Stories demand coherence. Storers supply. Narratives are inventories, lists of events asked for and arbitrary, getting to the point of asking for it. The arc of the universe, moral or situational, can always deserve line of best fit. Coherence, however, is not crucial, just like its optional Uncle Approval.
For the reader to feel invited, the author must develop a sense of invitation. And most writing is a party. No harm in a party, except for the overindulgent hosts and guests. But life and non-life are not always a party. Most of the time, bodies rest or repeat habitual actions. Stones wait. Water undulates under the surface.
What is incoherence writing? Deconstruction and other analyses are coherent and therefore narratively arched. Incoherence is not mysterious, spirit-ish, or ephemeral — each of these traits rides in the story penumbra.
Incohere is not found in the dictionary, not because it does not happen, but rather because it is so traditionally undesirable it denies definition. Incoherence is the pathless path, however. The infinite game. The narrative arc that is neither curved nor straight.
To practice incoherence is to practice continuance; to practice stories is to practice termination.
Roman Ryan 