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Or Dennis Lehane’s Darkness, Take My Hand:
He’s pretty silly-looking—a gangly, tall guy
with hips like doorknobs and unruly, brittle hair
that looks like he styles it by sticking his head in a
toilet bowl and fl ushing.
Fiction of a more literary style is usually built on a
foundation of unobtrusive poetry.
In John Fante’s Ask the Dust, the would-be writer Ar-
turo Bandini has severe writer’s block, typing only two
words in two days, palm tree, because a palm tree is out-
side his window:
[A] battle to the death between the palm tree
and me, and the palm tree won: see it out there
swaying in the blue air, creaking sweetly in the blue
air. The palm tree won after two fi ghting days, and
I crawled out of the window and sat at the foot
of the tree. Time passed, a moment or two, and
I slept, little brown ants carousing in the hair on
my legs.
The repeated phrase blue air is ironic and mocking,
like everything Bandini comes across in his quest for suc-
cess. And the word carousing completes the passage—this
celebration of ants mocking a young writer’s pain.
I’m sure you have your own favorites. The question is,
how do you get this sort of thing in your own writing?
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