Wednesday, April 27, 2011

All Aboard

I've had it.

I'm moving.

From now on, I'm living in Fictionworld. Specifically, Genre-Fiction World. Reality sucks. Even when it's not messy, when mean people aren't going blithely on without suffering any consequence for their hubris, it's boring. Who has to fill out all that paperwork—same stuff again, in detail—in fiction? (Unless it's a funny time loop thing). In Genre-Fiction World, however much it things suck for a while, the people I'm rooting for win. The meanies are snarkily handed what' s coming to them, and if it's well-written, the boring parts are all edited out. There's no sitting at traffic lights or waiting through commercials. It's story, all the time.

That's where I need to live. I realized that the two things I like best about my vocations are telling stories (as a writer, duh) and talking about stories as a teacher. It only makes sense to move into the storyworld full time. It'll be like living at Disney World, without so many kids. If Jasper FForde can send Tuesday Next into the Well of Lost Plots, why can't I go too?

In preparation for my move, I only asked for two things for my upcoming birthday: Sims Medieval (so I can create my own fiction kingdom) and a T-shirt with one of my favorite quotes about fiction on it. Ray Bradbury said, "You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." C'mon. Read that again. And if you're not a writer stick the word fiction in there.

Apparently, the meanies are even out for what's in our heads, as if creating stories of people sharing their bodies and finding love was something bad to begin with, but those are the people who've got the problem separating fiction from reality. I'm sure you all saw this nonsense. As a fellow tenth-grade English teacher with twenty-five years of experience who also happens to write racy novels, I say to Judy May "Go, sister. To hell with those vicious dried-up shrews. I hope this epically unethical, so-not-news article lands you on every best seller list."

Is it any wonder it's more fun here in Fictionland? C'mon. Get packing! There's always room for more.

For those of you kind enough to leave some words about Peter on the last blog, I'm sorry I missed those comments. For some reason they didn't show up in my feed while I was on vacation. Peter is an irredeemable dick, but the sneaky arrogant bastard has his reasons and belief in what life should give him. He's never had to face the consequences, so why can't he keep getting away with it. He's been really interesting to write.


Lori W. said...

I am so joining you. Real life is infested with stupid.

I call dibs on one of the beachfront cabins!!

L. A. Witt/Lauren Gallagher

K.A. Mitchell said...


"Infested with stupid" I love that. I'm using it today at work.

No need for dibs in Fictionworld. The beachfront is endless. :)


Maia Strong said...

I'm thinking of the guy in a Douglas Adams novel ("Dirk Gently's..." maybe?) whose house was inside out because he lived "outside the asylum". I think it's probably a neighbourhood in Fictionland. Either way, I'm coming for a visit. A long visit.

K.A. Mitchell said...

That scene left a permanent impression on me too. Man, he was brilliant. Stupid heart attack!

Pia Veleno said...

I'm on my way to Fictionland. I already have a time share so let's make it a permanent residence.

Douglas Adams, oh yes, it's that time of year to reread Hitchhiker's. I always love to see fellow fans out there. The asylum was a great scene!

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