fiction research

Tonight after the writer's group I walked down to Aquatic Park to see if night fishing really was possible from down there and what you would see. Not only were there scattered fisher-people, the space provided both a perfect array of SF sights to comment on, a decent vantage point of at least the general area of town where Abeille sits, and a nice dis-location within the city...the groundedness of Coit Tower, the pull of the Golden Gate Bridge, the skulking Bay Bridge, touristy mishmash and the Ghirardelli sign...Perhaps I will revisit that scene before I send Misera out again.

More research to come. Who wants to ride carousels with me? Yerba Buena +/or Golden Gate Park. When is the last time you were on a carousel? What are the horses really made out of? What would you name them? What songs do they play? Does the floorboard creak as you walk down it? The only things that come to my mind in terms of carousels are Nantasket Beach, which is also the east coast beach in my mind (well, Coney Island too, and Newport) and Misquamicut.

Should I move my story that was workshopped tonight into the past, pre cell phones, and make use of the real fires that burned down the Oakland hills? Should I condemn the East Bay to burn again in a fictional future? Should I move the fires elsewhere, give the father a second home outside of town {it could be Tahoe. This summer. But then you wouldn't smell the fires, see the smoke, feel the ash in the air.}

I want my character to have a hobby he can do while tending carousel operations. didn't want him to have a sketchbook so I made him a poet. Should he not be a poet anyway, is it too cliche, and if he is not a poet what should he be. I don't want him playing guitar or being a D&D nerd. Introverted+alienated=what else?

and while we're talking poetry, my favorite part of the RADAR salon with Ali Liebegott and Robin Coste Lewis was when Michelle Tea asked if Sarah Vowell write an essay about something and Ali said that she thought it was from my favorite radio show. ever. instead.

Still looking for inspiration.
Got a haircut, made Chez Panisse reservations, and, oh yes! my review of The Hours is up here. Also, this word-collage, one of the pieces I really agitated for, should be read before it's taken down for rubbing up too closely against the grit of someone else's text.

Writers, dammit.