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Genre: Literary Fiction
About AntagonLocation: The Netherlands Home Region: Age:20 Favorite novels: Zen and the Art of Motorycle Maintenance, 1984, Catcher in the Rye, Brave New World Favorite writers: R. Pirsig, G. Orwell, E. Hemingway, F. Dostoyevsky, N. Cowen, A. Lindgren, A. Huxley, et al. Favorite music: Godspeed You Black Emperor, 65dos, Mogwai, Andrew Lawler, Nine Inch Nails, well, just ask me for the compilation, really. Non-noveling interests: Creative arts, letter writing, side projects, losing the day... |
Joined: October 14, 2006 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 1 NaNoWriMo buddies: 2
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Brief Author Bio: After having written and completed the National Novel Writing Months from 2005 to 2008, this year will be my first attempt to write an English novel instead of writing in my own native language, Dutch. In previous encounters with this beautiful yet deadly writing phenomenon, I could make it to the 10.000 words a day, yet I'm afraid in English it will be a struggle to get to my daily limit. I have a semi-decent Microsoft Excel sheet with calculations and stats for your NaNoWriMo experience. A little more about who I am, then. I firmly believe myself to be a story. I am writing my story, and other people write along. I'm usually quite friendly and loyal to whatever purpose you set me to, and what else is there to tell about me? The ones interested are the ones to ask. |
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Synopsis: Glass Museum
The novel is about who people are and what they might do. Set in some social-apocalyptic world that we might experience ourselves in few years from now on, the interest lies in both feelings and thoughts, and much emphasis is placed on both these important aspects of human life. The main character, perhaps we could call him a hero, is Saint Micke, who struggles with the changes of the world around him. Early on, he meets a girl who became blind after being exposed to the outside world, for she was a prisoner of some sorts. Then there is his friend, Lotta, who relies on dreaming, and gradually mistakes the dream world for the living world. Next to that, the centerpiece of the story is the actual Glass Museum, where, shall we say, human behaviour will be determined in a rather explicit way.
I might as well conclude with 65daysofstatic, because I think that feeling might be appropriate to what we will be seeing.
'Aren't we all running?'
Excerpt: Glass Museum
Glass Museum
Another pervert, but I couldn’t recall anything of it. What did I look like, anyway? Did I look like someone who could be like that? My mind went dull again, and I just wasn’t in the mood for any resistance anymore. Even more knocking on the glass. I swear, I was going insane. I started praying, something I have never done before, but now I needed it. God, please help me…
‘Show us something and we’ll leave. Otherwise we’ll still be here, all day! And tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and…’
I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I pulled up my shirt and gave them what they wanted. They just laughed, and I started crying. First on the inside, then on the outside. It didn’t even please them, they just started to comment me in degrading ways. As if I wasn’t enough. As if I wasn’t human. The thing with this place is that the interaction between visitors and museum objects is very real. I understand them. I wish I was an animal, who didn’t understand. Who wondered why the fences were there, but accepted them nevertheless. I understand where I am, what happens around me, and I don’t accept the fences. The tears were streaming down my face.
‘Look, we made her cry, the poor darling.’
He didn’t mean anything of it. At least they moved on, and the day was almost to a close. I was defeated. And tomorrow I will be, again.
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