An early work of mine. Like all good writing, it benefited from a serious edit. It went from a trilogy of novels to a single work. The single volume lacked edge. So it went from novel to novella.
The novella was sharp but when I cut it down to a short story it was even more magnificent. At that point I realized the vanity of it and rewrote it in prose. It halved its length.
When I had been away from it long enough I noticed how pretentious it actually was. I wrote it into a 10 part poem. That gave way to tightening of redundancies and I realized structure was what was missing. It became a sonnet.
The formalization broke the emotional response though. I pulled it apart until it could be reassembled in four lines. The epiphany that it was a natural topic with a surprise ending led me to drop a line and make it a haiku.
In a sober moment this seemed corrupt and contrived and I realized only the title expressed the ennui, the tender pain, the depth and novelty of the experience.
Now, gentle readers, I share the title that remains: “Man Bites Dog.”
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