There is No Such Thing as a Free Write

Everything you see here is a trick. A strong, emphatic code is hidden by every line. It is not a subtext. Did anyone say it was? The biggest trick, La Grande Illusion, the disappearing tiger – well, surely you know? Originality. The original is the familiar presented in a new way; a smugly comforting thought for me as I write this. But is it true? Everything has been thought of by someone already. Even that. But:

.¿sdrawkcab ti etorw I fi tahw.

It wouldn't matter, that's the original Da Vinci Code, is it not?

Another of the tricks is the contract: between writer and reader. The writer promises … what? Hmm.. I didn't sign anything, did you? Suppose there were a contract: what would it say.? I promise to pay the reader one plot, some character and conflict. Or would we draw up some more obfuscatory rigmarole departing from the party of the first part and arriving pell-mell at the sanity clause? No, I think the contract is unfair; another trick on me and you. I cannot promise to be writing what you think you are reading. Why should I?

So, if you read on, would I tell you a story? If I wrote on, would it be something new? Would it be a shining jewel or a polished turd?

I think we both know the answer.