So I've signed up to be a penpal to an intercity 5th grader. For obvious reasons I'm not going to put his name on the interwebs. I think I'll just call him Bob. I mean, it doesn't really matter because I doubt I'll be talking about him that often anyway, so I could change his name and you'll go, wait, wasn't his name Bob? But by then you'll have to go back and find this post, and that's far too much trouble than to just assume you're forgetful and not good at anything but reading something you'll forget anyway.
So they want these letters to be "professional". What kind of kid wants a "professional" letter from some college fuck he's never met? 5th graders are what, between 10 and 11? I know for a fact that I would not want some guy who is practically twice my age sending me something that is like,
Dear Mr. Green,
How are you? I am a psychology major. That means I sit around and learn about how you think and process information.
Well, that is all I have to say,
Sincerely,
Mr. Older College Guy
What I would like to get is,
Dear Nathan,
They want me to tell you about how exciting college is for me, but I doubt you care. I know they're reading these letters anyway to make sure I'm not a pedophile (now THAT is something to define for them) so I suppose I should tell you a few things. I'm a psychology major. I don't know what you're home life is like, but if you've seen a therapist that's basically it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it basically means that I can read your mind. That's right. When you go to college, you too can become psychic over time. It's really fantastic. Unfortunately I can't show you in a letter because you're reading this in the future and I can only read your present mind. Sorry. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the fuck out of your 5th grade year, because someday you'll be old like I am and wonder if you ever did anything worthwhile 10 years ago. And you'll think, "No. No I have not." But then you could become an engineering major and make a time machine and portal back to as you read this letter and tell yourself to do more (of course I won't bother explaining time/space theories, this letter only needs to be a page) interesting things with your life. I have to get back to studying now, but I'm quite glad to make your acquaintance (if you don't know what that means, it means cybernetic brainwave manipulation, ask your teacher about it)!
Sincerely,
Captain Doctor Nathan Green
And all of my letters would be along those lines. And then maybe I'll draw him a picture. Maybe I'll send him letters that little be little degenerate until his mother finds him crying under his blanket and when his mother asks what is wrong he'll look up at her with big shiny eyes and go, everything is so beautiful.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Can You Picture That?
If any of you read Hyperbole and a Half the following might make a bit more sense.
I'm going to start a story/comic mix. The way H&H does it is the picture is a supplement, it adds a visual effect to what you're reading. What I play to do is mix the two by writing a story that is told, for the most part, through text like a regular story. Where I differ from the run of the mill book or short story is that I'm going to integrate strips into the story that are part of the story itself like a sentence or paragraph in and of itself. For example,
Nathan trudged down the street to the first bar he could find. He wasn't a tourist, no, that had never quite been his style. He wasn't going to open a pamphlet on the best bars to visit in Manhattan. He was an experiencer. He went places and saw the things the city tried to shy away from. He did not want to see the Statue of Liberty or go to a museum. He wanted to see people living everyday lives. He wanted to meet the regulars even if he wasn't one himself. He looked up to see where fate had brought him.
What a dump. But hey, you only live once, and this place looked like it made sure of that.
How does he know me? Nathan thought to himself. I've never been here before... I've never even been to New York before.
"Nathan, are you alright? Why don't you take your regular seat at the bar and Ear will get you your usual!" the cheerful host said leading him to the end of the bar.
I have a usual? Nathan eased himself onto the stool as if he expected it to devour him whole. Why anyone would sit down on something about to eat them is beyond anyone's knowledge.
"Evenin' Nathan," the barman grunted, setting down a wine glass filled with what appeared to be soda.
"Uh... Evening Earl.." Is that what he would say if he were a regular? Nathan thrust the words out of his mouth in an attempt to feel normal. Everything seemed normal except him. Was everything normal? The exterior of this place seemed on its last leg, yet here he was in what could easily be confused for one of the finest French restaurants in the country. He'd play along for now, see what happened. Worst case scenario it was all a joke. Maybe the concierge knew a fool when he saw one and phoned ahead.
Nathan looked around the room. No phone.
" In a wine glass so you can feel fancy, just like you like it," Earl said eying the untouched wine glass.
" Er... Yeah, thanks. I couldn't remember if I left the stove on..." Nathan said attempting to keep his voice casual. Maybe if he acted strange enough the truth would reveal itself.
" Hah, what are you doing with a stove Mr. I-Eat-Everything-I-Catch-Live?" Earl said with a barking laugh. Everything in that statement, including the laugh, raised the hairs on the back of Nathan's neck.
" ...Experimenting. Thought maybe I'd try something new?" Whoever they think I am is stranger than anyone I could ever dream of. Aha! Maybe that's it! I must be dreaming! Of course! Come on Nathan, wake up! Wake up!
"Sir! Sir, stop! What are you doing?! You'll hurt yourself, stop!" the host cried as he attempted to pull Nathan's head back from the bar, which he had taken to smashing his forehead again. The commotion had spilled the soda, getting all over poor Earl. I hope whoever I am remembered to bring his wallet to pay for any damages...
"Sir! Sir! Nathan! Stop this immediately!" Nathan sat up with a start, causing the host to stumble backwards and land uncomfortably into a booth. The voice was in and out of his head. It was like a throbbing in his left temple. In and out. Inside, outside.
"I must ask that you refrain from disrupting the other customers!" he cried from the seat cushion. Nathan looked around. The everyone in the room was staring at him. The were not there a second ago.
This is either the worst dream ever, or the most elaborate "reality television show."
"I assure you that this is no television show!" Earl said gruffly.
How did he hear that? I thought that statement. I have to get out of here! Nathan rose off the stool only to see the door was no longer there, but a very angry security guard.
" I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." There it was again, the in and out. They sure don't teach you these things in school.
I'm going to start a story/comic mix. The way H&H does it is the picture is a supplement, it adds a visual effect to what you're reading. What I play to do is mix the two by writing a story that is told, for the most part, through text like a regular story. Where I differ from the run of the mill book or short story is that I'm going to integrate strips into the story that are part of the story itself like a sentence or paragraph in and of itself. For example,
Nathan trudged down the street to the first bar he could find. He wasn't a tourist, no, that had never quite been his style. He wasn't going to open a pamphlet on the best bars to visit in Manhattan. He was an experiencer. He went places and saw the things the city tried to shy away from. He did not want to see the Statue of Liberty or go to a museum. He wanted to see people living everyday lives. He wanted to meet the regulars even if he wasn't one himself. He looked up to see where fate had brought him.
 | ||||||||||
|
 | |
| I feel dirty taking from the unpopular, but who's going to know? |
"Nathan, are you alright? Why don't you take your regular seat at the bar and Ear will get you your usual!" the cheerful host said leading him to the end of the bar.
I have a usual? Nathan eased himself onto the stool as if he expected it to devour him whole. Why anyone would sit down on something about to eat them is beyond anyone's knowledge.
"Evenin' Nathan," the barman grunted, setting down a wine glass filled with what appeared to be soda.
"Uh... Evening Earl.." Is that what he would say if he were a regular? Nathan thrust the words out of his mouth in an attempt to feel normal. Everything seemed normal except him. Was everything normal? The exterior of this place seemed on its last leg, yet here he was in what could easily be confused for one of the finest French restaurants in the country. He'd play along for now, see what happened. Worst case scenario it was all a joke. Maybe the concierge knew a fool when he saw one and phoned ahead.
Nathan looked around the room. No phone.
" In a wine glass so you can feel fancy, just like you like it," Earl said eying the untouched wine glass.
" Er... Yeah, thanks. I couldn't remember if I left the stove on..." Nathan said attempting to keep his voice casual. Maybe if he acted strange enough the truth would reveal itself.
" Hah, what are you doing with a stove Mr. I-Eat-Everything-I-Catch-Live?" Earl said with a barking laugh. Everything in that statement, including the laugh, raised the hairs on the back of Nathan's neck.
" ...Experimenting. Thought maybe I'd try something new?" Whoever they think I am is stranger than anyone I could ever dream of. Aha! Maybe that's it! I must be dreaming! Of course! Come on Nathan, wake up! Wake up!
"Sir! Sir, stop! What are you doing?! You'll hurt yourself, stop!" the host cried as he attempted to pull Nathan's head back from the bar, which he had taken to smashing his forehead again. The commotion had spilled the soda, getting all over poor Earl. I hope whoever I am remembered to bring his wallet to pay for any damages...
"Sir! Sir! Nathan! Stop this immediately!" Nathan sat up with a start, causing the host to stumble backwards and land uncomfortably into a booth. The voice was in and out of his head. It was like a throbbing in his left temple. In and out. Inside, outside.
"I must ask that you refrain from disrupting the other customers!" he cried from the seat cushion. Nathan looked around. The everyone in the room was staring at him. The were not there a second ago.
This is either the worst dream ever, or the most elaborate "reality television show."
"I assure you that this is no television show!" Earl said gruffly.
How did he hear that? I thought that statement. I have to get out of here! Nathan rose off the stool only to see the door was no longer there, but a very angry security guard.
" I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." There it was again, the in and out. They sure don't teach you these things in school.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)