Damn. I was thinking y'all wanted to be done with this cast of characters (many of whom I believe I may have created: Mona, Nick. Roger, Ed, Jen, Missy and johnboy) and would want to get into some new territory. Evidentally not.
I appreciate the spontaneity of the action. There sure is a lot of action, but I'm reminded of Holden Caulfield being instructed to
write something "descriptive as Hell." I'll do that until I get killed off by Hiama or Visitor et al:
Johnboy sinks deeper into his seat at the Reds' stadium with the passage of each inning. He would much prefer being asleep in the van right now; Ed and the the chirpiness of Jen and Missy kind of backed him into a corner, though. He was told that going to this game would be fun. He knew that that was wrong, of course, but what could he say?
Johnboy hears the stadium organist play "Doodle-Imp-Ta-Doo" followed by the crowds' response of "Charge." For the 20th time.
Johnboy is sad, which for a gothboy is good.
He goes for a walk.
<<He goes for a walk.>>
The general in the blimp motions to one of his muscular henchmen, pointing at the solitary figure leaving the ballpark. The henchman shoulders a rifle and takes aim. BAM!!!!! Gothboy is gone for good. The general mumbles, "One down, six to go....."
(You asked for it!)
The general is operating under the false assumption that the six friends left are the only ones who know of the secret government plot involving the Chronosynclastic Infidubla. He does not know that Missy has been successful in getting Derek's ashes to her friend, Howard Nussbaum, now head of the CIA. It is only a matter of time until Howard puts all the pieces...um, ashes...together and realizes the true intent of the Infidubla...
Meanwhile, back home in Texas, a young, vulnerable, sweet, buddingly beautiful girl takes her dishes to the sink and kisses her mother good bye for the day.
"I'm off to school," chirps Blossom Flower, as she heaves her massive back pack over her shoulder for her quick trip to the high school down the street.
"Bye, honey, have a nice day," calls her mother as Blossom Flower skips down the front steps of her quaint, yet humble home.
"Hey, Blossom," calls the guy next door as he heaves his huge back pack over his shoulder and runs to catch up with Blossom. He's been waiting for her to emerge from her front door for the past 15 minutes, but wants to look as if he's simply happened upon her.
"Gee," says Richard Lightheart, "I'm glad I ran into you. I've been studying for my Calculus exam and I'm stumped on one problem from the study guide. I'm really worried about it too because you know the exam is tomorrow and I have to get at least a 98 to out do Gus and make sure I'm in the running for valedictorian next year when we graduate. I was wondering, Blossom if you'd help me tonight. I know you have no trouble with Calculus."
Blossom is surprised and thrilled to be asked to help. She just loves helping others. It makes her feel powerful and invincible. She doesn't even mind that Richard is competing with Gus. She's even less concerned that he doesn't seem to understand that his real competition is none other than herself. After all it's not her fault that he's not as smart as she is. She knows he'll be surprised when he discovers she's out done him next year for the valedictorian position. But hey, he needs the honor to be elegible for a scholorship to Harvard, and she knows her parents wisely established an educational trust for her before she was born. She'll have no worry about paying for college. Poor Richard, he'll be so disappointed to have to take second best. But that's what he gets for being such a self centered prick and not noticing her competitive superiority. She's so unselfish, as a matter of fact, that she'll gladly help him make a good grade on his test so he can feel powerful and boost his self esteem. Blossom knows that Richard doesn't feel very good about himself because he's constantly trying to out do everyone else in the school. If he were more like her, she thinks, he wouldn't be so concerned about the opinions of others. She believes she can help him be less concerned about his own wishes, and more concerned for the welfare of others. If she's very giving, maybe Richard will learn by her excellent example.
"Oh, Richard," says Blossom. "You know I love to study with you. How about if we meet right after the afternoon Bible study at Mr. Christiansen's house. About 6:30? Oh no, now that I think about it we should eat our dinner first, because our folks will want us to be at home for mealtime. How about 7:30, your house?"
"Gee," says Richard, "that's nifty."
(johnboy, do you think Holden would be proud? Is it descriptive as hell enough?)
I don't know about johnboy or Holden, but I'm impressed! Okay, rjb, you are right, I will try for more descriptive prose. Although I'm not sure any of us can beat Lola at the "inner dialogue" thing.
I had a thought here. (Good idea or bad idea? You tell me.)
What if we all draw upon our strengths and write same story from these perspectives? (feel free to change yours if I'm wrong here...)
realjohnboy -- character introduction & descriptions
Lola -- inner dialogue
hiama -- sex scenes / plot
HofT -- mechanics
dyslexia -- plot twists
Visitor -- plot / tie up loose ends
dlowan -- running commentary
others?
???
Visitor-its Ok with me though we have found over the years here and at the other place that its difficult to inject too much formal structure as most people are on different time zones, have different demands on their time etc and its easier sometimes just to extemporise and just be plain silly. I'm happy to go along with what ever is agreed however.
So maybe some of the others could give their two pennyworth.
<plickening> yuck yuck, Dys
I wonder if we have now moved so faraway from the male/female idea that we should start a new thread for this. We've been ignoring the title of this thread for some time now.
I think what you've written, visitor is very impressive in that you have it down, what our strengths (and weaknesses) seem to be. But I'm with HIAMA, around here, too much structure ruins the sandwich (not to mention the spontaneity). Perhaps we can (and probably will anyway) continue on as we have, doing exactly what Visitor has outlined above.
In the meantime, should I start a new thread?
The silliness is exactly what keeps me coming back here.
Okay, that was a bad idea. It's alright, I'll have more!
No need to start a new thread...I shall pick up the pieces and (as Hiama would say) move on. Back to the story...
-----------------
Blossom flips her long, naturally blonde hair out of her eyes and skips down the front steps of her porch on her way to Richard's for their study date. "I'll be so glad when I'm finally sixteen and can go on real dates," she thinks. Only one more year to go.
Knocking on the screen door of Richard's house, Blossom lets herself in. The Flowers and Lighthearts have been next door neighbors for longer than any of them can remember. Blossom remembers when she was so small she couldn't turn the doorknob by herself, and Mrs. Lightheart would have to put down her feather duster and let Blossom in for milk and cookies. They were not only next door neighbors, but best friends. They would always be a part of each others' lives.
"Richard?" Blossom calls out. There is no noise in the house except for the droning of the television.
Richard sits on the sofa in the den, surrounded by his family. Mr. Lightheart (a tax accountant), Mrs. Lightheart (homemaker), Lily (Richard's annoying little sister), and their two dogs, Snort and Buster, are all staring at the television. An important news bulletin has just interrupted programming.
"Can you believe it?" Richard says, turning to Blossom. "Some nutcase up North is shooting at people from a blimp!"
Visitor...For the record, your General shot the wrong Goth. johnboy didn't leave the stadium. He prowled the service area that was underneath the upper deck of the stadium. The realjohnboy was putting the goth kid into the stadium in Montreal. Ever been there? So I reckon it was collateral damage, but it was only a Goth after all. Who cares?
I haven't taken the time to read all of the new postings. Looks like we may have a new story-line. Cool. -realjohboy-
I think Lola's new story-line is great! I'm looking forward to finding (or introducing) a character I can identify with and build on that.
It seems to me that the alternating male/female instruction is anachronistic. That rule should not be enforced.
Perhaps it is important for some people to quickly introduce violence and mayhem into a story. So be it. Life has some dark corners, and the evil or the sadness that lurks there should not be excluded.
My gentle admonition would be this: Let's develop (flesh out) these characters. The story doesn't have to end tomorrow. Let's find out who these people are and where their heads are at.
Lola: I think Holden would want to know more about the backpacks.
Color? Texture? -sorry---realjohnjerk-
Nick, finding the only redeeming feature of baseball being the 7th inning strech, heads out for western skies. Pulling into East Orange he notices an immediate cultural diaspora of emigrants seeking solace from the boutiques of lavender and fushia personalities. He buys a jug of Thunderbird and settles into the back seat of his GMC Jimmy. The ladies may think penguins are cute but Nick knows that ladies love outlaws. He falls asleep. In the post dawn Lola raps on his car window with a fresh cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain. Life is good.
yes, I think you're right, rjb. I'll work on that. How about if I start a new thread?
Fine by me!
Will you include dyslexia's & my last posts?
rjb -- interesting, isn't it? At the beginning of all this, it was assumed that women would write all the descriptive passages while men would be all action. It hasn't turned out that way here, has it?! I suppose that means we're not typical...which I will take as a compliment, thankuverymuch.
How did Nick know that Lola loved outlaws? Is she that transparent? Is she too easy? In the hands of an outlaw, Lola is...........putty.
Knock, knock..............."hey, Nick," she says, "would you like a cup of coffee?"
Lola wrote:Mona turns out the light and turns back to Nick beside her. More folding of wounds to be done and the President will have to take care of himself....................
Mona empties the bottle of the small amount of bourbon left. Maybe a half-inch in the glass by her bed in the small room she again calls home in Midlothian.
Not to worry, she thinks, there's some gin around here somewhere.
It's been a tough month for Mona. She kind of disappeared after Nick got caught up with...well, being Nick. Her friend, Lola, got concerned about her. An unexpected friend, johnboy, a happily sad goth boy, has traced Mona back through many pages.
