To be read in a headmasterly voice …
A huge thank you to everyone who joined in for the launch of our 500 Words thang.
The quality of writing in your last little assignment was amazingly high and the range of diverse imaginings you guys came up with quite boggled the mind.
If those are any guide, then I can't wait to read this week's homework.
You've set yourself a high benchmark.
Anyone who missed out on that can read all the previous stories here, and post your own from last week's sentence if you want.
Today, however, in my capacity of Official Sentence Setter (I do love the feeling of POWER and … er … pomposity that comes with the position) I shall set the next sentence.
You can think about it over the weekend and post your stories whenever you feel like it and I'll go round and collect them all up and post links later next week (probably Thursday, but there's no telling as my calendar is ruled by chaos).
No hurry.
The rules - for any latecomers are simple:
Just write 500 words (do try to be exact; it makes it a little harder and a little more fun) including and based on the sentence I shall set.
Then post it and I'll link to all of your stories so we can enjoy a good wallow in the fertile weirdness of one another's imaginations.
Easy peasy.
Hokay …
This week's sentence is taken from Paul Auster's "City Of Glass", from his New York Trilogy.
It is:
"Then, suddenly, with great clarity and precision, he saw Bartleby's window and the blank brick wall before him."
As it's a short sentence this time it should be included in your word count.
Anyone who can't count up to five hundred can go stand in the corner (not you, Prudence; though next time I shall be more strict - corporal punishment is still legal on this blog).
Right!
The clock is ticking.
Pick up your pencils.
Use both sides of the paper if necessary.
21 comments:
Tee hee Bossy boots!!!!looking forward to reading ........
Crack that whip, Dive! I am so glad I am only a spectator. This is beginning to sound like it could be dangerous.
Where you a hitting-knuckles-with-a-ruler nun in a previous life? 8-)
I think he must have been, From Cali. Maybe he even still is, at weekends. LOL.
Ok, looking forward to it! Dun dun dur.
No talking in class!
Er … I don't think I've ever been a nun, let alone a sadistic one, but perhaps that's a habit I should get into.
Wish I had more time to edit! : )
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"Then, suddenly, with great clarity and precision, he saw Bartleby's window and the blank brick wall before him."
Stewart recalled Melville’s “Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall-street” and the stubbornness of brick wall, Bartleby’s repeating “I would prefer not to,” the provocation of merely refusing to stop.
He slammed the shutters closed, hitching the flimsy catch. Plunking himself on the lumpy bed, he opened his briefcase, removed the Blackberry and punched at the agenda keys, irritated.
“Stop thinking of the stupid wall. Stop it.”
Yes. Today. Meet Roberts in one hour. Well. That would be enough time to get some bad tea in the lobby, push a stale powdered donut down his throat and scald his uvula.
The streets of Williamson frowned on him. The wall, he thought. He must get away from Bartleby’s damn wall! As soon as another suite opened up, the manager said. Then Stewart could have a new room.
He would wait another day and no more. It had already been a week.
Littlewood Road denied its name, long, puddled sidewalk grinding at the toes of his shiny shoes, hungry gremlins. He threw the beasts the rest of the donut, digestion completed in five seconds, evidenced by evaporating white sugar. The creatures weren’t sated. They gnawed on. By the time Roberts’ high-rise met him with the dull revolving door, Stewart had had enough of walking in drizzle.
“Three,” he said to the other occupant of the elevator.
The usual silence mandated they stare somewhere. The scratched brass doors seemed the obvious choice for both men, and they caught each other’s eye. Stewart, dressed in pin-striped business suit, assessed the dark-skinned man. Dowdy, he thought.
Dowdy? What sort of word was that?
“This is slowest elevator in creation!” said Stewart. “I mean…I mean…brick laying would take a shorter time!”
The other man said nothing, continued to look at the doors and Stewart’s reflection.
When the doors opened on seemingly rusted tracks, Stewart grimaced out, briefcase swung back so hard, had he released, it would have punctured the dark paneled rear of the elevator.
Roberts’ waiting room was as ugly as Stewart’s hotel rooms. Vinyl green seats with rivets circa 1950 pressed springs into the backs of his thighs. No pretty receptionist hanging blond curls over a telephone receiver, no Monet prints on the grey walls, not even a plastic plant. What kind of man could work here?
Surprisingly, Roberts emerged on time. He was neatly attired, a gentlemen of about 60, hair silvered in an orderly manner that relieved Stewart somewhat. Roberts gave Stewart a modern and competent look and a firm handshake with manicured nails.
“Yes, come in,” said Roberts. “Sit.” He gestured to a hard, oak chair, sans arms or adornment. But it looked freshly varnished. The office had been dusted, the trash cans emptied, white curtains recently washed.
“I deplore dirt,” he said.
Stewart knew this was a man he could make a deal with.
“What do you know about mortar?”
Wow!
That was quick, Katherine! We were only emailing about you joining us 45 minutes ago.
Boy, howdy! You write fast!
Great story. Very intriguing and I love the way you worked in Bartleby.
The waiting room is excruciatingly real, as is Stewart's horrible hotel room.
I laughed out loud at your last line. Excellent!
If you post it on one of your blogs and point me to it I shall link to it with all the others when they come in next week.
Thanks again for joining us.
Okey dokey. Bartleby is a distinctly English name, so I'll see what I can do, being a crass American.
About counting the words, typing this out in Microsoft Word makes it easy because the application has a word counting tool built right in.
OH, wait. Bartleby was part of a name of wine coolers back in the 80s. Hmmm.
And here was I thinking Bartleby was a very American name, Robyn. The only two Bartlebys I've ever encounted have been in a US book (City of Glass) and a US movie (Dogma).
Yes, do get the word count right as the headmaster will be checking! Hee hee.
Wow, I am impressed! So much so that I am using capital letters when appropriate. You do know how difficult that is for me, Sugar, don't you? xoxo
(I'm in the middle of reviewing a contract, so I might have to pass on this weeks sentence.)
Well, then maybe it's American. It sounded English to me. Funny.
Savannah: i am shocked and seriously impressed by your capitalising (capitalism?), as you can probably gather by the fact that you've knocked me into lower case. hee hee.
xoxox
Robyn: I have no idea where it came from but it's kind of a cute name.
Thank you so much for the fun, Dive!! And yes, I will revise and post it on my blog. I have so many misplaced modifiers in this piece, I've asked Strunk and White to flog me.
Wow. I am so intimidated. Bartleby sounds very pretentious but I think I can "white trash" it. Oh Professor Dive, do we have to add a title? Also, I went on a little long on the last one because I thought your sentence wasn't included.
Katherine - you are amazing!
Katherine: Excellent! I'll pop over and fetch it when I collect the others. Thank you.
Neetzy: white trash is good. And of course you don't need a title.
Last week's sentence was long, so you could include it or not; some did and some didn't, so no worries there.
And Lulu quite correctly pointed out to me that I had forgotten Barlteby the scriver (of course … yet another American Bartleby) and indeed Melville's Bartleby has already made an appearance in Katherine's story.
No doubt other Bartlebys will crawl out of the woodwork to chastise me.
Hee hee.
Ah Dogma, I'm so going to have to dig that out of the DVD pile.
Matt Damon with attitude and Alanis as a mute nutty God.
And my all time favourite, Alan Rickman.
The weekend just got better.
Assignments due on Thursday huh?
Yup; Thursday.
Hee hee. Alan Rickman's genitalia scene in Dogma is an all time classic.
BTW. I loved Dogma. Heehee to all of the above comments between you and Kate. My favorite Kevin Smith film, however was "Clerks".
Here ya go, Teach! The revised version.
http://luxuriouschoices.blogspot.com/2009/07/dive-muse.html
Thanks, Neetzy! It's the teacher. Good teachers bring out the best in us, eh?
Here's mine. "Preference"
http://lulu-unlimited.blogspot.com/2009/08/preference.html
Hope you like it.
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