filled out six notebooks just like those! Way to take the wind out of my sails…
But what, anyway, do
I intend on doing with these tomes?
First I plan on typing them up. I
know, I know: why not type them up to begin with? There is something much more intimate putting
pen to paper. You feel like you really
created something. Take a picture and
impress me with anything you wrote on your computer. When I write I use ink, because there is no
taking back a thought after it has been born.
Plus typing them all up is to relive them. Walk down memory lane.
Second is completely
theoretical. I'd like to turn them into
a novel. Based on the two journals from
Italy and their current non-novella state, don't get your hopes up on fruition
of that idea. The hardest part? Coming up with new names for everyone! At the very least for the female characters
of the show. I was… more than a bit of
an asshole. I do apologize. In my defense, you met me at a very strange
time in my life… Anyway, the only names
I come up with sound fake: Sally or Larry or Gary or Mary or other names that
end in "y". You try renaming
your friends; it's hard to even think of them without their names! Ugh.
So, first step: type
them up. Second step: see if anything
interesting is there. Third step: pay
someone else to turn it into something someone might want to read? I really have no idea. Let's just start with step one.