I was thinking about narrative and the phrase “there are no new tales left to tell” and its myriad variations.
Looking into it, someone was suggesting writing in “the quiet, eerie margins” was a writing space left largely untapped. Described as: “It is the difference between a sudden, violent storm (the loud center) and the heavy, electric stillness in the air just before the barometer drops (the quiet margin).”
Of course, I’m curious about your thoughts.
Are there truly no new tales left to tell? Is everything derivative? Can you think of a story that doesn’t have an easy analogue?
Or, how would you interpret writing “in the quiet, eerie margin”? Do you have a different description or opinion? Where would you start if you were writing in/of the margin?