I’ve been thinking about maybe creating a fictional character, someone nothing like me, or maybe an amplification of the worst side of me, or maybe a version of my father, or maybe, instead, a hybrid from the pool of other men I’ve known—friends, co-workers, employers, and cousins.
I could start by writing a biography and a family history, a vivid physical description, and a psychological profile of my straw man. Then, drawing from this outline, I could begin to deduce his attitudes, his influences, his religion, his politics. I could use similar characters from pop culture, movies, and my past to give my creation flesh and a rudimentary voice, something I can mimic, practice, develop.
Eventually I could write a journal, a diary, even literary blog posts using this fictional voice, engaging with the world as the character when I’m tired of speaking as myself.
Before long, there would be a book called something like The Great Recession Journals of Whatever I Name Him for sale on Kindle for only $____.
Just one of the many book ideas that keep me up tossing and turning. I really must write more.