Voil\u00e0! Je me lance. J\u2019ai enfin d\u00e9cid\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crire une histoire invent\u00e9e. Depuis quelques mois, je tourne et retourne cette id\u00e9e dans ma t\u00eate. Pourrai-je y arriver? Inventer de toutes pi\u00e8ces une intrigue; peut-\u00eatre une histoire d\u2019amour avec un ensemble d\u2019\u00e9v\u00e9nements et assez de faits pour constituer un court r\u00e9cit. Une nouvelle, comme l\u2019appellent les \u00e9crivains de m\u00e9tier. J\u2019ai toujours r\u00eav\u00e9 de devenir une v\u00e9ritable auteure \u00e0 succ\u00e8s, mais par o\u00f9 devrais-je commencer? J\u2019ai lu quelque part qu\u2019\u00e9crire c\u2019est comme \u00ab\u00a0gravir une montagne sans quoi il n\u2019y aurait gu\u00e8re d\u2019int\u00e9r\u00eat \u00e0 vouloir toucher les cimes\u00a0\u00bb. C\u2019est bien vrai! Si je me lance, j\u2019aurai besoin d\u2019un aigle g\u00e9ant pour m\u2019aider \u00e0 grimper tr\u00e8s haut.<\/p>\n
Je rumine une id\u00e9e, je cherche un filon, une histoire peut-\u00eatre \u00e0 moiti\u00e9 invent\u00e9e. Et vlan, l\u2019id\u00e9e jaillit! Depuis quelque temps, il y a ce nouvel ami qui nous courtise au caf\u00e9 o\u00f9 j\u2019\u00e9cris. Cet homme a l\u2019air plut\u00f4t vieux, mais il a bonne mine. Il aime boire des latt\u00e9s et appr\u00e9cie certainement notre groupe d\u2019amis. Avant-hier, il nous parlait de sa d\u00e9concertante histoire d\u2019amour.<\/p>\n
Pianotant sur mon iPad, je l\u2019entendais discourir, parler ouvertement d\u2019une certaine \u00ab\u00a0catin\u00a0\u00bb qu\u2019il avait dans la peau. Ciel! Pourrais-je m\u2019emparer de cette histoire? L\u2019enlaidir ou l\u2019embellir? Moi qui en sais si peu sur l\u2019amour et sur l\u2019attachement \u00e0 la chair, j\u2019ai d\u00fb consulter l\u2019ami Google pour apprendre la signification de l\u2019expression \u00ab\u00a0avoir quelqu\u2019un dans la peau\u00a0\u00bb. L\u2019expression remonte au XIXth<\/sup>\u00a0si\u00e8cle et signifie \u00ab\u00a0\u00eatre follement, follement amoureux de quelqu\u2019un\u00a0\u00bb.<\/p>\n Google m\u2019informe aussi des plaisirs de la chair, ceux-l\u00e0 m\u00eames qui sont toujours \u00e0 demi pardonn\u00e9s. Trop manger, s\u2019empiffrer, avaler la mer et tous ses poissons. J\u2019attends, je d\u00e9sesp\u00e8re; je ne sais plus \u00e0 quel saint me vouer. Peut-\u00eatre que pour moi, l\u2019amour constitue le pire sujet d\u2019\u00e9criture? Qu\u2019en sais-je? Je n\u2019ai encore jamais aim\u00e9 \u00e0 en perdre la boule!<\/p>\n Ce soir, assise \u00e0 ma table de cuisine, j\u2019implore la page blanche avec un c\u0153ur vacillant, quelques id\u00e9es en d\u00e9route et la peur de ne pas \u00eatre \u00e0 la hauteur. Mes doigts pianotent dans le vide; j\u2019entends craquer un mur; la noirceur ext\u00e9rieure m\u2019enferme dans une cage. Trouverais-je une faille par laquelle entrer dans l\u2019histoire de sa tigresse \u00e9hont\u00e9e?<\/p>\n J\u2019ai appris que la premi\u00e8re fois que l\u2019homme discret la vit, il en tomba follement amoureux. Pour elle, il quitta sa femme, ses enfants, son foyer et son statut. Et pourtant! Il d\u00e9couvrit rapidement qu'il s'agissait d'une racoleuse, d\u00e9brouillarde et bougonne de petite vertu. Mais cet homme l\u2019aimait et lui pardonnait toutes ses frasques. \u00c9lev\u00e9e dans une famille trop peu recommandable, cette femme admirait tous les grands bandits et les pires canailles. Petits oublis de payer, gros larcins, elle exploitait toujours le syst\u00e8me \u00e0 son avantage.<\/p>\n L\u2019autre matin, le m\u00eame vieillard nous fit pouffer de rire. Il nous raconta qu\u2019\u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9poque, les orteils des gars crochissaient juste \u00e0 regarder sa dulcin\u00e9e. Orpheline en bas \u00e2ge, cette catin, cette force de la nature contr\u00f4lait plut\u00f4t bien son propre univers. Elle barguignait, marchandait et volait tout ce qu\u2019elle pouvait sans jamais se faire prendre. Comme le passe-temps favori de madame \u00e9tait le magasinage, presque chaque jour elle s\u2019y adonnait.<\/p>\n S\u2019empiffrant de mets de premi\u00e8re qualit\u00e9 dans les grands restaurants, sa beaut\u00e9 lui servait de pr\u00e9cieux viatique lorsqu\u2019elle oubliait de payer.<\/p>\n Croyez-le ou non, ce couple si mal assorti a v\u00e9cu en concubinage pendant vingt-cinq longues ann\u00e9es. Croisi\u00e8re dans les \u00eeles grecques, voyages dans le Sud, bagues en or, colliers de diamants, tours de gondole \u00e0 Venise, escalade du mont Fuji; tout ce qu\u2019elle d\u00e9sirait, mon ami lui donnait. Parce qu\u2019il l\u2019aimait. L\u2019extraordinaire bleu des yeux de cette femme l\u2019envo\u00fbtait. C\u2019est d\u2019ailleurs ce que tout le monde autour d\u2019eux supposait.<\/p>\n Cette semaine au caf\u00e9, cet homme vieilli, isol\u00e9, bless\u00e9 et abandonn\u00e9 s\u2019ouvre pour la premi\u00e8re fois \u00e0 notre cercle d\u2019amis. Il d\u00e9balle ses frustrations, ses regrets, ses idioties et son immense chagrin de s\u2019\u00eatre retrouv\u00e9 le bec \u00e0 l\u2019eau. Oui, oui! Cette poulette l\u2019a plum\u00e9 jusqu\u2019au dernier sou.<\/p>\n Quant \u00e0 moi, je constate une fois de plus que la fiction se r\u00e9v\u00e8le souvent moins tragique que la r\u00e9alit\u00e9.<\/p>\n Cora Voil\u00e0! Je me lance. J\u2019ai enfin d\u00e9cid\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crire une histoire invent\u00e9e. Depuis […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":45507,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-45506","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Here we go! I\u2019ve finally decided to write fiction. I\u2019ve been toying with the idea for a few months now. Will I be able to pull it off? To create a plot from scratch; maybe a love story with sufficient events and facts to spin a brief tale. A short story, as real novelists call it. I\u2019ve always dreamed of becoming a best-selling author, but where should I begin? I read somewhere that \u201cif it weren\u2019t for mountains to climb, we\u2019d never enjoy the view from the top.\u201d So true! If I go on this adventure, I\u2019ll need a giant eagle to help me ascend.\r\n\r\nI muse about an idea, search for a thread, a story that\u2019s part fact, part fiction perhaps. And VOIL\u00c0! The idea comes to me! A new friend has been hanging around at the coffee shop where I write. The man, older and still good looking, loves to drink lattes and clearly appreciates our circle of friends. The day before yesterday, he divulged a miserable tale of love to us.\r\n\r\nTyping away on my iPad, I listened as he talked about a certain beauty that he had under his skin. Heavens! Could I take this story and embellish it? Disfigure it? I know almost nothing about love and physical attachment, so I had to ask my friend Google to tell me more about the expression \u201cI\u2019ve got you under my skin.\u201d Popularized in a 1936 song by Cole Porter, it means to be so madly in love with someone that it\u2019s as if they\u2019re a part of you.\r\n\r\nGoogle also informs me about the pleasures of the flesh, the ones that are only ever partially forgiven. Eating to excess, gorging oneself, swallowing the sea and all its fish. I wait and despair; I don\u2019t know who to pray to. Maybe love is the worst possible topic for a Sunday letter in my case? After all, what do I know about love? I\u2019ve never loved enough to lose my mind!\r\n\r\nTonight, as I sit at my kitchen table, I implore the white page in front of me with a wavering heart, a few ideas scattered about me. I\u2019m terrified I won\u2019t be up to the task. My fingers are typing in mid-air, I hear a wall crack, darkness surrounds me and traps me in a cage. Will I find a crevice through which I can enter this story of the shameless tigress?\r\n\r\nHe fell madly in love the first time he saw her. This quiet man left his wife, his children, his home and his social standing for this woman. Grave mistake! He quickly discovered that she was a seductress, a resourceful and grumpy woman with little virtue. But this man loved her and forgave all her shortcomings. Brought up in a disreputable family, she admired all the great thieves and worst scoundrels. Small unpaid debts, here, petty thefts there \u2013 she relentlessly exploited the system to her advantage.\r\n\r\nThe other morning, the unfortunate man made us laugh out loud. He recounted that his buddies jostled each other to catch a glimpse of his sweetheart. Orphaned at a very young age, this dolled-up force of nature was in full control of her universe. She bargained, haggled and stole all she could without ever getting caught. The missus\u2019 favourite past-time was shopping, and she dedicated herself to it almost daily. Dining in five-star restaurants, her beauty proved a useful charm when she \u201caccidentally\u201d forgot to pay.\r\n\r\nBelieve it or not, this mismatched couple lived together for 25 long years. A cruise in the Greek Islands, trips down south, gold rings, diamond necklaces, gondola rides in Venice, a climb up Mount Fuji\u2026 What she desired, my friend gave her, all out of love. The woman\u2019s extraordinary blue eyes had him bewitched. That\u2019s what those around him thought.\r\n\r\nNow older, isolated, scorned and abandoned, he opened up to our group of friends for the first time at the coffee shop this week. He unpacked his frustrations, his idiocy and his terrible grief of ending up alone. Yes, the heartless chick plucked him to his very last dime!\r\n\r\nOnce more, I realize that fiction is often less tragic than reality.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764\ufe0f"},"yoast_head":"\n
\n\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"