Some days ago, during the long layoff from school, I awoke from sleep in the midst of a dream, a rare enough occurrence as I almost never recall dreams, but this one even more rare: the dream had some kind of form, some narrative thread. The press of affairs prevented my writing down anything more than just the barest details, but since then I have been working through my recollection — something more than a snapshot, less than a sequence — and seeing characters ad wondering what they have in mind. I read a quote somewhere, attributed to William Faulkner, that his technique consisted of nothing more than turning some characters loose and taking notes as he followed them around. I have no idea where this is going: I feel like I’m just transcribing events, rather than making them up.
Now playing: Robbie Robertson – The Sound is Fading via Radio Paradise