Contest Winner

JSK was the winner of our contest, so on Monday I presented her with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. I've got the biggest crush on her.



Coming soon: Halloween party pictures, a tirade against plastic bottles, and the Election Breakfast.

Sing, Dear Gemini

Editor's note:

The essay that was originally posted here has been removed. It will be published in the Spring 2010 online edition of Black and White Journal for the Arts. Thank you.

Revisions, Round 2

I'm sitting down with the essay/post originally titled "Stars, Doubts, Girls" again today. I took a few days off from looking at it or thinking about it because that always seems to help. For one, it lets me come at it with fresh eyes that have forgotten most of what's there, so I can evaluate it as a stranger would. For two, it gives my mind time to work things out subconsciously, and I always have more ideas this way. Normally I'd take even more time off, but since it's such a short piece and we have such a short history together, it was easy to forget (is this some sort of sad parallel for SG herself?)

Anyway, before I get too far into it and before I post the results here, I want to say a few things about how I'm revising, about how I am deciding what to do. It seems to me that this essay has three moving parts that need attention: narrative, meditation, and what-its-really-about.

The narrative, of course, is the story itself, and the standard for revision there is honesty and interestingness. I want it to be snappy, to draw the reader on to the next sentence and the next, and to sound like me. And since I've said it is a true story, I want it to be accurate. That's why I changed the names of those present in the first sentence when I found out exactly who was there—it's a small thing, of course, but it makes for a good habit. More important is how I portray my thoughts and emotions from years ago, for I can't remember exactly what I said to myself or felt on a particular day and it's easy to be less than honest for the sake of the story. Dave actually questioned some of the things I'd written in the first draft, whether I had actually thought through D names on the way to SG's house that day. I told him I didn't know exactly, but that I definitely had done it throughout the week whenever it crossed my mind and that the emotion I felt then—that combined dread and excitement—was very real. Actually, at first I had been tempted to write that I stormed over to her house the minute I thought of the initials, since that seemed to fit the tone and import of the story, but since I know very surely that that isn't true I changed it to read I asked on our very next date, which is true.

Anyway, narrative is the easiest thing to revise. It's a matter of pacing and spacing and trimming sentences, usually, like we saw in the first round of revision. Keeping a blog has been a great aid to my storytelling skill because it gives me the opportunity to present stories every day and try to give them maximum effect without worrying too too much, cause hey: it's just a blog.

The meditation is where the narrative slips away and I get to contemplate aloud on the meaning of things. Sometimes it is asking questions without answers and sometimes answers are proposed. In this particular piece there is almost no meditation going on. It's really only in the last paragraph. Originally I gave this a good four sentences or so and commented on love broadly, but in the first revision it was cut to only one or two sentences right at the end. The trick in most essays is to do the exact right amount of meditating, to lead the reader far enough to almost read your mind but not so far as to disallow them to draw their own conclusions. It's rarely something you can plan to do right; there's no formula for it. It's usually just a matter of tweaking and trying until it feels right.

The third thing, the what-its-really-about, is the hardest to define but probably the most important. It's the bottom line, the real story. When an essay doesn't work, it's usually because I haven't figured out what it's really about and thus the narrative and the meditation are at odds. It's like I'm saying, "2 + 2 = Robinson Crusoe"; I fail to connect, to maintain unity. This aspect of an essay not only dictates what the meditation can be about; it dictates how the narrative should be presented, what elements should be emphasized, what should be dropped entirely. Especially in a very short piece like this, it's essential that every word be accounted for.

So that's it: that's what is going through my mind as I reread and revise. Generally. At this time. My concept of craft and genre and style changes as time goes on.

Let the Voting Begin!

Friends,

The four chosen contest entries have been posted below. Please read them and, in the comments, vote for the one you think is best. At the end of the week we will crown one the winner and I will begin crushing him or her—I mean, crushing on him or her. My mistake.

Why The Reverse Pretend Crush Is Not A Viable Life Strategy:

A Warning
by JSK

I’m not going to tell you about the many, all too obvious, reasons that the Reverse Pretend Crush (RPC) is not a good idea. I won’t waste your time pontificating about exactly how Reverse Pretend Crush selection might work (If you are willing to entertain that Person X has an RPC on you, what does that mean? Why Person X and not Person C? And, most of all, where my little narcissistic poet-of-a-brain goes, why not me?) It’s hardly even worth mentioning that the RPC seems like a way to protect yourself from the slings and arrows of outrageous real-crushdom. Like you’re caught forever in a Family Circus cartoon where Not Me is running around breaking things so Billy doesn’t have to take responsibility.

“David, who had his heart broken again?”

“Not me.”

(Not Me slouches in the corner of the frame, crying little ghostly tears and eating a stack of little ghostly Skor bars.)

It’s just pretend. But you see, from this word we can make rend, meaning to tear apart but we also can find tend, which is not only to care for, but also to give attention to. In pretending, Self-Protecting David Grover is able to simultaneously give attention to another yet also remove himself away from the commitment and possible rejection¹ that the RC or RRC (Real Crush or Reverse Real Crush) might entail.

Additionally, it is not worth my time or effort to discuss how unfair this using-another-as-a-wacky-self-motivational-tool set-up is to the RPC. What if one begins to develop an RC on Irresistible David Grover but later come to find out all those J.Crew catalog-worthy outfits were not really to impress her, but were merely to pretend impress her. Tears, lots and lots of tears. And that’s why we’re not going to talk about that, there’s no crying in RPC-land.

Instead, what we need to focus on is the possibility of the RPC being infected during the up-coming zombie epidemic. Once zombified, the RPC will think back to Luscious-Locks David Grover and start to get very hungry. And let’s not forget all the witty things the RPC will remember Banter-King David Grover having said. The RPC will not care if it was only for pretendsies. The only thing the RPC will think of is David Grover’s brain and her mouth will begin to salivate. Now, all I’m saying, is that this is an issue that needs to be considered. And you can’t say you haven’t been warned. If the Way of the Reverse Pretend Crush is continued, I, for one, will not offer my assistance should said zombie epidemic come to pass, as you have brought this on yourself. If you insist on having RPCs, you’re on your own, Tasty-Cerebellum David Grover.


¹ But seriously, who could reject Sweater-Shoe-Coordinated David Grover?

Why the Reverse Pretend Crush Is Not a Viable Life Strategy:

The True Danger
by La Cabra

There are a few reasons that the reverse pretend crush is not a viable life option—such as appearing arrogant rather than gallant or being so caught up in being the reverse-crush object's dream that you miss a true love opportunity. These, however, pale in comparison to the most dangerous reason to eschew the reverse-pretend crush: It becoming REAL.

Should the pretend-crusher pick up on the covert attention, the pretend may become real for the crusher. Then, not only do you have the inconveniences and discomforts of being actually crushed on, you run the distinct though irrational risk of thinking that perhaps you crushed on them first. Then, all confused, you feel obligated to allow the advances of the crusher until, never having had feelings for the crusher in the first place, you are forced to dump the crusher in the middle of your workplace after listening to him (or her, of course) sing a capella ALL the verses of "C'est Moi" from "Camelot" in front of your co-workers! (Trust me on this one.)

Pretend Crushed

by Mystery Girl

Living for the imagined opinions of others, let alone complete strangers, isn't living. It's turning fool and spy. I just wrote a paper on how the Fool in King Lear employs all the tactics of nonfiction authors. To be a fool or a spy is to be intelligent, witty, and always (always!) alone. As mythic rocker Jim Morrison wrote:

That's what real love amounts to—letting a person be what he really is. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. To keep their love, you keep pretending—performing. You get to love your pretence. It's true; we're locked in an image, an act.

Katherine Hepburn took this self-sacrifice to another level when she said, "Acting is a nice childish profession—pretending you're someone else and, at the same time, selling yourself."

It's one thing to act on a stage, but in life, to sell this falseness in reality? The theory undermines self entirely. To pretend one is lovable is to admit one is not, maybe never can be. Pretend and Reverse Pretend Crushes are the ultimate insult. In a preemptive strike, the theorist rejects himself above and beyond the capacity of the outside world. He breaks something whole in order to avoid the chance of it falling apart unexpectedly. It is a fear-based thought process meant to procrastinate genuine human interaction. As we learn from "the immortal words of The Doors, 'The time to hesitate is through'" (Lucas, Empire Records). Real love exists beyond reason. It isn't subject to cosmological compatibility or moments in dark music halls. Real love is downtime, the "I'm so not attracted to you right now, but, man alive, I love you" time. Otherwise it is only as real as stage production, as infatuation, as Romeo and Juliet—a gross misrepresentation of the best stuff.