Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Big City

There is a lake in Central Park. There are a lot of lakes in Central Park, but this was the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassus Reservoir, and it was so almost perfectly still, reflecting like a nervous mirror. Every window we could see in it was gold against black water.

A fountain powered out of the middle of it; a thin, maybe fourteen-foot spike that almost looked frozen. Every fluid ounce of water churned the same. I wondered what it would look like inverted; if someone sank some physics-breaking thing into the water so there was just this bore hole in it.

It would look like this.

My mind was full of underground tunnels and haunted houses and nightmare stuff, because I'd just gone to see Neil Gaiman

My favorite writing advise from Neil was as follows.

"What [my narrative voice] does is say to the reader, 'I'm going to take you into dark and scary places and you're going to be frightened, but it will be okay, because I'm holding your hand'. And then I'll take your hand, and lead you off into dark and scary places. And then I'll let go of your hand and run away.

"This is a narrative tecnique."

On my trip to New York I also saw the Guggenheim Museum; navigated trains by myself successfully; had delicious sushi; saw a car parked at the end of a long line of traffic cones with  a traffic cone on top of it, as if it was trying really hard to make the other cones not notice; saw a loon diving and an egret and what may have been a grackle; heard a Real Live Journalist Who Writes For Time Magazine use the term "Marty Stu" and just assume everyone knew what it was and that it was a real word; and had pumpkin ice cream. 

And that was my city day.

1 comment:

  1. I approve of city days.

    *has never been to Central Park and needs to fix this* I also approve of physics-breaking park installations.

    That is awesome writing advice. And reminds me of the first third of Skinna's and my RP.

    The cool thing about New York City is that every time you go, you see something different and strange, and it's a differently strange thing every time.

    In conclusion, pumpkin ice cream is love.