You clock out of work. The punch card weighs heavy in your hand. You go straight home. Your Story has been waiting up, pacing the apartment, peering through the blinds. There’s a pair of empty wine bottles in the sink. Incense sticks line the coffee table. They’ve been ashed all the way down. Candle wax has dripped across the varnish. Three empty sleeves of Girl scout cookies lay crinkled on the couch.
In just a few days Minnesotans will be given the choice to amend their constitution to deny gay people the right to marry (a right they didn’t already have). Civil rights issues don’t usually get put to a vote. Imagine what would have happened if Brown vs. The Board of Education had been put to a vote. Do you think we’d have integrated schools today? What about if Affirmative Action had been put to a vote? I didn’t think so.
I’m trying to find the name for a very particular faux pas. One that I’ve had far more experience with than I care to admit (I might have to switch perspectives from first to second just to distance myself from it).
This faux pas happens when you’re trying to impress new people with your sparkling whit. You decide to play stand up comedian and shine a spotlight on some unspoken truth, a universal thought that only you have the charisma to articulate. Then you realize you’re the only person in the room that this thought has ever occurred to. Continue reading A New Faux Pas
Well bub, I’ve been published. So put that in you’re corncob pipe and smoke it.
My apologies. Where might I procure this magnum opus of yours? Continue reading “Phantasmagorical” and Other Fifty-cent Words
As a writing exercise, I thought I’d explore some projects that almost came to light. I’ve got a laundry list of false starts and half hearted finishes. They’re worth exploring to see just how far the flame of inspiration got me when it died out. This is a graveyard for all those brilliant ideas that didn’t survive the test of time. Continue reading Orphan Projects
The dream always sets me in the middle of the building, far from a source of natural light. The space yearns for windows, for a skylight, for a glass panel above the doorways, something. Instead there are miles of low hanging ceiling tiles, oppressive fluorescent lights, industrial air-conditioning vents. There are a few scant variations in the terrain. Dips in the carpet. Steps that lead to lounging parlors. The seats are chiseled into the floor. There are plants drooping over the edges. They starve for photosynthesis. For all I know, I’m deep underground. Continue reading In the Halls of Sleep
Continuing my theme of Halloween viewing suggestions, here are some of my favorite scary episodes of The X-Files. Continue reading Drew’s Favorite Spooky Episodes of The X-Files
In Stephen King’s book On Writing he tells the story of how his first novel Carrie was almost scrapped. This was back when he was making sixty-four hundred dollars a year teaching high school English. Back when King and his wife Tabitha (a budding author in her own right) lived in a doublewide trailer. He would later dub the town they called home, “the asshole of the world.” He typed the first few pages from the laundry room. The churning washing machine set the mood. Uncertain of his concept or the likeability of his characters, King crumpled up the first draft. He chucked it in the waste basket with the cigarette butts and the beer cans.
In the spirit of Halloween I’ve decided to sell you on my favorite TV show of all time: The X-Files. The entire series is on Netflix and iTunes. You have no excuse. These are my top ten funny episodes. The following episodes are filled with the whit, charm and the banter that made me fall in love with these characters. If you’ve ever kicked at the tires of this series, may you start with these fine selections.
Another night another dream about teeth. They fall from your gums. A rotten, cracked, ivory rain. Coffee stained marbles rattle down the drain. They fill up the bathroom sink. Look up. Your reflection smiles like a Jack-o-lantern. There’s a hail storm brewing between those lips. Continue reading The Tooth Abductee