Blogger Blather

Remember this post from a few weeks ago about my entering the annual Bulwer-Lytton fiction contest?

If you’re too lazy to click the above link, here’s a refresher: now in its 27th year, the Bulwer-Lytton contest lauds bad writing.  “The goal of the contest is childishly simple: entrants are challenged to submit bad opening sentences to imaginary novels.”

Well, the results are in and I got a “dishonorable mention” in the “Detective” category.  The contest gets a ton of entries so I’m flattered for the (dis)recognition; but I have to admit I was a little bummed that out of the entries I submitted, this was the one to get selected.  I thought some of my others were stronger.

So, here’s my dishonorable mention winning entry:

Darnell knew he was getting hung out to dry when the D.A. made him come clean by airing other people’s dirty laundry; the plea deal was a new wrinkle and there were still issues to iron out, but he hoped it would all come out in the wash – otherwise he had folded like a cheap suit for nothing.

Lynn Lamousin
Baton Rouge, LA

And here are my non-winning entries.  (Maybe too good?  After all the contest is for “bad” writing.)

David was a dream come true – a man who loved her as unconditionally as her cat did – if only Emily could get him to use the litter box instead of peeing all over her toilet seat.

The author of this novel wishes to state that even though the main character and I share a name, and the names of all the other characters match the names of my family members, and the setting of the story is my hometown, and the events did take place, this book is a work of fiction.

Gringle the Elf grumbled through Christmas cookie crusted lips, “You wouldn’t be so fat if you had to eat the oatmeal ones.”

Sex with Bonnie was like a day at Six Flags – after you meet the size requirement and came aboard you saw that the ride was full of wide curves, big hills and bumpy tracks, and when it was over and you were ready to get off you felt like leaning over and puking up a funnel cake.

As Roberta reclined on the pillow, Vince looked up at their reflection in the motel’s mirrored ceiling; boy was he craving two eggs over easy with a side of link sausage.

BTW, here is this year’s overall contest winner.  He’s already getting tons of press.  (Jealous!)

Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin’ off Nantucket Sound from the nor’ east and the dogs are howlin’ for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the “Ellie May,” a sturdy whaler Captained by John McTavish; for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin’ and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests.

David McKenzie
Federal Way, WA

And finally, a shout out to Scott Rice, professor at San Jose State University, for creating and continuing such a fun contest.

Today I had a “cupcake epiphany” — NO MORE WORK FOR FREE!

I was super-busy last week — and almost all of it was filled with “freebies.”

When I had steady gigs I didn’t mind helping out a friend or an organization every now and then — but now all the free work is still there and all the paying jobs are gone.  I am officially done.

I call it a “cupcake epiphany” because my friend Hollis for like a year was making cupcakes and selling them at a couple of local coffee shops.  She would give the money to her daughter as allowance.  But a couple of weeks ago she made like 100 cupcakes and then she said she just looked at them and thought — this is ridiculous — and instead of icing them she tossed them all in a garbage bag and put them at the curb.

So, the cupcake epiphany is when you realize that the effort you are putting into something isn’t worth what you are getting out of it.

If you’ve been getting pro bono/freebie/gratis work out of me.  It stops now.

I think what brought on my cupcake epiphany was that out of the blue I’ve had two requests to screen my movie at public events.  It’s like I suddenly remembered I deserve better than the discards that have been coming my way.

My life and career were going along pretty well for several years (and I felt really proud of myself) and then all of a sudden it’s like someone pulled the emergency brake and all my forward movement stopped.

Gotta get that car in drive again!  No hitchhikers allowed!

Move over pottery and knitting, there’s a new lame middle age craze — painting parties.

A couple of weeks ago my sister, niece and I checked out Corks n Canvas.  Here’s how they describe what they offer (from their website):

“Looking for a fun evening out with friends while creating your own masterpiece?  We have the answer! Bring your favorite bottle of wine or beverage, and paint a picture along with a local artist. She will show you step-by-step how to paint a beautiful work of art that you will take home at the end of the evening.”

I have to admit, it was kind of fun.  But I was disappointed because they don’t really teach you how to paint.  Our class was sold out (36 people).  And EVERYONE’S painting of the “Dirty Martini” (including the instructor’s) looked awful.  A big part of the problem was that the painting shown on the website was not the one they had on display.  So everyone’s perspective was off (it’s tough to show depth — looking down into the glass) because we were copying something that didn’t look right to begin with.

On the left is the sample shown on the website.  (But, as mentioned, this was not what they had on display at the gallery.)  And on the right is my “masterpiece.”  LOL!