Audrey's Bio + Image + Response

BIO:

I am a prospective English Major, a choice which tends to invite skepticism: “Wait, so you plan to be a writer?”  They mime the preceding adjective, “penniless,” through facial contortions.  I point out that that fate can be averted through either fame (e.g. “Well yeah, I would love to be the next J.K. Rowling”) or a financially expedient marriage (e.g. “Dude, Trophy Wife is a completely valid back-up career”).

Luckily, most people can’t tell the difference between feigned cockiness and genuine faith.  I get along fine with something like an 18-carat alloy.     

The genre my heart belongs to is fantasy.  I prefer my adventures epic, my landscapes exotic, and my characters blurry and grey-ish—morally speaking.

As one might conclude on the back flap of a bookcover: I hail from Seattle, Washington where my family lives, including my fiercely beloved dachshund Milo—and where I will in future return only as visitor provided that the vaguely defined brilliant Fortune which I set off to college to seek does, in fact, materialize on schedule.  

(For your viewing pleasure, I have included a photo of said dachshund below.) 

IS THERE SUCH A THING AS A NEW STORY?

This question, to my mind, is akin to, “Is there such a thing as a new person?”  Of course nearly every baby born is preceded by another human being at some point in time who shared eerily similar physical characteristics; the same genius for, perhaps, the ukulele; the same antisocial proclivities; the same extremely deadly seafood allergy.  Nevertheless, even twins can’t help but eventually diverge, in however trivial a degree, from absolute identicalness. 

Newness, or originality, is relative when it comes to either people or stories.  Some may come across as shoddy copies of their predecessors, or directly borrow genetic material from their ancestors, but each one has something new to offer.  The only question is whether one finds that particular Something New worth one’s time.

The counter-argument is that most stories recycle subjects and themes which have already been written about.  But it is possible to write not only a new, but a new-feeling story by manipulating and rearranging these same old elements in an original way which makes them feel fresh and still relevant.  For instance, a story about a man who sorrowfully ate a banana while reminiscing about his ex-girlfriend would not be the same as a story about a man who sorrowfully ate his ex-girlfriend while reminiscing about the days when bananas were still available. 

Likewise, basic human emotions like fear and love and anger may be at the heart of most tales, but writers can dream up unconventional triggers and modes of expression for the characters experiencing these emotions.

Of course there’s such a thing as a new story.  If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t want to be a writer.