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My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life" Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor- Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor -Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor
Showing posts with label #lit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #lit. Show all posts

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors 07/27/14

        Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 07/27/14




As a follower of the hero's journey, I always start my novels in the normal world before inviting the freak on board. Here is the beginning of my unpublished manuscript BEING BENITO CARLEFFA, before they beat Ben, killed his mom, or even served him "Gestapo" soup. Without the drama, would you keep reading after these first eight sentences? Why or why not? If not, what would you suggest? Please be honest. I can take it.


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      The last bell ended my teacher’s talk on the robber barons, famous dead guys who ripped dudes off to get rich, so I stuffed Our Great Nation into my backpack. Those who didn’t want to get squashed hung under a poster of the presidents, while everyone else bolted for the door. Someone had marked up Washington with horns, earrings, and a Hitler mustache; more proof that I didn’t fit in with freshmen. 

      “You’re quiet,” Sara said. 

      I pointed at the crappy artwork. “Did you see that?” 

      “That’s hysterical!” She laughed as if something was actually funny and then wrapped her fingers around my arm. 


Saturday, July 19, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop 7/20/14

Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 07/20/14



Since I've shown the dark side of my young adult manuscript, 
BEING BENITO CARLEFFA, this week I'll lighten things up with 
a humorous dinner time snippet between Ben and his father.

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After blowing on the red soup, I cautiously sipped it off the spoon. It's cold? Next I knew, I gagged, coughed, and thumped my chest. All this money, and these people couldn’t even heat the food.

     “You don't like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked. 

      I dropped my spoon on the table. Why would he mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sure, everyone likes murderers. Sick. This guy’s really sick.


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