When I first began writing in the early ’90s, I thought fiction was my thing. I’d never heard of narrative nonfiction, though assuredly I’d read it. In fact, I read plenty of top-level nonfiction to my son while he was young: riveting stories we just couldn’t put down. I think I have a list, somewhere, of pretty much everything we read. One book pops into mind: The Last Algonquin. Make a point to read it. And there were so many others. If someday I stumble across that list, I’ll post it.
Funny thing is, I didn’t really like fiction. High-quality children’s literature, yes. Could I ever forget Streams to the River, River to the Sea? Well, OK, I don’t remember the storyline all that well. But I could probably summarize it (badly) in about five minutes. And having brought it to mind, I shall have to read it again.
Note scene change—I just finished a re-read of Tony Horowitz’s Baghdad Without a Map and my, talk about blown away. I think it entered my life via my son … he was in his early 20s at the time and gave it to me to read. Now I shall have to remind him—hey, that’s one damn fine story. You ought to give it another go.
But. Back to fiction; that is, to writing fiction. I began poking through those old files and was dumbfounded—I barely remember half the stories I found. Yeah, they need work. But what doesn’t? Most I’d reformatted in Word files I can at least open, so I fool around with them now and then. Some, though, will need a savvy tech person to unlock them.
The weirdest among them? This folder: Queen of Beasts. Within it, these six files: About her. About him. About them. How I met him. Queen 1. Queen 2.
What the …?
I’ve thought up, down, and around those filenames. Can’t place them. Months have gone by. Still can’t place them. Presumably I’ll figure out how to hack them one of these days. And then? If they were worth the wait, I’ll tinker with them. But of course each one I open, I have to mess around with with.
Which is why I’ve posted just one. The others need to wait. Comments? As in … the transitions—do they work? That sort of thing. Meanwhile check back now and then. Maybe I’ll have dusted off a couple more.