While reading the book The Orange Eats Creeps, which is a surrealist novel about teenage hobo junkie vampires, I got this idea for my own surrealist story. I had often been saying that many of my stories were on the surreal side, but after reading this book I’ve found that to be false. There’s a certain strange tranquility to reading and writing surrealistic literature. You can just let your mind wander and not have anything confining it, such as structural narratives and the need for something to always make logical sense or be explained.
There’s a strange beauty to surrealism, and although at first I shot down the idea to write this, saying it would most likely melt my brain, I caved and actually wrote a few paragraphs of it and I’ve already fallen in love with it. I can’t classify this story as fiction, because it’s technically talking about personal events and memories and feelings from my own life, but I’m not sure I could call this non-fiction either, at least not the traditional non-fiction that people think of when they hear that. It’s a trip into the psyche, a venture into the mind.
Basically, this is a story about my memories, my nightmares, my daydreams, my unconscious thoughts. I think I’ll actually be posting it as I write it – yes, the whole thing. I’m not going to devote my time to this the same way I do with my other novels- that is to say, writing the whole thing in a certain amount of time. This is just going to be a side project that I’ll work on whenever I feel like I put something into it. I may get more and more done frequently, or it may be a long time before I get anything new into it. We’ll just have to see how it goes.
Either way, as I write it (and post it), I hope you’ll enjoy it, or get something out of it at the very least.