Experiments in style: Synchysis
Not exactly a word salad, but...
If you’re new here then you can find out all about this project of mine here:
But in a nutshell it’s this: I’ve been taking a short and very bland story and rewriting it in different styles. This time I’ve chosen Synchysis. What’s that? All will be revealed after the template below, which is the short story I’ve been working with.
I've always been a big fan of taking old songs and completely turning them on their head. Having no adherence to the fine tradition of the original version. Rearranging them and taking a different approach to them.
A bang on the head (template)
In the middle of the night, I woke up (if you can call being semi-conscious being awake), walked purposefully towards the door to go to the bathroom — and almost knocked myself out.
The reason was that in the twin states of entire darkness and semi-somnambulance I was facing in a different direction from the one I thought I was facing. As a result, instead of walking through the door, I tried to walk through the wall.
The next few days brought nausea and headaches. After much prevarication I went to Accident and Emergency, where I waited petrified among people for whom “social distancing” means not quite touching you, and who wore their masks as a chin-warmer.
An hour and a half later I emerged into the twilight, secure in the knowledge that I had nothing more serious than mild concussion. I failed to do much writing, but I was pleased to have read a further 17% of my book.
This is where you use the same words, but change the order, thereby obscuring the meaning. I’ve taken this a step further by making up a completely different story from the words in the original. There is some more to say about this, and the method I used, which I’ll reserve for a paid post. In the meantime, here is the new version of the story. As I said, it uses all the words that were in the original, but I’ve played fast and loose with the punctuation. I hope you like it. Do let me know what you think.
Later, I woke up -- not in the bathroom. I waited an hour and a half -- for whom? -- in the middle of the night; I was petrified.
I thought of touching you to, to -- and I read almost 17% of my book. As a result, I walked purposefully towards the door to go to Accident and Emergency. The reason was that I almost knocked myself out. I tried “social distancing” for the next few days. After much prevarication, I went walking through the wall and failed to do much, but I was pleased.
Writing—who to? -- among people brought nausea — and their headaches! I had mild concussion and emerged from that in -- where?
As twilight masks the knowledge of twin, I wore a chin-warmer, was facing the wall. In the darkness means quite a different direction. Secure, I walk through into the semi-somnambulance instead of nothing. I have a further, more serious one, than facing entire states.
The Joe Bonamassa quotation has been included because Jacques Roubaud of the Oulipo invented a rule that any piece of writing that uses a constraint must refer to that constraint in some way.
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