deb-- at one point "inspired" by one or two YA romances I started writing a romance about a high school band. I think I was still in middle school so didn't even have any first hand experience with high school and I knew next to nothing about music. I probably had 10 cassettes and albums (total) -- the ones I can remember were: Bon Jovi, a-ha, Olivia Newton-John, the Beach Boys and the soundtrack to Stand By Me.
It was terrible with pages and pages devoted to the characters clothes, they changed more than Cher during a concert and half way through I changed everyone's names.
That I destroyed.
I'm not quite sure how you tell bad Hemingway takeoffs from Hemingway, but here goes:
At 5 o'clock I was in my kitchen waiting for Joe. I was making drinks. They weren't very good drinks, but I was hoping the amount of vodka would help them.
Joe came in. He needed a shave.
"What is this?"
"Salad spinner."
"Bill had one of those."
"Yes. He had one."
"Did you see Sue? She's hot."
"Yes. Hot."
"It's hot in here."
"Yes. Hot."
"We should go. For Mexican."
"Yes. Hot."
"You like to eat, don't you?"
"I like a lot of things."
"Then let's go for Mexican."
"Sue was hot, wasn't she?"
"Don't be a damned fool."
Hee! And I'm with Ginger on not seeing much difference between bad Hemingway and well, just Hemingway.
sputter
It's the "don't be a damned fool" that just killed me. Oh. My. Fan-tastic.
I don't think I'm anywhere close to getting the hang of Hemingway. So, I'll just do more of what I seem to be good at, the overblown adverbs.
Just The Way You Look, Tonight
Oh, the pain! The pain of it all!
How can one man survive the pinpoints of despair that pierce the brain and heart? What aching shards of agonizing regret is there to rue?
Oh, pain, hurt me not so grievously!
If only I had spoken falsely. If I’d spoken sweet words of deception and turned her wrath, what surcease!
But I told. And the pain! Oh, the pain!
Nothing can save me now! I’m doomed to eternal torment, bound to the rocks with vultures to tear my skin and pierce my flesh.
“No, dear, it doesn’t make you look fat.”
muHA!
(tangent) You know, I've never quite understood why anyone would ask whether something looked shitty and then been upset with a truthful answer. If I ask that question, I expect a truthdul answer.
How did that stereotype get started? Does anyone know?
Not a clue, Deb. I'm sure it's been around since cavemen first started wearing animal skins.
I'm sure it's been around since cavemen first started wearing animal skins.
Yes, but that presupposes that some cavewoman put on a mastodon miniskirt, asked if she looked fat in it, was told yes, and then beaned Thag with a sabre tooth jawbone or something.
My real bewilderment is at the idea that it got started because some women prefer to be lied to. Dude. Do I want to go out in something that makes me look like a tuba in stilettos? IOW, if I wanted to be lied to, why would I ask?
Never mind. I'm a freak, possibly.
