Yadda, Yadda, Yaddo

Woman Wanting More

 

I arrived at Yaddo, the prestigious artists’ retreat, in the summer of 1941. With America’s “day that will live in infamy” several months away, my own day of infamy began the second morning of my residency. That was when I saw her frolicking about the grounds, her gorgeously gawky six-foot body clothed in dungarees and a man’s white shirt, her brown pageboy hair swaying about as she clumsily tackled Katherine Anne Porter to the dewy grass. So this was Lula Carson McCullers, the delectable wunderkind whose first novel, published when she was twenty-three, had been a critical and financial success. I decided I must have her and she must have me.

I introduced myself to her later that night as we sat down to dinner at the mansion. My sweet Lula scampered to a vacant seat beside Katherine while I gently shoved Newt Arvin to the floor to procure the chair next to my beloved.

I tried to engage the lovely Lula in some small talk, but she was so shy and demure she could not bring herself to even look at me for fear of falling deeply and hopelessly in love. She sat staring at Katherine, hiding from me the love and admiration in her gaze. Oh, but I see, Carson, my sweet Lula C. I see.

Ultimately my precious Lula turned her soft, doe-eyed glare to me after Katherine slapped Lula’s face around in my direction. The contempt in Lula’s eyes only masked the awe and arousal she felt for me. Finally, my lover spoke. “What are you doing here?”

At last we began a sensual dialogue; we were two literary lovers discussing the craft with an undercurrent of sexual tension.

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Choking the Muse and Her Skanky Girlfriend

 

Choking the Muse

Let’s face it: writing is hard work. It’s difficult even when you know what you want to write about and it’s downright excruciating when you have no inspiration at all. I mean, the previous two sentences took me eight hours to write and it’s crap. So I know what it feels like when your muse abandons you, running off sans warning with the unctuous, greasy-haired, cowboy hat-wearing, Kid Rock look-alike neighbor after leaving behind a pair of her black, crotchless (taunting) panties lying on the bed you shared with the whore for three years, absconding because she believed the fucking lies spewed by her skanky bitch girlfriend. Yes, I completely understand. So to help my fellow inspiration-challenged, muse-abandoned quill drivers, I offer the gift of writing prompts comprised of slightly provocative situations and dialogue to give you a creative kick in the ass. The situations and dialogue may be familiar to some writers; I know I’ve experienced most of these situations myself. Like me, you may have not realized that such earthy, everyday occurrences could be worthy of artful prose.

Interspersed throughout the list are special Try This writing prompts. Several Try This prompts require some physical activity and are designed to function much like Emerson’s and Thoreau’s transcendental walks, fomenting profundity and sapience through bodily exertion.

Now it is time to choose a prompt and begin writing in order to lure that muse back. Once the muse is within reach, snatch her cheating little neck with both hands, give her a bit of a throttle, and don’t let go until you’ve created your literary masterpiece. Afterwards, go ahead and fuck up that lying skank bitch who started this shit.

Writing Prompts

—Every now and then, you poke your head out of the warm, moist cavity to see what’s up.

—Though you’re extremely proud of your new invention, you did not anticipate the severe bleeding caused by its proper use.

—”Time to hide,” Gloria said, as she wrapped the banjo strings around the charred remains.

Try This: Drive into oncoming traffic. Watch the reactions and facial expressions of the other drivers. Write for at least twenty minutes about the experience with a special emphasis on describing in exact detail accidents caused.

—While pitching a movie idea to a well-known producer, he opens his desk drawer, pulls out a dark object, and flings it at you. That’s the last thing you remember.

—You find a group of gay elves living in your favorite hat.

—After he explained the logic behind his vivisection device, we realized the lead aeronautical engineer had taken the project in a whole new direction.

—Leonard told the flight attendant about the leaking, sticky hat boxes in the overhead compartment.

Try This: Childhood offers an abundance of delightful writing ideas. Write about some of your most cherished memories such as the time you mistakenly took your mom’s tee-ball-bat-sized ebony dildo and Ben Wa balls to school for show and tell. Or write about a favorite holiday memory like the year the yuletide log popped and sent a glowing ember onto the back of the cat thus setting it on fire and causing the panicked pussy to run caterwauling under the dried Christmas tree (which in turn set the tree on fire that eventually consumed your uninsured house and left you and your family living in an abandoned school bus for three years). Twenty minutes. Begin.

—Because of short-term memory loss, you have trouble recalling what you just wrote because of short-term memory loss.

—Just when you think the game is over, along comes the screeching, red thing.

—”Hey y’all, let’s just throw rocks at it until it goes away.”

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