i made a new topic for my story
HERE
anyone here write?
Well, hopefully no one from my school reads mnml.nl - as I'm going to be working on this for something I'm handing in, and apparently one of the rules is 'it can be posted on the interweb' or it'll be self-plagiarism if I hand it in. *shrug*. Any who, this is only the first two pages - I'll be expanding it out into a full story
The premise of this is going to be : This person, quits his 'day job' to become a motivational speaker at offices. The stories he tells to motivate the people are just made-up lies about his own success story from 'rags to riches' (In truth, he had a job that paid 200k/yr - he simply got bored and quit and started to make up lies to do this Motivational Speaking tour).
When he walks into a meeting room - he sort of lots people into various archetypes, like 'bob from accounting', or the 'Lisa units' - and gives a brief description about each one.
Where I plan on taking this from this starting point is : Writing short stories about each archetype of person. ie: Write a short story based on 'the Lisa units' - the short stories will sort of contrast the double lives that the people lead. Sort of their 'work persona, and then their real life' - which I think rings pretty true to the real office place. Sort of an examination of human behavior.
Something I am undecided on, is if these spin-off short stories will interconnect at all and tie in with the narrator of the 1st part who’s giving the descriptions, or if they will stand on their own without any/many connections.
While I think it’ll be more interesting to have them tie in with each other, I’m not sure if I’m a good enough writer yet to pull it off well.
But, without further explanation – the first two pages of the story.
*note: odly, I have horrible spelling/grammer despite always getting 80+'s in my english courses, so please exuse any obvious mistakes - I havnt really given this an edit yet.
--
Another day, another lecture, another board room of healthy hair, white teeth, and I’m sure at least one man wearing panties under his suite. I entered the room, and the teeth flashed at me like I was a star being attacked by paparazzi. I set up my laptop, and take a look around the room, and swear everyone of them has taken a lesson of ‘how to smile and not use your eyes’. There was no emotion in any of them. I suppose that is why I am here. To motivate, to increase “emotional IQ”, to pep talk these walking Armanis’ into being something more then drone #1.
But, here’s the catch
I no longer care
Isn’t that weird? A motivational speaker, that lacks motivation. I think its because I’ve seen it all in the business world, and within the first five seconds, can slot these sheep into their pens, label their types, and know that most of them are only here because they were told to, and will not take any of this to heart. But, the pens
- “Bob from Accounting”
You know, the quiet type, is either overly-thin, or has a pot belly. They either eat to much, and don’t move. Or, they don’t eat at all, and again, don’t move. Usually, they have the pot belly, I know very few thin “bobs from accounting”. They are quiet, meek, wear thick glasses, lust after the cute secretary or intern at the desk, open the doors, then beat themselves up after when they realized their “Hello”, came out as a mumbled whisper.
- “Ken, Matt, Todd, Mike, the single-syllable names of Sexpot”
These are the young ones, and not as bad as the “Dicks” which I will get to shortly. They are young, they are buff, and they get laid at least once a week, and by someone new. They tend to spend too much money on their suits, and have more hair product in their collection then the Lisa Units that dash around the office. They are fresh out of college or university, entry level but flash you a thumbs up because they are “on their way to the top”. They bug me, they really, really bug me.
- “Dicks”
Dicks, Harry’s, Toms, they used to be Sexpots, or thought they were Sexpots.
They wear bad suits, slicked hair. Much like Bob from accounting, they lust after the secretary at the desk. But, I’m sure she would appreciate Bobs approach more, as the Dicks hit on them blatantly, ignoring the fact they have a wife and two kids at home. They slick back their hair, flash them a smile and belch out sloppy 1-liners and try to act witty. I like them, I’m not sure why.
- Lisa Units
Lisa Units, these are the last pen I’ll describe, as I think you are getting the point. But, I lust after the Lisa Units, and wish I had an army of them behind me. They are tall, pretty, powerful and look good in a set of heels. Much like the Sexpots, they are fresh out of school, smart, got the looks and know how to use it. They recognize that a nice smile is a Green Light to breezing though the office without the need for social interaction unless they want it. I’d say Lisa Units are the new wave of the future, we need more of them.
I like Lisa Units, wish I had one of my own.
But, enough of that, and there are no Lisa Units in this room, they tend to be motivated enough as is. Its rarely I see a Lisa Unit in this room, if there is ever a female in the room, its usually a Jane,
The story I tell during these sessions, is largely a fabricated lie. I bounce, I yell, I explain about how much of a loser I was (I never was, honor role student, scholarships though high school, made $200k/yr for a long time, then got bored). But no, I fabricate a life of hard times, crap jobs, and “how it got me to where I am today, making $6,000 a day, doing lectures like this. I forget exactly how I got here, I know one day I was bored, emailed an “I quit” to my Boss, which ironically, arrived in my own mail-box (hint: I was the Boss), and just packed up and left.
The company is still running, doing quite well. But, after I quit, I didn’t do any spiritual journey, or any talk to the Guru. I was simply sitting there a day or two after, eating a Hagan daz watching late night TV and figured “Hey, this could be fun to do”
So, I sat down, wrote up a pamphlet, made a few false references, and handed it out around to companies, “Motivational Speaker, motivate and inspire your work force to increase productivity”, I started out low, at $1,000 a lecture, which is what probably got me a break, because I was quite good at it. I may have been in IT before, but I was a good writer, and a persuasive writer, so it worked for me. Did a few rounds, got known by word of mouth, and slowly increased my rates to $6,000 a lecture.
I cant believe how many of them are suckered into it. But, two lectures a month, I travel, $144,000 a year, sure. A bit less then $200,000 I was making before, but I don’t mind. I’m getting paid to lie, it used to make me smirk, knowing that my lies ‘fueled motivation’
But, I no longer care.
The premise of this is going to be : This person, quits his 'day job' to become a motivational speaker at offices. The stories he tells to motivate the people are just made-up lies about his own success story from 'rags to riches' (In truth, he had a job that paid 200k/yr - he simply got bored and quit and started to make up lies to do this Motivational Speaking tour).
When he walks into a meeting room - he sort of lots people into various archetypes, like 'bob from accounting', or the 'Lisa units' - and gives a brief description about each one.
Where I plan on taking this from this starting point is : Writing short stories about each archetype of person. ie: Write a short story based on 'the Lisa units' - the short stories will sort of contrast the double lives that the people lead. Sort of their 'work persona, and then their real life' - which I think rings pretty true to the real office place. Sort of an examination of human behavior.
Something I am undecided on, is if these spin-off short stories will interconnect at all and tie in with the narrator of the 1st part who’s giving the descriptions, or if they will stand on their own without any/many connections.
While I think it’ll be more interesting to have them tie in with each other, I’m not sure if I’m a good enough writer yet to pull it off well.
But, without further explanation – the first two pages of the story.
*note: odly, I have horrible spelling/grammer despite always getting 80+'s in my english courses, so please exuse any obvious mistakes - I havnt really given this an edit yet.
--
Another day, another lecture, another board room of healthy hair, white teeth, and I’m sure at least one man wearing panties under his suite. I entered the room, and the teeth flashed at me like I was a star being attacked by paparazzi. I set up my laptop, and take a look around the room, and swear everyone of them has taken a lesson of ‘how to smile and not use your eyes’. There was no emotion in any of them. I suppose that is why I am here. To motivate, to increase “emotional IQ”, to pep talk these walking Armanis’ into being something more then drone #1.
But, here’s the catch
I no longer care
Isn’t that weird? A motivational speaker, that lacks motivation. I think its because I’ve seen it all in the business world, and within the first five seconds, can slot these sheep into their pens, label their types, and know that most of them are only here because they were told to, and will not take any of this to heart. But, the pens
- “Bob from Accounting”
You know, the quiet type, is either overly-thin, or has a pot belly. They either eat to much, and don’t move. Or, they don’t eat at all, and again, don’t move. Usually, they have the pot belly, I know very few thin “bobs from accounting”. They are quiet, meek, wear thick glasses, lust after the cute secretary or intern at the desk, open the doors, then beat themselves up after when they realized their “Hello”, came out as a mumbled whisper.
- “Ken, Matt, Todd, Mike, the single-syllable names of Sexpot”
These are the young ones, and not as bad as the “Dicks” which I will get to shortly. They are young, they are buff, and they get laid at least once a week, and by someone new. They tend to spend too much money on their suits, and have more hair product in their collection then the Lisa Units that dash around the office. They are fresh out of college or university, entry level but flash you a thumbs up because they are “on their way to the top”. They bug me, they really, really bug me.
- “Dicks”
Dicks, Harry’s, Toms, they used to be Sexpots, or thought they were Sexpots.
They wear bad suits, slicked hair. Much like Bob from accounting, they lust after the secretary at the desk. But, I’m sure she would appreciate Bobs approach more, as the Dicks hit on them blatantly, ignoring the fact they have a wife and two kids at home. They slick back their hair, flash them a smile and belch out sloppy 1-liners and try to act witty. I like them, I’m not sure why.
- Lisa Units
Lisa Units, these are the last pen I’ll describe, as I think you are getting the point. But, I lust after the Lisa Units, and wish I had an army of them behind me. They are tall, pretty, powerful and look good in a set of heels. Much like the Sexpots, they are fresh out of school, smart, got the looks and know how to use it. They recognize that a nice smile is a Green Light to breezing though the office without the need for social interaction unless they want it. I’d say Lisa Units are the new wave of the future, we need more of them.
I like Lisa Units, wish I had one of my own.
But, enough of that, and there are no Lisa Units in this room, they tend to be motivated enough as is. Its rarely I see a Lisa Unit in this room, if there is ever a female in the room, its usually a Jane,
The story I tell during these sessions, is largely a fabricated lie. I bounce, I yell, I explain about how much of a loser I was (I never was, honor role student, scholarships though high school, made $200k/yr for a long time, then got bored). But no, I fabricate a life of hard times, crap jobs, and “how it got me to where I am today, making $6,000 a day, doing lectures like this. I forget exactly how I got here, I know one day I was bored, emailed an “I quit” to my Boss, which ironically, arrived in my own mail-box (hint: I was the Boss), and just packed up and left.
The company is still running, doing quite well. But, after I quit, I didn’t do any spiritual journey, or any talk to the Guru. I was simply sitting there a day or two after, eating a Hagan daz watching late night TV and figured “Hey, this could be fun to do”
So, I sat down, wrote up a pamphlet, made a few false references, and handed it out around to companies, “Motivational Speaker, motivate and inspire your work force to increase productivity”, I started out low, at $1,000 a lecture, which is what probably got me a break, because I was quite good at it. I may have been in IT before, but I was a good writer, and a persuasive writer, so it worked for me. Did a few rounds, got known by word of mouth, and slowly increased my rates to $6,000 a lecture.
I cant believe how many of them are suckered into it. But, two lectures a month, I travel, $144,000 a year, sure. A bit less then $200,000 I was making before, but I don’t mind. I’m getting paid to lie, it used to make me smirk, knowing that my lies ‘fueled motivation’
But, I no longer care.
and, - here are some poems I wrote. Normally, I dont write poetry, but the 1st half of my current creative writing course was focused on poetry. Used the code tag where needed just to preserve formatting.
Missing Winter
----------------
My guard set, and my vulnerabilities rose. Laying in bed next to you, feeling alone. The sorrows of years past came to surface. Letting something out: to let something in. The taste of spring on a winters breeze, the scent of coffee sweeping into the rolled down car window. Sitting in the coffee shop – the wide-eyed grandson sitting across from a proud grandfather. One dunked their donut into hot chocolate, the other into black, no, sweetened? No .. Coffee. Into their coffee. The car ride home, the long way around, the coffee shop, what was its name? With the white stucco and the details that don’t matter… it faded into the distance. My hand would catch at the air with the window rolled down. The same hand that would catch the Frisbee, it was made from a lid, from a coffee jar or margarine container. I’d catch it, before it glided over the couch. The smell of tobacco puffed from a pipe, the smell of Nivea on fresh shaven skin. The clock ticks in the background, the clock ticks. Laying in bed, stringing popcorn on Christmas decorations, the phone rings, the news .. the heart sinks – the memory fades. I tell you this, you crack a joke. I let something out, to let something in – I wasn’t expecting hurt.
Morning Coffee
-------------------
Illusion
---------
Problematic Introduction (note: these poems are meant to be displayed side by side, but cant really do that on this forum)
------------------
HeH … Hel…. Ello
Lyyigh Maie name is EhEh….
EVAN
Yes – that took me a moment
No, I dideh n’t need to think ababababout
I didn’t need to
I didn’t need to think ahbo
I didn’t need to think AHHHBBB
THINK ABOUT IT
It was on the tip of my tongue
Trapped in my hehea.he (…AAAAAAHHHHHH)
Eh vetually, more trapped in my throat
Ever stop to think I may have a stuttt ttt ttt ter?
Lovely way to make an introduction
By making me feel ashash…. Embaa a ..
To feel like a fool
Had to think about that for a moment didn’t you?
Liii… Li…
I haven’t heard that before
Its frustrating you see
To have
..
..
to be called upon and have my heart drop
my mind racing faster than my mmmmm
my mind racing faster than meh
my mind race fass t t t t t t t
my palms sweat
my stomach turn
What will I be asked?
The answer, the words
whatineedtosay mmmmbled
I rearra.. res… re… I rea…ss
I STOP
Trying
Anxiety builds - I say a quarter of what
A quarter of what I had on my mi
A quarter ofwh atI had onmy muh
Whats in my head
Hello, my name is Evan
The quiet one in the corner
Find me relaxed
Show some patience
Ask me a question
And I’ll have a lot to say
--- (and this next part is meant to be displayed next to the above)
Hello, my name is Evan
Yes – that took me a moment
No, I didn’t need to think about it
It was on the tip of my tongue
Actually, more trapped in my throat
A tension in the chest
A knot in the gut
Ever stop to think I may have a stutter?
Lovely way to make an introduction
By making me feel a fool
Had to think about that for a moment didn’t you?
Like I haven’t heard that before
Its frustrating you see
To have
a stammer,
a stutter,
a speech impediment
to be called upon and have my heart drop
my mind race
my palms sweat
my stomach turn
What will I be asked?
I know the answer, I know the words,
I know what I need to say
But locks and blocks keep it trapped within
The words stumble out
Clumsily tripping out of my mouth
Words slurred,
sentences mumbled
I stop
I restart
I rearrange
Trying to find an order that will flow
Sideways glances and impatient sighs
Anxiety builds, the situation worsens
I say a quarter of what I had on my mind
Dwelling away at what was left unsaid
Hello, my name is Evan
The quiet one in the corner
Find me relaxed
Show some patience
Ask me a question
And I’ll have a lot to say
------------
And then, this next little bit of writing. A year or two ago I had a /really/ really sloppy roommate. She was a pig, would leave the worst messes all over. I tried /everything/ to get her to clean up. From simply asking her to tidy up after herself, to leaving passive aggressive notes next to the mess in question. ie: she left her socks on the couch, so I left a note next to the dirty sock - "Could you please return your sock to your bedroom - my socks are becomming jealous of the free reign your socks have over the couch - and its simply unfair".
Eventually - she just didnt get the clue, so I wrote her this letter. Upon her reading it, I actually heard her cry -- I did not mind.
Simple Steps to a happier, healthier, cleaner kitchen
1: Milk bags, once finished, belong in the garbage. While I am sure they enjoy their new found freedom floating freely along the counter, we are not in the business of milk-bag liberation. Their new home, once Freed from the confines of the little blue jug, is that of the nice green garbage bags.
2: When one uses a pot, and/or pan, and or knife, and or plate, one wash's it directly after. While I am sure the AGO can appreciate the 'art' of a pile of pots and pans, I sure the hell don't. If one finds themselves to busy to wash their dishes once used, please keep them to your room. If you do not leave them in your room, and do not wash them, you will find them on your bed, curtsey of Evan Express.
3: When using the stove, it is not uncommon to be cooking things which may splatter, as lets say - pasta sauce, this red-mass of goodness adds flavor to your dishes, and color to our stove top. While one could argue that the splatter of the red-goodness is indicative of the chaos in modern day society, and we could bring in art history majors to debate the political implications of the abstract mess on the stove, I really have no desire and
Prefer the 'found-object postmodern minimalism' of a white stove top. Please take the two seconds it requires to dampen a sponge, and wipe off the stove.
4: The cutting board, is not a place to grow new life forms, or do research for new cures to disease. While I am sure, if left long enough, a green pepper could produce the answer to AIDs or cure the common cold, there are hundreds of thousands of people out there who make a living doing this for us. Lets’ not put them out of a job, once you are done using the cutting board, please deposited the remains into the sink and / or the garbage can.
These are four simple steps, to a happier, healthier and cleaner kitchen, and they all have one common theme
- It all takes two seconds to do.
Thank you for your cooperation
Evan, the happy home maker.
Missing Winter
----------------
My guard set, and my vulnerabilities rose. Laying in bed next to you, feeling alone. The sorrows of years past came to surface. Letting something out: to let something in. The taste of spring on a winters breeze, the scent of coffee sweeping into the rolled down car window. Sitting in the coffee shop – the wide-eyed grandson sitting across from a proud grandfather. One dunked their donut into hot chocolate, the other into black, no, sweetened? No .. Coffee. Into their coffee. The car ride home, the long way around, the coffee shop, what was its name? With the white stucco and the details that don’t matter… it faded into the distance. My hand would catch at the air with the window rolled down. The same hand that would catch the Frisbee, it was made from a lid, from a coffee jar or margarine container. I’d catch it, before it glided over the couch. The smell of tobacco puffed from a pipe, the smell of Nivea on fresh shaven skin. The clock ticks in the background, the clock ticks. Laying in bed, stringing popcorn on Christmas decorations, the phone rings, the news .. the heart sinks – the memory fades. I tell you this, you crack a joke. I let something out, to let something in – I wasn’t expecting hurt.
Morning Coffee
-------------------
Code: Select all
I saw god in the bottom of my coffee cup
It said - come here and follow me
I took one final sip
Satisfied with the caffeine
My brain tingling
Its chemical structure altering mine
I asked – what is it you wanted?
It showed me the others
Each on their own path
I followed my own
Looking at the others
Some of their paths were difficult
Some of their paths were easy
Others strode forward with confidence
Others crept forward with caution
I arrived at the end of this path
To my final destination
I was part of who was already there
Others arrived
- and they were me also
I looked towards the god - What is this?
It said – don’t you see?
The paths are different
The destination is the same
Then there I was
Staring at my coffee cup
Looking at my reflection
Illusion
---------
Code: Select all
I grabbed you by the gut
You recoil and twist
I yell in your face
- you want pretty pictures?
You want flowing walls?
You want a good laugh?
I give you what you need
Not what you want
I’ve shown you the universe
The beauty of creation
The thread that connects us all
I’ve given you a glimpse of heaven
And yet – you’re back all ready?
I can thrust you into hell
I don’t care what you want
- I know what you need
To strip away the illusion
Show you your faults
Ye’ who has no sin
Cast the first stone
No stone shall you cast
You all have your faults
Your errors
You are all freaks
Alone
Confused
Lost
You are all on the same boat
No fee rides
No getting off
You are in for a ride
No easy journey
I’ll warp your mind
You may laugh, you may giggle
Your world will melt
Your mind will warp
I have something to tell you
Are you ready?
You are all one
You are all the same
Don’t pick at faults
Don’t place yourself up high
------------------
HeH … Hel…. Ello
Lyyigh Maie name is EhEh….
EVAN
Yes – that took me a moment
No, I dideh n’t need to think ababababout
I didn’t need to
I didn’t need to think ahbo
I didn’t need to think AHHHBBB
THINK ABOUT IT
It was on the tip of my tongue
Trapped in my hehea.he (…AAAAAAHHHHHH)
Eh vetually, more trapped in my throat
Ever stop to think I may have a stuttt ttt ttt ter?
Lovely way to make an introduction
By making me feel ashash…. Embaa a ..
To feel like a fool
Had to think about that for a moment didn’t you?
Liii… Li…
I haven’t heard that before
Its frustrating you see
To have
..
..
to be called upon and have my heart drop
my mind racing faster than my mmmmm
my mind racing faster than meh
my mind race fass t t t t t t t
my palms sweat
my stomach turn
What will I be asked?
The answer, the words
whatineedtosay mmmmbled
I rearra.. res… re… I rea…ss
I STOP
Trying
Anxiety builds - I say a quarter of what
A quarter of what I had on my mi
A quarter ofwh atI had onmy muh
Whats in my head
Hello, my name is Evan
The quiet one in the corner
Find me relaxed
Show some patience
Ask me a question
And I’ll have a lot to say
--- (and this next part is meant to be displayed next to the above)
Hello, my name is Evan
Yes – that took me a moment
No, I didn’t need to think about it
It was on the tip of my tongue
Actually, more trapped in my throat
A tension in the chest
A knot in the gut
Ever stop to think I may have a stutter?
Lovely way to make an introduction
By making me feel a fool
Had to think about that for a moment didn’t you?
Like I haven’t heard that before
Its frustrating you see
To have
a stammer,
a stutter,
a speech impediment
to be called upon and have my heart drop
my mind race
my palms sweat
my stomach turn
What will I be asked?
I know the answer, I know the words,
I know what I need to say
But locks and blocks keep it trapped within
The words stumble out
Clumsily tripping out of my mouth
Words slurred,
sentences mumbled
I stop
I restart
I rearrange
Trying to find an order that will flow
Sideways glances and impatient sighs
Anxiety builds, the situation worsens
I say a quarter of what I had on my mind
Dwelling away at what was left unsaid
Hello, my name is Evan
The quiet one in the corner
Find me relaxed
Show some patience
Ask me a question
And I’ll have a lot to say
------------
And then, this next little bit of writing. A year or two ago I had a /really/ really sloppy roommate. She was a pig, would leave the worst messes all over. I tried /everything/ to get her to clean up. From simply asking her to tidy up after herself, to leaving passive aggressive notes next to the mess in question. ie: she left her socks on the couch, so I left a note next to the dirty sock - "Could you please return your sock to your bedroom - my socks are becomming jealous of the free reign your socks have over the couch - and its simply unfair".
Eventually - she just didnt get the clue, so I wrote her this letter. Upon her reading it, I actually heard her cry -- I did not mind.
Simple Steps to a happier, healthier, cleaner kitchen
1: Milk bags, once finished, belong in the garbage. While I am sure they enjoy their new found freedom floating freely along the counter, we are not in the business of milk-bag liberation. Their new home, once Freed from the confines of the little blue jug, is that of the nice green garbage bags.
2: When one uses a pot, and/or pan, and or knife, and or plate, one wash's it directly after. While I am sure the AGO can appreciate the 'art' of a pile of pots and pans, I sure the hell don't. If one finds themselves to busy to wash their dishes once used, please keep them to your room. If you do not leave them in your room, and do not wash them, you will find them on your bed, curtsey of Evan Express.
3: When using the stove, it is not uncommon to be cooking things which may splatter, as lets say - pasta sauce, this red-mass of goodness adds flavor to your dishes, and color to our stove top. While one could argue that the splatter of the red-goodness is indicative of the chaos in modern day society, and we could bring in art history majors to debate the political implications of the abstract mess on the stove, I really have no desire and
Prefer the 'found-object postmodern minimalism' of a white stove top. Please take the two seconds it requires to dampen a sponge, and wipe off the stove.
4: The cutting board, is not a place to grow new life forms, or do research for new cures to disease. While I am sure, if left long enough, a green pepper could produce the answer to AIDs or cure the common cold, there are hundreds of thousands of people out there who make a living doing this for us. Lets’ not put them out of a job, once you are done using the cutting board, please deposited the remains into the sink and / or the garbage can.
These are four simple steps, to a happier, healthier and cleaner kitchen, and they all have one common theme
- It all takes two seconds to do.
Thank you for your cooperation
Evan, the happy home maker.
