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Okay, I'm done. Sorry.
So I've been thinking about "meta-ness" (I don't have a better name for it, sorry).
I think about it a lot as is, but I'm starting to worry about its appeal.
I've been going to a lot of writing events lately, talking to a lot of great people, networking, etc. When I mention I'm writing a novel I invariably get asked: "oh, what's it about?" or "what the pitch?" So far I've had a terrible time explaining it. Usually, I try to label it through my own system of literary taxonomy.
Kingdom: Written Work
Phylum: Prose
Subphylum: Fiction
Class: Novel (sorta? maybe? kinda?)
Order: Uhh, literary fiction...maybe?
Family: Weird Fiction
Genus: New Weird Fiction
Species: uhhh
Of course, when you try to organize your work through pretension literary-science crossovers you end up looking like an ass.
What really bugs me about this is that my writing is also an example of metafiction and I don't know where to put that in my classification system.
What's metafiction Mr. Kithis?
I'm glad you asked! Metafiction is a broad term referring any work that draws attention to its fictional nature. This can happen in a variety of ways: when characters break the fourth wall, when the author appears in the work itself, when the reader is somehow incorporated into the story.
Probably the most famous example of metafiction is Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler. The book follows You, the reader, as you peruse Italo Calvino's book If on a winter's night a traveler. There are other things that happen but that's kinda the gist of it. I started reading it this past week and...well...its made me reconsider some aspects of my own work.
Metafiction, in my opinion, is an inherently pretentious storytelling method. If used sparingly, it can be very effective. But, when a whole novel is about being a novel, the narrative tends to get tiresome. Calvino's book is wonderfully written but there are moments when I'm stuck screaming: "get over yourself!"
I don't want to be that pretension young author who keeps trying to make some enormous (albeit derivative) philosophical point. So why am I doing it? Maybe it gives me an excuse for not having well-constructed plots; maybe it makes me feel like I'm "pushing boundaries" or whatever; maybe it's just one of those ideas that sounds interesting in theory but proves dull in practice. I don't know.
For those that don't know my novel follows four different stories in a fictional Virginia city. Soren, a failed scholar and general pain-in-the-ass, has to deal with his newfound life as a protagonist. After shirking off his "call to action," he begins wandering the city in search of other discarded characters, hoping to find a way to keep the story going forever. Angela, a young misanthrope, gets a new job from a psychopathic extortionist who hopes to cash-in on her local infamy. February, the immature heir to a bizarre family's sprawling "business," seeks to make a name for himself through a series of absurd quests. And finally Evan, a washed up stoner who ticks off a local crime lord and must peddle hallucinogens to pay him back.
Each story balances seedy urban depravity with nonsensical humor. There's a character whose just a corpse full of rats, a man made of cardboard, a book (which is actually a gun) which just shows up places, and even me!
So, tell me what you all think. Does that sound like something you'd read? What's your opinion on meta elements in fiction? If I get enough views I'll post an excerpt from one of the chapters.