“James, I really like your fiction—your engaging and often comic style that is. But your content! Please, can you write a story of love and beauty and searching minds reaching for the stars, with a little sunshine, that does not end in some grunge-fest brawl or involve some poor schlep running for his life from that which he most fears? You really had me with IED Davon and Liza Spaz—and you had to bring Whiteboy Wayne into it! Ugh!”
“Please, no rape, no death, and nobody gets eaten—not even a tiny piece. Throw some warm and fuzzy in there for your female readers.”
Okay lady, no death, no rape and no cannibalism. How about if I title it ‘Easy Chair’ a tale of two aspiring poets volunteering for an existential writers’ workshop in order to expand their consciousness and immerse themselves in the music of the spheres?
I’ve got to post it by 2:00 p.m. 4/10/15 or I suck!
Thank you. I guess I should have added amputations and chilling nightmares to the list of elements to avoid. Silly me.
You are excellent at what you write best: imaginative and unexpected twists in the story.
Sincerely,
Celine
Thanks for the idea—I had a good time.
Just to be fair I would not suggest asking me to write a Thanksgiving story.