I learned today that the Hemingway contest is defunct. I think I’ll just start a thread inviting folk to join in.
I’ve never read any Faulkner, which makes me slightly less confident of my ability to parody it.
Just wanted to say I heard Boyo Jim on “Whad’ Ya Know?* with Michael Feldman”!
I was on a road trip and had the show on, and heard them mention Jim who works at a hospital (The host got the right one by process of elimination).
I thought to myself “hey, I kinda know that guy”
Note that I did NOT know that he would be on beforehand - and I actually only usually listen to show when I am in the car.
Brian
*not much, you?
And when I was surfing news on my phone today while waiting for a take-out order, there was the story on CNN.com! Way to go, Jim!
I talked to my boss today, and I’m gonna work half-time for the next couple of months to write the ‘self-help for slackers’ book. I can’t afford to be paid half-time, but I will use up my accumulated earned leave to keep the full paycheck coming.
I was really disgusted to learn the ‘Bad Hemingway’ competition is no more. I am going to start a thread here and invite Bad Hemingways to post. I’m almost ready – once I figure a simile or metaphor or whatever you call it between starched bed linens and the open sea – I will start that thread.
Internal discussion:
Nice Me: You’ve actually met him. Play nice and congratulate him.
Evil Me: But that contest has perverted Bulwer-Lytton’s legacy into a one-extremely-short-paragraph, O Henry story! To truly do Bulwer-Lytton you must go on for at least one page and simutaneously bore and confuse your reader.
Nice Me: Fuck off. It was good. He’s a friend. He deserves your congratulations.
Evil Me: YOU fuck off. He knows that this is my way of congratulating him. It’s a guy thing.
I read that and I knew I could not tell her because I knew she already knew. Damned bad. She had been with Jack. Damned bad. I wrote. I knew writing and I knew whiskey and I knew bad breaks from good men and I wrote. The old man had told me many things breaking his knuckles on the pine and I knew that making sense was for Paris in the old days. Semicolons kill. Commas only wound.
I have posted my Bad Hemingway parody in a new thread. I hope you will join me in expanding the world’s choices in bad writing.
Word.
I had another interview on Milwaukee Public Radio when I had the opportunity to mention the SDMB by name, and they left that part in the edited interview. It’s about 7 minutes, and you can listen to it here. Click on “Horrible Fiction” at the bottom. This was recorded Thursday of last week and broadcast today.