A badminton racquet would work too

The part of my brain that handles the writing (and, for some reason, stores info on one-hit wonder bands from the ’80s) seems to be waking up after a long and soul-crushing winter. The writing is not flowing freely. Yet. But ideas are starting to form. I like that.

I thought that my muse had, after much neglect, finally skipped town. I was even thinking about what I would put in a craigslist ad for a new one:

Must be willing to lavish praise on me.
Must be a fan of Arrested Development.
Must be open to disciplining me with a ping pong padd– nevermind.

I started a short story the other day. I am relatively pleased with the first few hundred words. But the concept is so out there (even by my standards) that it has to be handled carefully. Or, you know, I can just say “fuck it” and write it up and post it.

I have a basic outline for the new novel. I have some “scenes” mapped out. But I’m not sure about it. I think that I can make it funny, but…

Here’s the thing:

I fell in love a little with the characters in my novella.

And, frankly, I don’t like new people.

I typed that as “Anne Frankly” at first. That’s just weird.

Maybe as I keep writing, I’ll grow to like the new characters just as much. Maybe. In the meantime, I am listening to a tonne of new music during writing time. Seriously. I’ve tracked down a lot of new music this week. (Ask the friends that I am inundating with it.)

Perhaps I should take a writing break and listen to music for a while. I just thought of “The Real World: Anne Frank Edition.”

Blake, from Flint, MI, enters the diary room.

“Where to start? I’ve been here two days… Steven is the angriest token black gay guy EVER. Marissa keeps crawling out from under guys to tell us that she isn’t a whore. And Anne dives into the broom closet any time the doorbell rings. This place is fucked.”

0 thoughts on “A badminton racquet would work too

  1. I like the sound of Anne Frank / Real World combo.

    One of my co-workers went to see the house where she hid and came back all fixated and over-sensitive about what had happened – I should add she’d never shown an interest in it until then and is not german, nor jewish. We had fun with that..

    “Hey, did you hear they’re going to do Anne Frank the Musical?”


    “Yeah. The only problem is they all have to sing really quietly…”

    It went on for weeks. I think I’m going to hell, but it was hilarious.

  2. Read your little Anne Frank: Real World Edition and could help thinking, “Aaaah Peter’s taken my advice and finally decided to use acid to fuel his imagination.” That reminds me Gonzo is playing at the Labia … erm we have a cinema named the Labia, just in case that sentence leads to some sort of misunderstanding.

  3. hi. i just started reading your blog, which i found via someone else’s blog, via someone else’s blog, probably ad infinitum. i added you to my rss feed because, well, you’re hilarious. and you’re canadian (i’m half-canadian), and i don’t have enough canadian bloggers in my rss feed. (although, can you ever have too many canadian bloggers in your feed, really?)

    i chose this post to comment on, because i recently succumbed to “arrested development” peer pressure, and now, i can’t hear “the final countdown” without bursting into laughter. i have G.O.B. to thank for that, and maybe (maeby?) the writers of the show.

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