I recently rewrote a friend‘s story for him. I took his facts, and rewrote it the way I would have if I were trying to get it published.
This was obviously weird for him. I took a story from his childhood, 9 years before I even knew he existed, and wrote it from his perspective…in my voice. It’s a jumbly strange thing.
This friend told me it was strange. Told me it was weird to read his facts in another’s voice. But today, he said he figured it out, and sent me this:
“Nope. Your voice drips with nostalgia. Everything sounds coated in the golden light of the summer sun. It makes you think that it’s your own story. It makes you want to be there.”
Thanks for the win, Chris.