Question

I read this blog called I'll Never Forget the Day I a Book, which is pretty boss. The author reviews books, as well as post interesting questions. In a recent post, he asked about what makes literature "literature." Here's a link to his post.

Leave your comments, and I'll try to think my way through this question.

Music Project: "Lollipop" by Mika

Thou Shalt

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt n…

Matt’s hand cramps. He has written the commandment as punishment 178 times. Only 72 more “Thou shalt nots,” and then he presents it to his mother for approval and rebuke. The cramp slowly leaves, but it takes him back to his transgression.

Matt sat alone on the playground. He always does; his mother doesn’t want him playing with the “unwashed.” So, he sits alone, and watches the rest of the fifth grade class play during recess. He once begged Ms. Carpwhipple to stay inside, but she replied,

“Matthew, your mother may not allow you to play, but you still need to be out there with your friends.”

Friends? The girls found him off putting and strange, while the other boys bullied. Only Katie ever talked to Matt. Across the playground his classmates were playing, but at her Matt focused his attention. She was playing double dutch with Sally Jenkins, Dorothy Rosenberg, and Madison Sudweeks, and at each jump her uniformed skirt came up a little higher. Matt tried to look away, but found himself entranced. Katie’s arms found their way to the sky. Matt saw her young skin and smiled. His thoughts turned to her, her chest and possibilities, the brownies she’d make for him….

Adelaide’s voice shattered his thoughts.

“Oh my God! What’s in your pants?”

Sitting at the table, Matt smiles a little more. Only 72 more to go, but all he can think about is brownies. In between the commandments, he begins writing

It is worth it.

It is worth it.
It is

Music Project: "18 and Life" by Skid Row

The Fantastically Mediocre Life of Gary

“There’s a paper jam in the copy machine again.”

The disembodied voice penetrated the cubicle wall but reached only Gary’s ears. Slowly he arises from his ergonomically made chair and exits his cluttered work area into the microcosm that is SubStandard Insurance (It’s for the people!). He goes to work on the enjambment but his mind is not in the work no it is back on a picture he happened upon on Facebook which Jake his high school friend posted and tagged from my “glory days.” This was when I had hair, luxurious locks that graced my shoulders and hid the pockmarks. I was damn hard, and all the chicks digged me and Ricky. Jake, not so much. I remember my first tape; it was Iron Maiden’s Number of the Beast. This was before Nirvana destroyed my music, before I knocked Charlotte up with our first kid. Gary, how’s that jam coming? It’s coming, sir. I’m almost done. He focuses on the task, but how can I concentrate when my life’s in the shits? I wasn’t ready to be a father at eighteen, and I’ve been here ever since, scratching a life for an ungrateful family. Why can’t you make more, Gerald? She only calls me Gerald when she’s pissed. Lately she’s been that. The kids aren’t much better. They won’t even talk to me; they’re ashamed of me, the minivan, the small house we rent out because I can’t afford better. I try talking, but they just put those damn earbuds in and tune out. Gary, I have customers waiting for estimates; could you hurry up just a teeny bit? Well Carol, this jam is pretty big. You’re going to need professional help. You are the profess… No, not anymore. I need help. Gary? Gary, why are you shaking?

Music Project: An Introduction

Here's the idea. I am reshaping this blog into a creative writing source. In the next few weeks, I will be posting roughs of flash stories specifically revolving around songs given me by classmates, professors, readers, etc. What I want to achieve with this project is demonstrate a link between writing and music. How so?

I like music because of the stories I hear. Whether it's Clutch, Marvin Gaye, Talib Kweli, or Vivaldi, I see images coming from the lyrics and the musical movements. My problem til now is I usually don't know how to present these images into stories. One advantage of using a blog for the writing process is to get your input. Do the images make sense? Do you see the same story? If not, what do you see? As music is largely interpretative, readers will respond to these songs differently than I do. I just hope you see the creativity, and if not, appreciate the try.

So, with that terrible introduction, I look forward to your comments on these flash stories. If you like them, tell your friends, and send in more songs for this project.

Cheers,

Mike

Creative Writing

For my final project in this class, I have decided to experiment on my versatility. I have asked friends and classmates for favorite or good songs. This playlist will serve as the basis of a series of flash stories and poems. I will listen to the songs, try to find the stories and images. I will post progress on this blog as cross genres and media.
Here are a few of the songs given to me:

This is my choice.

Thanks, Cory.

From Emily.
If you have any ideas or songs, send them to me in the comments here.