Before trying a novel I wrote a couple of plays.
Arthur Young's Reflexive Universe - fascinating but too schematic to fit into my scheme. The most I could hope for was a sense of the vocabulary and some possible images.
Strange about parents. We have such easy access to them and such daunting problems of communication.
Class is classlessness.
In life, there are no perfect affections.
But those two plays left me on fresh terms with language. I didn't always have to speak in my own voice.