Faking It

I got past staring. I conquered the blank page with the unbearably exciting title, FREDERICK MAKES HIS OWN LUNCH, followed by 792 words of just that: two peanut butter & grape jelly sandwiches on white bread, plus assorted (double) accompaniments. Tonight I’ll make more titles, ALLAN GARDENS, and ED: NOTHING SERIOUS, and CANADA POST BOX GETS TOSSED IN THE DON RIVER. I’ll write down all the titles and then, tomorrow and the next day and oh ad nauseam I’ll write the 400 or 600 or 800 or 1000 words required of me. I am now reading a new someone else’s novel, My Life as a Fake, also chosen for its title. As I read I concentrate on the peculiar fakeness of Frederick’s life.