A Winter Project

I had sharpened my pencil this morning and set off to write something I have never attempted before--a novel. I've written poems, dreams, and short stories before but because of forces of circumstance I had to shelve off my drafts. As I dusted off my notebook, it seemed as if a hardening crust of tardiness slowly cracked and peeled off. This one is no different from an experience of rebirth we encounter as some rare moment in our lives. With fingers primed and emotions unsealed, no date can ever be better than today. I'm starting off and typing away.



My novel will be about a person who's always in the middle, a criticism of the golden mean. Whoever says that being in moderation, on average, and in between will ever be mostly good will be challenged to think again. I am not putting up a cerebral fist at Aristotle in any way. This novel is mostly a self-reflective one. I hope the future readers will find it a good mirror, an enlightening surface where they can see themselves being caught in a life full of averageness and non-difference from many points of comparison. As I write, it is also my hope that I can provide some allusions to break the monotonous drama in life.