Everyman as Artist
Good/Bad/Ugly...
Look at any artist and learn that early on, they worked from life.
Only later did they branch out.
This is true of actors, musicians and rock stars, painters and novelists. Some began writing letters or doodling in class of joking at parties and bars. I don’t know about your life, but mine is a series of snapshots. Each written piece is that of an isolated pool, calm or tempestuous.
It has never been a cascade, the way a Dumas novel is an irresistible cascade from one to the next. Nor has it been a movie: everyone visualizes their own life as a movie casting themselves as hero.
To be either, there must be a plot, but none of us knows what our own plot is, has been or will be...
Does it resemble another a prior, well-known narrative obviously cribbed from the Bible or Shakespeare or the most recent successful ‘net influencer?
To find a plot, if we look within, it is a short, boring exercise, filled with humdrum characters doing the usual thing.
Some live as if awaiting something or someone. Others are off in a thousand willy-nilly directions that ultimately lead nowhere.
They say there are no new plots, only recycled plots.
But if you look within deeply and carefully enough, you may find something novel that could be developed.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it…