On Fictions and Fancy Terms.

It’s often said of the INFJ type that their inner worlds are more real to them than the outer one, and so it often is with me. So many scenarios projected onto an imaginary screen before my inner eye, all replete with observations, conversations, sharp impressions, meaningful moments… some to my liking and some not. I realised only recently that I can be just as emotionally moved by the progress of these fictions as I am by the hard facts of a harsh outside world. I suppose it’s why I took to writing fiction shortly after I moved out of the city to the countryside and began the process of becoming a recluse. I’d be curious to know how many fiction writers exhibit a reclusive tendency and how many of them are INFJs 

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Meanwhile, back in New York City, Mr Christian is beginning his first day at the funeral parlour. Mr Vane, the proprietor, instructs him to attend the Sourpusses who are not exactly pining for the deceased. He expresses it as ‘no one’s getting their feet wet with tears.’

I like that kind of expression with its nod to metaphor (and probably has a name that’s impossible to remember. Flann O’Brien was quite the expert at knowing the obscure technical terms for figures of speech, so maybe it’s an Irish thing.) What I want to know now is whether the expression came out of Donleavy’s head, or whether it’s a common component of New York City speech. I don’t suppose anybody will tell me.

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Today’s twilight was more to my liking. The clammy dark mist was gone and the evening sky was bright and draped in pale grey and pink. It was a twilight given to standing and observing and musing, which is what I do.