Mone was depressed. It was the winter of 2006, and she was twenty-one, a onetime beauty-school student and a college dropout. She had recently married, and her husband, whom she had known since childhood, was still in school in Tokyo. Thinking that a change might help, she went to stay with her mother, in the country town where she had grown up. Back in her old bedroom, she nursed her malaise, and for weeks she barely left the house. “I’d light a match and see how long it would burn, if you know what I mean,” she says. One day, at the end of March, she pulled out all her old photo albums and diaries, and decided to write a novel about her life. She curled up on her side in bed and began typing on her mobile phone. ...Monday, December 29, 2008
Cell Phone Novels? Interesting article in the New Worker ...
Mone was depressed. It was the winter of 2006, and she was twenty-one, a onetime beauty-school student and a college dropout. She had recently married, and her husband, whom she had known since childhood, was still in school in Tokyo. Thinking that a change might help, she went to stay with her mother, in the country town where she had grown up. Back in her old bedroom, she nursed her malaise, and for weeks she barely left the house. “I’d light a match and see how long it would burn, if you know what I mean,” she says. One day, at the end of March, she pulled out all her old photo albums and diaries, and decided to write a novel about her life. She curled up on her side in bed and began typing on her mobile phone. ...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment