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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Creative Writing Gone Horribly Wrong

Do you sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with an idea that you think you should write down? This is one that I probably should have forgotten and gone back to sleep.

For whatever the reason, people love a good serial killer story. I hate movies and books about serial killers but what the hell do I know? I’m going to have to get with it some day, I’m going to have to get off my ass and write a serial killer story. That’s where the money is, that’s the ticket out of this dump, that’s the way to fame and fortune. I mean, how hard could it be? They all seem to be about the same to me. You pit the cop against the brilliant but evil serial killer in an ever-escalating battle of wits and wills. Write something like that and it’s sure to be a bestseller.

But I don’t want to write a serial killer novel. I want to write uplifting stories about the heroic nature of the human spirit. I want to write a story about a man with one leg shorter than the other, or maybe he has one leg longer than the other, it’s difficult for doctors to tell. I personally feel that it doesn’t matter either way and that the doctors have spent too much time and money trying to determine if one leg is shorter or the other is longer. Their curiosity has more to do with who will win the office pool at the clinic on this matter than furthering science. Let’s just say that the man in my story has legs of two different lengths, with the right leg being considerably shorter than the left. I’m guessing that the right leg is at least eight inches shorter than the left, or the left leg is eight inches longer than the right leg, but I think that it would be just plain rude to go and measure it. Maybe I can do it while he’s sleeping.

In addition to his irregular legs, one of his arms is shorter than the other. Even an untrained lay person can say this with authority because just look at it! His left arm doesn’t even reach his belt. If he needs to retrieve his car keys from his left pants pocket he has to bend enough to make any yoga instructor envious. Now that I am taking a really good look at this guy it’s pretty obvious that his right arm is a lot longer than it should be but I think that he has enough troubles already to break this bit of news to him.

In addition to these considerable physical deformities he also suffers from seizures which throw his entire body into rather violent spasms. His convulsions are so powerful that they actually can pull his pants down to expose his underwear and turn his hat sideways or completely around on his head.

He is destined for a life of loneliness and poverty because who would hire such a misfit? And then one day Hip-hop hits the scene and he gets a well-paying job in Britney Spears' dance troop.

What do you think of my story so far? What? OK, I’ll turn him into a vile monster who preys on young women, but I’m keeping the other stuff.

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