Writing Exercise #1, Passage Re-Write
Revised due date. Post submissions as comments.
Due 2006.12.04 8:00am PST
The idea is this: Take the passage below and re-write it substituting words, yet retaining the form in some recognizable fashion. Perhaps the first two sentences might be re-written as such:
"When I was sick, I missed my brother Stevie. It was impossible for him to come into my room without contaminating the air and breaking my immune system defenses down. His letters had some magical..."
The goal is to get a preliminary feel for choosing words and placing them in order without getting too hung up on the subject matter or story. You can interpret this exercise how ever you feel is appropriate.
The passage to play with:
"When I was ten, I feared my sister Megan. It was impossible for her to come into my room without breaking at least one of my favorite toys, usually the favorite of favorites. Her gaze had some magical tape-destroying quality; any poster she looked at seems to fall of the wall only seconds later. Well-loved articles of clothing disappeared from the closet. She didn't take them (at least I don't think so), only made them vanish. I'd usually find that treasured tee-shirt or my favorite Nikes deep under the bed months later, looking sad and abandoned among the dust kitties. When Megan was in my room, stereo speakers blew, window-shades flew up with a bang, and the lamp on my desk usually went dead.
She could be consciously cruel, too. On one occasion, Megan poured orange juice into my cereal. On another, she squirted toothpaste into the toes of my socks while I was taking a shower. And although she never admitted it, I am positive that whenever I fell asleep on the couch during half-time of the Sunday afternoon pro football games on TV, she rubbed boogers in my hair."
Due 2006.12.04 8:00am PST
The idea is this: Take the passage below and re-write it substituting words, yet retaining the form in some recognizable fashion. Perhaps the first two sentences might be re-written as such:
"When I was sick, I missed my brother Stevie. It was impossible for him to come into my room without contaminating the air and breaking my immune system defenses down. His letters had some magical..."
The goal is to get a preliminary feel for choosing words and placing them in order without getting too hung up on the subject matter or story. You can interpret this exercise how ever you feel is appropriate.
The passage to play with:
"When I was ten, I feared my sister Megan. It was impossible for her to come into my room without breaking at least one of my favorite toys, usually the favorite of favorites. Her gaze had some magical tape-destroying quality; any poster she looked at seems to fall of the wall only seconds later. Well-loved articles of clothing disappeared from the closet. She didn't take them (at least I don't think so), only made them vanish. I'd usually find that treasured tee-shirt or my favorite Nikes deep under the bed months later, looking sad and abandoned among the dust kitties. When Megan was in my room, stereo speakers blew, window-shades flew up with a bang, and the lamp on my desk usually went dead.
She could be consciously cruel, too. On one occasion, Megan poured orange juice into my cereal. On another, she squirted toothpaste into the toes of my socks while I was taking a shower. And although she never admitted it, I am positive that whenever I fell asleep on the couch during half-time of the Sunday afternoon pro football games on TV, she rubbed boogers in my hair."
posted by nate at 10:19 AM
6 Comments:
Okay... this is proving more difficult than I thought. I've attempted two versions now and get stuck on like the 4 sentence. NOT GOOD, but fun.
When I was unemployed, I feared my agent Derb. It was impossible for her to come into my room without flagging at least one of my possessions as excessive. Her gaze was gamma-ray based; and she could infer the official relevancy rating of any item she chose to investigate. Well-loved articles of clothing disappeared from the closet. She didn't need them (being artificial in origin), only marked them for later deletion. I'd usually find that treasured tee-shirt or my favorite book deep in an outer district months later, looking abandoned yet well-loved among the plones. When Derb was in my room, speakers blew, med tubes stopped flowing, and the console always went dead.
She would be willfully warm once, too. Years later, Derb poured a sedative into my cereal. I found she had transported me to my favorite outer district while I was unconscious. And although she never showed up on any scan, I am positive that once when I fell asleep near edge of my new district while reading a beloved book, she left me a bookmark and rubbed my hair.
When I was a striper, I feared my boyfriend Jake. It was impossible for him to come into my work without punching at least one of my regular patrons, usually the biggest tipper of all. His gaze had some magical hard-on detector; any guy he looked at seems to vacate the establishment only seconds later. Well-loved costumes of mine disappeared from my locker. He didn’t destroy them (at least I don’t think so), only made them vanish. I’d usually find my treasured tassels or my favorite stilettos under the stage months later, looking tattered and discolored among the broken glass. When Jake was at my work, stereo speakers blew, girls fell down poles with a slap, and the lights on the stage usually went dead.
He could be extremely sweet, too. On one occasion, Jake slipped MDMA into my water bottle. On another, he squirted lavender oil into the bath while I was in the other room. And although he denies it, I am positive that whenever I passed out on the couch in the early morning hours after entertaining a private party, he covered me up with a blanket.
oh my gawd... my entry sounds so naive. But here it goes...
When Maddy was young, she tormented our cat Sylvester (I know - what can I say). It was impossible for her to play with Sylvy without yanking at least some of his hair, usually the remnants of his tail. Her supposed affection had some rather pseudo-masochistic quality; any hug she gave him practically asphyxiated him only moments later, catnip-smothered temptations of toys wrenched from his mouth. She didn’t hate him (at least I don’t think so), only needed a weaker foe. She’d typically grab a pink sparkly tutu or her doll’s sequin mermaid outfit from her play chest, dressing a reluctant and despondent Sylvy for a night on the town. When Sylvy was dressed to the nines, he freaked, rapidly extricating himself from the get-up and would fly under my bed, understandably disgusted.
Maddy could be incredibly persistent, too. On one occasion, she painted his claws with “pretty in pink” nail polish (although she only got one paw and unintentionally his chin). On another, she plunked him into the bathtub while she was taking a bubble bath. And although she will never know it, I am positive that whenever Sylvy curled up on top of her head at night while she was sleeping, he secretly wanted to suffocate her.
When I was seventeen, I fucked my first boy. It was scary for me to go into the men's room without thinking about the impact of my imminent sins, especially the most venal and mortal. His eyes had a bewitching lust-inducing quality; any doubts I experienced seemed to fade from my heart only moments later. Carefully-taught maxims about chastity disappeared from my brain. He didn't eliminate them (at least I don't think so), only made me forget them. I eagerly pulled off my tee-shirt and found my arms wrapped tightly around him moments later, feeling anxious but lustful among the urinals. When my tongue was in his mouth, Barbra Streisand sang, Roman candles shot off with a bang, and the world all around me ceased to exist.
He could be wildly passionate, too. At one point, he plunged his tongue into my ear. A bit later, he shoved his hand into the front of my jeans while I was squeezing his buns. And after it was all over, I was convinced that whenever I fell into another man's arms for the rest of my time on this planet, I would think about him.
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