Once upon a time, this body held an aspiring literary storyteller, desperate for all those things that Creative Writers yearn for: to be published, to find new forms of the written word, to be incisive and persuasive and poetic and articulate across all landscapes of language and idea. It lasted for a few years -- right up until I got distracted from it, of course, which is how things tend to go for the spiritually restless.
But in all my subsequent output, there's still a little storyteller, trying to express something... every critique, every design, every photograph, every video is touched by the hand of that fabulist, who's still trying to process the world into a bunch of narrative arcs.
This blog is going to be the voice of that little storyteller. Whenever that narrative voice needs an outlet, it's going to use Bad Fancies to express itself. The result will be a universal accompaniment, a continuous side-project of fragments and half-fulfilled big ideas, probably full of unfinished stories and undeveloped essays. There will probably be enough autobiographical material mixed in to make you, the reader, a little uncomfortable, because who wants to be the audience to a constant stream of badly-edited disclosure?
Once, when I thought that my life's work would be literary, I would aggressively cull ideas from that little narrative voice, that storytelling homunculus in my brain. I would pare down and temper his suggestions mercilessly, only allowing the most promising to rise up into actual products. Things have changed since then... whereas I once demanded the world of that little voice, I now value every note of his diminishing song. This blog is a place for that stuff to go, lest it all disappear into the black hole of inhibition and omission.
As a side-note, you can see a breakdown of all my work at Miksimum.
You can subscribe to Bad Fancies here.
You can subscribe to one aggregate feed of everything I do here.