Saturday, September 1, 2012

I just read Franny by JD Salinger tonight for the first time and now I'm feeling weird. It is a really beautiful short story, maybe even one of the best I've read (but I do feel that way about a lot of things straight after I read them). The weird feeling comes from the fact that I wrote a short story called Coffee with Milk last year that essentially has the same setting, broad idea and character as Franny, Salinger of course does it infinitely better than I do and in a much more believable way but I just don't know what to do now because I was planning to spend a lot of time over the next week editing Coffee with Milk after it had been workshopped in my creative writing class but I don't think I will be able to without stealing ideas from Salinger. It is different enough that it doesn't feel like a copy (to me) but I kind of feel like it is useless writing the story now since it has been written so eloquently by someone much better than me.

1 comment:

  1. This happens to me all the time. I tend to say fuck it and edit it anyway.

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