It sounded so easy, such an in-the-bag way to get quick fame. I mean, how hard could it be, right?? You tell a story. Make stuff up… You use an exclamation point every now and again, sometimes two for dramatic effect. And then you have a "professional" look it over just to make sure words like “realized” and “cemetery” are spelled correctly.
SOOO in the bag.
Or maybe….in the BACK. As in her mind or where she sits in a car while the author’s mother turns BACK to nag, “are you and your friends almost finished with that piece of fiction I’m supposed to publish on my blog?”
Now, granted, Antonia has been ill. So ill that she couldn’t even find the energy to eat chicken quesadillas with us last night. So ill that she didn’t talk on the phone or pick up a book to read or even complain about something outside of illness. BUT… is this a valid excuse for a wanna-be writer?? I’m thinking not. No, this girl has got to get her Heineken in gear and pump out a fairy-tale that will sparkle like the top of the Chrysler edifice!! She’s got to develop an outline that oozes with plot and drones of suspense and tastes like buttermilk pancakes. And if it isn’t obvious to you, I’ve been Mad-Libbing with the unreasonable persistence of Mike Tyson. Because that’s ACTUALLY the kind of thing eight-year-old girls do with their mothers when they are riddled with internal bugs that make them not hungry and not happy and NOT, in any way, shape or form, in the mood for noveling, much less outlining… Mad Libs. You should try it. GREAT FUN.
So aside from feeling green and pukey, maybe the task at hand was more than she had anticipated. Or maybe she’s not CRAZY OBSESSESED with writing the way she is with, say, collecting lip gloss and pulling out my gray hairs and reading better than any and every child this side of the Mississippi.
But she and her pals DID work on something. And, while it’s a couple of years away from being finished, I had her permission to share with you Ghostville’s CHAPTER ONE. (illustrated and all). I'm not yet savvy enough with blogging-template business to figure out how to have posted it at the bottom, as opposed to the top or how to make the jpg file easier on the eyes so that you can actually READ it. Allan??
SOOO in the bag.
Or maybe….in the BACK. As in her mind or where she sits in a car while the author’s mother turns BACK to nag, “are you and your friends almost finished with that piece of fiction I’m supposed to publish on my blog?”
Now, granted, Antonia has been ill. So ill that she couldn’t even find the energy to eat chicken quesadillas with us last night. So ill that she didn’t talk on the phone or pick up a book to read or even complain about something outside of illness. BUT… is this a valid excuse for a wanna-be writer?? I’m thinking not. No, this girl has got to get her Heineken in gear and pump out a fairy-tale that will sparkle like the top of the Chrysler edifice!! She’s got to develop an outline that oozes with plot and drones of suspense and tastes like buttermilk pancakes. And if it isn’t obvious to you, I’ve been Mad-Libbing with the unreasonable persistence of Mike Tyson. Because that’s ACTUALLY the kind of thing eight-year-old girls do with their mothers when they are riddled with internal bugs that make them not hungry and not happy and NOT, in any way, shape or form, in the mood for noveling, much less outlining… Mad Libs. You should try it. GREAT FUN.
So aside from feeling green and pukey, maybe the task at hand was more than she had anticipated. Or maybe she’s not CRAZY OBSESSESED with writing the way she is with, say, collecting lip gloss and pulling out my gray hairs and reading better than any and every child this side of the Mississippi.
But she and her pals DID work on something. And, while it’s a couple of years away from being finished, I had her permission to share with you Ghostville’s CHAPTER ONE. (illustrated and all). I'm not yet savvy enough with blogging-template business to figure out how to have posted it at the bottom, as opposed to the top or how to make the jpg file easier on the eyes so that you can actually READ it. Allan??
Anyway, enjoy it if you can!
My oldest daughter is nine and the whole 'Mad Libs' thing was right on.
ReplyDeleteThen I saw the lip-gloss collecting line, and I could have sworn you were writing about her - starting from now, if she were to put some on every .006 seconds she would have enough to last her until the year 2075.