Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Sunday, 12 February 2012

Unpublished material by Anthony Burgess

I am sometimes ridiculously late getting the news. As I was googling for something else (an essay of Anthony Burgess on short stories), I discovered this article on the Guardian, from May 2011. 20 unpublished stories, including some ghost stories. Now that is interesting. I never thought my favourite writer had much interest in this genre. And I love a good ghost story, so I really wonder about his take on it. I hope they get published. This and The Worm and the Ring, which got stupidly censored.

Friday, 30 January 2009

Writer's block?

I thought about putting some music, but I have done that very often these days and this is not a music blog, after all. And I did not want it to be an excuse to pass time when I am in the middle of a writer's block. It happens from time to time: when I was writing my thesis (solution: read a book, repeat if necessary), when I was that creative writing course ten years ago (already), and so on. That said, I usually had a deadline to overcome this (it is always the best repellent). That was the case when I was doing creative writing, and I ended up producing a pretty good short story, set in a fancy restaurant, which I blogged about before. I got to find it again, it is somewhere on a floppy disk and in writing. I got a high mark on it and used to come back to it from time to time. It wasn't easy to please academics, let alone impress them, but I managed to impress my professor, so I was really proud. I have to find it again, if only to remind me that even young and naïve, I had writing skills which I probably still have.

How did I get over writer's block then, apart from the fact that there was a deadline? I remember working on it until very late at night, even though there were classes tomorrow. I think part of the way I managed to go through it is that there was a story to be told. I had rewritten The Last Supper in a kitchen environment, with the head chef as a Christ-like figure and cocaine as the spiritual connection/ideal/thingie that was making him go on and ultimately suffer and die. My main character was a waiter who was an ambiguous Judas (as Judas should be). When I couldn't find the right words, I was just trying to get the story going, and then I could rewrite the boring passages and give the strenght they needed. Basically, I need to get some good stories to write here, and the rest will go from it.

Friday, 23 May 2008

Last Supper

We are watching Real Hell's Kitchen at the moment, a documentary about the stress that goes with the restaurant industry, sometimes leading to alcoholism, drug addiction, etc. I used to be a dishwasher in a fancy restaurant when I was a student, I remmeber how stressful it could be, especially since I was the lowest form of life in the kitchen (but the pressure on the others was tremendous too). It inspired me so much that I wrote a short story about it in a creative writing course during my undergraduate studies, rewriting the account of Last Supper through the lives of a kitchen staff, where the head chef/Christ was dying of a cocaine overdose. It was very appreciated. I might "publish" it here one day.