Sometimes when there aren’t any particular events of interest in a day, one has no choice but to go meta. In those occasions, the result is mostly along the lines of a general thought. An idea. A philosophy, even? It’s always a surprise. Even for the writer.
In this case, one has so little to mention that the story itself is so meta that it talkes about the meta-ness of writing. How much more meta can we go? That even in a story that explains the process behind writing a meta story, one acknowledges that’s a meta practice to begin with.
How many levels of meta are we now looking at? Maybe not so many and one is simply pushing an idea too hard right now. Despite that, one feels accomplished in that this story could be written from a sunny terrace slowest sipping on a cold brew.1
A beer, not the hipster coffee. Don’t get it twisted. I’m not that hipstery-fied. ↩︎