Writing camp...
...where you can spend fifteen minutes sitting in the computer lab playing with anagrams and no one even blinks. XD I think the best one I can come up with is "nail his gill" for Lillian Gish, so far, but I want to do it with a bunch of old film star's names.
I want to write something about the allure of old films, but I've been putting it off for my entire lunch break because... I'm scared it won't sound as good outside my head. And that makes me a wimp, and I know it, but I'm scared it won't turn out and the only good thing I write here will be a short poem about my scandalous great-great-grandmother Hattie and her illegitimate daughter Belle (my grandfather's mother).
Now how depressing would that be?
One of my Governor's School friends just sent me the Infernokrusher manifesto, and I liked it very, very much ("literary excellence through superior horsepower!"). The first Infernokrusher poem was included:
--
I blew up the plums
that were in the icebox
and which you were probably saving for breakfast
forgive me
I like fire
--
And that made my day. My father says the original poem (so sweet and so cold) every time he buys plums at the grocery store...
And do you know? After writing this entry, I feel like a pretentious faux-literary idiot. I'm sorry.
USPS DELIVER MY BOX PLEEEEASE.
And now I need to get off my fat butt and write the stupid Old Hollywood poem. Will it be a masterwork? Probably not. Should I get it done? Yesssss.
PLAYWRITING WORKSHOP IN SEVENTEEN MINUTES HOORAY.
I want to write something about the allure of old films, but I've been putting it off for my entire lunch break because... I'm scared it won't sound as good outside my head. And that makes me a wimp, and I know it, but I'm scared it won't turn out and the only good thing I write here will be a short poem about my scandalous great-great-grandmother Hattie and her illegitimate daughter Belle (my grandfather's mother).
Now how depressing would that be?
One of my Governor's School friends just sent me the Infernokrusher manifesto, and I liked it very, very much ("literary excellence through superior horsepower!"). The first Infernokrusher poem was included:
--
I blew up the plums
that were in the icebox
and which you were probably saving for breakfast
forgive me
I like fire
--
And that made my day. My father says the original poem (so sweet and so cold) every time he buys plums at the grocery store...
And do you know? After writing this entry, I feel like a pretentious faux-literary idiot. I'm sorry.
USPS DELIVER MY BOX PLEEEEASE.
And now I need to get off my fat butt and write the stupid Old Hollywood poem. Will it be a masterwork? Probably not. Should I get it done? Yesssss.
PLAYWRITING WORKSHOP IN SEVENTEEN MINUTES HOORAY.