So, I'm scared of writing fiction. As the lovely and honest
Abigail Ohlheiser pointed out to me a couple years ago, I am exposition-avoidant. I don't use it in conversation. I don't use it in writing. I also don't talk like most other people I know, which makes it challenging to construct convincing dialogue.
But when
Brian Cook and I decided to make a vintage design and cooking project, it occurred to me that a period-appropriate story might fit well. So I tried.
And where better to start, I figured, than a story about murder by scurvy?
Here it is.
2 comments:
I should figure out carriage returns at some point.
I felt the same way for a long time. People would encourage me to give it a shot and I insisted that I sucked at it. But now I think I'm actually better at fiction than what I used to do, which was a lot of polemical stuff.
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