Mon 31 May 2010
“This piece birthed itself out of frustration. I read a number of flashes on a writing site I belong to that had had titles like Slut-Whore or Killing Retards.” –Lucinda Kempe From “Outrageous Writing” below. Caution: strong language.
FLASHING ON Z
By Lucinda Kempe
I am writing. A sentence. Then another. Stop. Think. Ah, ha! More. Literally streams of words. I am …new lexis. Yes, I’m composing with variety. How marvelous: the sheer brilliance of the act. Now, where was I? Scripting language strings, lost in the evolutionary sea of me. Hooray! I am creating with verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns and prepositions. Boy o’ boy o’! Is this coming along or what? Wait! I ponder therefore I am. What? Focus now. I believe I can sense, no, feel, yes…push…push…harder…there’s the tuft at the top – another hot damn original sentence of mine. Yes, – I AM BIRTHING ‘EM PLURAL. And…I do it again, ditto, redux and ibid.
Oops! Lotta “I’s”. Excuse me. Pretend you didn’t see. [Nice! Second person.]
Let’s count the wonder; one hundred and twenty-five words. Wow-Oh!
It was an obsidian and tumultuous dusk outside the rabbit hole when Bunnit B. heard a ricocheting sound. He riveted his fur to attention, wriggled his toes in the three-inch pumps and danced the Sirtaki from “Zorba the Greek.”
What else? Ah, yes, titillation.
There was a pussy cunt sitting on the stoop outside of La Casa on the corner of Bienville and Charters. She was hot and irritated. If I see one more cock saluting and begging to find its way up my ass, I’m gonna sharpen Mama’s Sabatier and slice the tip of the son-of-a-bitch off, she thought furiously[catch that adverb!].
Oops! Better check the commas for the punctuationists, and the tenses for the grammarians. Now, let’s make reference: Pinter, Ionesco, O’Neill, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Yates, Oates and Boats. Boats? Who the F? Crappers! Yes, a curse for the religious objectors and hold on, Pederast, Pedant, Prescient and Pedophile for the literati.
Am I done? Aw shit, dialogue.
“Didn’t feel good.”
“How did it feel?”
“Cold could be good.”
“Yeah, but she sneezed.”
Voila! Vunderbar. Supreme. Divine. Weltanschauung. Weltanschauung? What the flying? Never mind. Wrap her up. Brake, baby, I feel another sentence cuming (wheeeeeeeeeeeee) oooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!
Disclaimer: None of this is based on anything I have ever witnessed, experienced, done, watched, read or wrote. It happens by osmosis and I did not do it to the mouse. In truth, the mouse did it to me and we have a happy union these days because he’s found a better hole to live in than his prior residence.
This piece birthed itself out of frustration. I read a number of flashes on a writing site I belong to that had had titles like Slut-Whore or Killing Retards. They had shocking language, but not much else in character content or story line other than the bold words. Yet, little balloons kept appearing next to the author’s names, and a few other writers were cheering. Bravo! Dazzling! Daring etc…
The reactions were appalling. I began with a bit of satire, initially retaliatory, about the writing process. I pretended to be a highly self-regarded writer, and ended spoofing all sorts of writers and the process, including myself.
I thought about openings, titillation, language rules, pretentiousness, and dialogue.
Rereading FOZ, I paused at the zinger aimed at the punctuationists and grammarians. I neglected language rules early in my writing history because I was ignorant of them. One of my first critics advised, “Commas are your friends!” Since then, I’ve grown as a writer and gotten to know, and almost like my “friends”. Honestly, some of the errors in FOZ were mistakes I was blissfully unaware of at the time.
Oh, one last admission. Regarding the word Weltanschauung, I actually used it in one story for all the wrong reasons. Seems I have a lot more in common with that other writer than I originally thought.
Finally, I composed a disclaimer for what else, fun. “And that,” said Pooh, “is that!”
Lucinda Kempe is a fifty-almost-two year old housewife, with two special-needs teenagers, an electrical Greek husband, a Rag Doll named Handsome, a common cat named Mitten K.T., and a very black Labrador named Comus. This is her first public submission. She hopes it won’t be her last.