write drunk, edit sober

A few months ago, I came across the quote "write drunk, edit sober" and decided to give it a try. I thought it would create some great blog entries where I could display both the drunken piece and the finished product to show how much stories transform during the revision process. I tried to do this a grand total of three times before coming to the conclusion that I am awful at it.

Try #1:

I started drinking after dinner and only managed to write this sentence before it was 3 in the morning. Then I woke Nick up and told him that drunk writing was really hard over and over again until he made me go to bed.

" We started dTING ON THE DAY THE TITANIC SANK. I PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THAT AS A SIGN.

s"

Try #2:

Then on my second try, all I could think about was how unpleasant it was the first time.

" My first attempt at drunk writing was difficult. I was up to lte and rather thn writing, I woke Nick up at 3 in the morning to rell him hosw difficult it was to write drun over and over until eh put me to bed

sMy eyes are heavy and  fell like Im;s goin to fall asleep."

Try #3:

For the third try, Nick tried to inspire me by setting up a print of a cat wearing a ruff that was in Mark Twain's home. This cat made an appearance in every bed time story Twain told his daughters.

" NIck placed the print of the cat in the ruff on the T.V stand along with a bag of Beggin; Strips and his iPhonr and told me to write anout each object in one story. The cat’s eyes stared at me. I didn’t know what t d do with them. All it made me do was thin k about mu few times with cats. My Aunti had cats hat I used to love until one day it sunk it’s claws into m ylegs when we took a photo. In my family, my brothers and I were deemed old enough to have pets when we were ten.  AAs my birthday aopriached, I was set in e a calico cat, My parernts prepared for this despite the fact they were both dog peopke and bout cat suppliesl Then a few days beforem y birthday, I decided that I wantd a dog. Then I got a dog, and I t was awesome. My bes t friend did not like odhs until she met my dig, sena. She is still a cat person but it’ is nice to know tha the first dog she ever likd was Seana"

It's pretty obvious that these are just drunken ramblings and no amount of editing can save them. When I brought up my failure at this writing technique with my friend Corrie, she pointed out that the quote most likely came from an alcoholic who needed to be drunk just to function like a normal person.

This made me feel better. After all, if I have to fail at something, I'm glad it's alcoholism. 






much love,
hedgie

more new england writers

I have new places to add to the growing list of famous places Addie has peed in. Edward Gorey's backyard and just outside the cemetery H.P. Lovecraft was buried in. So buckle in and prepare yourself for another roller coaster of facts about writers.

--Stalking Target 4: Edward Gorey

His home in Massachusetts.

This house is, interestingly enough, located on Strawberry Lane, which I find very strange. Gorey bought it without much inspection. He just glanced through the windows and that was it. He also did not move into this house until a few years after he officially bought it.

His favorite restaurant was Jack's Outback. He framed the last waffle of the Millennium that was made there and hung it in his kitchen. It is 13 years old. Our tour guide was Gorey's first cousin (She can be seen in The Deranged Cousins. She is Rose Marshmary) and she told us that when he did cook, he enjoyed very complicated recipes. Once he stayed with her and cooked dinner that was entirely blue.

G is for George smothered under a rug.

The theme for the house this year is The Vinegar Works, which include The Gashlycrumb Tinies. So you can find all 25 children's deaths around the house. In the backyard, there is a tiny graveyard with headstones to represent each one.

He also sewed a lot. This came in handy when he was the designer for Dracula. When he won a Tony for his work, he didn't bother attending the ceremony and gave the statue to a friend who returned it to this museum after his death.

He collected almost everything. His collections include rocks, wood potato mashers, thick, metal rings, books, antique cheese graters, and tickets to every play he went to. His cousin said that he loved flea markets and whenever he found a metal object that the seller could figure out what it was, he would almost always buy it. He also collected so much stuff that an entire room was blocked off because no one could squeeze into it anymore.

One of his main characteristics was that he just liked to let everything be true to their nature. He let his backyard become overgrown and allowed his many, many cats do this to his furniture. He owned up to 7 cats at a time and when he died, his ashes were mixed with the ashes of 6 of his cats. Half of the ashes were scattered at Barnstable Harbor. The other half were scattered behind the house.

--Stalking Target 5: H.P. Lovecraft

His grave in Rhode Island.

Since this is just a grave marker, I don't really have a lot of interesting facts about this man. But what I do know is that this does not mark where his body actually lies. Though he is buried somewhere within the family plot, he only got his own headstone in the 70's when fans bought one for him. But this actually worked out for the best because in the late 90's, a group of people tried to dig him up but failed because they mysteriously gave up digging after 3 feet.

 Apparently, a Horseshoe Crab exoskeleton is an appropriate offering.

This has nothing to do with Lovecraft (OR DOES IT!?!?), but Addie really freaked out in the cemetery. We left her in the car and she whined and barked until Nick and I got back into the car and drove out past the front gate.



much love,
hedgie

buster doodle

Boyfriend got a new gadget today and it has a cool drawing app on it. This is the first thing I decided to draw on it. If you have ever talked to me for longer than five minutes, then you will know my burning love for Buster Keaton. If you haven't, then you're welcome for the wonderful journey ahead of you now.

much love,
hedgie

tea flash fiction

This, my flashiest of fictions, is the third installment of pieces based off the "Ten Things I Love" List started by my friend Bonnie.

3) 24-hour diners

            She took a sip of her tea and finished it.

            “What do your tea leaves say?” he asked.

            She looked into the tiny porcelain cup, but even if she had any idea how to read tea leaves, she still would have been at a loss for words. There was nothing lying at the bottom of her cup. “I guess I don’t have a future,” she said, pointing the cup at him so he could see in to it from across the table.

            He filled her teacup again from the silver pot that was between them. “Try it again.”

            She picked the cup back up and drained it in one gulp. But still, there was nothing. She just sat there and stared down into it.

            He leaned forward and refilled it. “Be careful this time,” he said. “You can’t keep drinking your life away.”

much love,
hedgie