MY FIRST SHORT, SHORT STORY
Once upon a time there was a person named _________________
_____________________________. Secretly, she wished that she
(my name)
______________________________________________.
(one different life)
One time I saw her _________________________________. Next
(a thing I enjoy doing)
thing I knew she was ______________________________________.
(one of the tiny changes)
Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me if she went wild and
__________________________________________________.
(something I don't have to do perfectly)
As matter of fact, I'd like it if she did that. I might just try
a few new things myself.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
WRITE YOUR RANT AND THEN SING OPERA
Writers really never know what they really think until they write it down. Sometimes I write on a napkin in a restaurant, in my journal, or on computer. If something (like an insurance company) or someone is bugging me, I just rapidly write down all I can on the topic. Then I quickly write from someone else's point of view about it. Then as an imaginary third party watching the scene from the sideline. (Never get confused and email this to anyone!! You will look scary or crazy.)
But, what usually happens in the middle of the rant is that another new, fresh voice chimes in. A new perspective on the issue. I feel a weight lift. Solutions pour out. If have gone from raw feelings to hope.
When I sing this rough rant in my fake opera voice, perspective shifts and I start laughing or crying because I am finally ranted out. I have hit the truth, or it hits me. I can't sing a lie. My frustration+creativity has turned into fun. Even if funny only to me.
The truth is . . . most everything is bearable, light and even funny once you get to the highest note of truth at the end of a well-ranted opera.
Maestro! "I'm the cheese in this office insurance panini. I belong on Saturday Night Live. Someone swoop me up."
But, what usually happens in the middle of the rant is that another new, fresh voice chimes in. A new perspective on the issue. I feel a weight lift. Solutions pour out. If have gone from raw feelings to hope.
When I sing this rough rant in my fake opera voice, perspective shifts and I start laughing or crying because I am finally ranted out. I have hit the truth, or it hits me. I can't sing a lie. My frustration+creativity has turned into fun. Even if funny only to me.
The truth is . . . most everything is bearable, light and even funny once you get to the highest note of truth at the end of a well-ranted opera.
Maestro! "I'm the cheese in this office insurance panini. I belong on Saturday Night Live. Someone swoop me up."
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