While reading the great Elie Wiesel non fiction novel "Night" (about his life in the holocaust), I came up with a book idea of my own. Why not try a fiction or non fiction, or possibly a combination of the two types based on a first person perspective. I was thinking why not tell the story as if I was a young child growing up in the Mae Sot dump. Doo-Aye the young girl I met the first day at the dump springs to mind, I have thought of her life in the dump often. What if I played her, wrote from her perspective. Telling the dump story from a 12 year olds viewpoint, she could tell her story directly about herself. What she experiences on a daily basis. Or maybe I could tell it from a young boys point of view. Not sure how much I would invent, how much would be based on my observations, how much on stories I hear etc.
Something else to think about, this idea will probably go no where, but who knows, it could also lead to a strong book.
Update* I started working on this just for fun. Some of the writing seems to flow naturally when I do not analyze and correct-change-adjust to much. When I get into breaking everything down it grinds to a hault and is quite boring and difficult. I think I need to work at relaxing and letting the words come out in a flow, then change things out on the rewrite part of things. Kind of fun to do this. At least it helps me get my mind off dad.
Here is the first paragraph, do not expect too much, my first try at this sort of thing. : )
The Life of Doo-Aye
Something else to think about, this idea will probably go no where, but who knows, it could also lead to a strong book.
Update* I started working on this just for fun. Some of the writing seems to flow naturally when I do not analyze and correct-change-adjust to much. When I get into breaking everything down it grinds to a hault and is quite boring and difficult. I think I need to work at relaxing and letting the words come out in a flow, then change things out on the rewrite part of things. Kind of fun to do this. At least it helps me get my mind off dad.
Here is the first paragraph, do not expect too much, my first try at this sort of thing. : )
The Life of Doo-Aye
I looked up, the small bird fluttered in and out of the
hole above my face, its wings made a soft flapping sound. It was not a pretty bird, black, small but it had joy in its voice, it sang and smiled down at me. I watched as it jumped in and out of
the leaves of the roof. Why can’t I sound
sweet like that? My voice is hard, too much like a boy. Aung my little brother says I
sound like Uncle Chit, maybe not the same as him but still too much like him
for a 12 year old girl. I want to be more sweet sounding like my black bird,
maybe she can teach me. I should tell you, my name is Doo-Aye and I like to
draw.
