Friday, February 26, 2010
I refuse to call this post "food for thought."
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Emergency in the Brain
I wanted to wait to post my reflections on the stories so as not to influence your own posts, but then at the last minute I decided to share the beginning of this story I'm working on instead. Tell me honestly, class: would you keep reading a story that started this way?
Anyone at all concerned with moose preservation in Talkeetna, Alaska was gathered in Cindy Marshall’s apartment that fateful Saturday evening, some of them frozen in prayer position, asking God for anything but death – but oh, He works in mysterious ways.
Mary got to the place at eight, and opened the door to a room full of partygoers jumping out from behind furniture with a “Surpriii- oh it’s Mary.”
“Mark, hon, we really need to designate someone to watch who’s approaching the door – this is getting a little ridiculous. Mary! How are you! Welcome to the party!” Cindy was all smiles and party dress as she approached Mary at the door.
The apartment looked like a Jetson’s estate sale, hard wood floors and orange throw rugs that grew and pulsated under foot, a fichus in the corner with veins crawling up the wall and red light bulbs poking out of the greenery like little eyes – but then, Mary had taken drugs so it was impossible to know whether this was a weird set up or perfectly routine.
“I don’t understand,” Mary said. “Is this a surprise party?”
“Oh, no wonder!” Cindy guffawed. “You didn’t know! That is hilarious.”
“Aye Matey,” Cindy’s companion Mark said. “Can I get ye something to drink?” He had one arm wrapped up in his sweater, his lips curled, an invisible parrot. Mary sussed the whole thing out. Mark wasn’t actually a pirate; he was just pretending to be one, probably per some joke thrown out earlier in the night. Mary prided herself on her skillful inference.
“I’ll have a…” she paused to note the drugs rumbling in her stomach set to polish rocks. “Do you have any ginger ale?”
“Adorable,” Cindy said. “Just adorable.”
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Bullet in the Brain! Emergency!
- Write a short imitation of the story - i.e. write your own story in the style/spirit of whichever one you've chosen. Be sure to tell me which one you're modeling so I know.
- Write an analysis of one of the stories. What do you think it means? What does it mean to you? What are the story's strengths? Think about how the story is shaped and what it's trying to say. What details in particular resonated with you? If you didn't like it, specifically why not. Cite examples.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Oh, I was 10 once too you know.
It's 1992 and I'm ten years old. Let's say it's summer, mid afternoon and I'm walking down to the end of my street where my friend Dylan lives. The night before we drew up big plans to build an airplane in his backyard. The pavement is hot but I am not into wearing shoes. I have to sort of skip to keep the bottoms of my feet from burning off, and when that doesn't work, I hop back and forth from street to grass.
When I finally arrive it seems like there's a hundred kids in Dylan's yard, playing soccer. There's Dylan's older brother Jason, who's 11 and snobby, and Chris, who's two years old and loud and annoying. Michael and Dan are there from next door, plus Becky and Lindsey, although I don't know why because they hate soccer and I hate when one or both of them get stuck on my team. Dylan's mom Pam is outside, and she yells at me for not bringing shoes to the soccer game. "I didn't know there was gonna be a soccer game," I say. "I thought we were building an airplane."
Someone suggests boys against girls, and we lose. It's dark outside when I finally hobble home, my spirit broken, grass stained, and blisters on my feet.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Chuck Klosterman Interviews Val Kilmer
Crazy Things Seem Normal, Normal Things Seem Crazy.