I don’t do fiction. While I have written fiction, I’m not a Real Fiction Writer.
Um. That is to say, I have never done completely original fiction (except one short story that I sold for an embarrassingly tiny sum of money and therefore do not own the rights to, which I regret immensely, because I rather fell in love with that story) but I have written a bit of fiction based on characters created by other people. Yes, fan fiction. Shut up.
The other kind of not-completely-original-fiction I’ve done is True Fiction, which is about real things that happened to real people, but it may not be 100% true in every detail. The lack of absolute truth might be due to my faulty memory, or it may be that I’ve embellished events a wee bit. More exciting for me, more interesting to read. Win-win.
Yesterday I had an idea for a different kind of story, and this morning I’ve started writing it. The center figure is my 14-month-old granddaughter. She will be joined by a couple of her stuffed animal friends. If this ends up going anywhere, family members will make appearances as well, I’m sure.
My inspiration was a snippet of a conversation at my daughter’s house, which reminded me of a book my mom had sent away to get for her, when she was little. It was one of those where you fill out a form with the child’s name and friends names and family names and some favorite things, and they get plugged into a pre-written-and-illustrated book and printed. Well, she enjoyed the heck out of that book, and the snippet of conversation the other day referenced that book. And well……I’d like to do something like that for my granddaughter, except I want to write it myself. And use my Average Art Skilz to do illustrations of some sort.
I’ve started the story already. Maybe I’ll post it here for critique, before actually making it into a book. Yes?