I pally on the notion of not knowing to let others tell me what I don't.
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I pally on the notion of not knowing to let others tell me what I don't.
Non capisco
Hi Delta40 and how London? great I hope.:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Delta40
what is capisco?
Lol It means I don't understand. I'm in Prague atm and will return to London in a few days. Want to have coffee?
Someone challenged me the other day to try writing from what I don't know,an experience completely opposite of mine. I gave it a try, and actually had a lot of fun with it. The biggest challenge is to go beyond just stereotypes of how it's perceived, and actually partly become that experience. However, at this point you in some ways are writing from you now do know, so I don't know if writing about what your ignorant on is possible.
Hey why not. When are you in London?Quote:
Originally Posted by Delta40
I think what is possible is to just write without trying too much. Understanding plays a part and is the start the rest just fall into place.Quote:
Originally Posted by Shaman_Raman
I sometime do not understand what I write and so I just let it. I can't visualise things I am afraid. Lots of reader say they do. I get headaches if I try and so i just write.
I can't read dense long texts either and so I stick to short like poetry o very snappy stories. I write them without trying to figure out why the meanings.
By the way do you have what you wrote?
Besides the fact that pally is not a verb......when you write about something you have no concept of, as Shaman mentioned, you begin to rely on stereotypes or generalized facts from Wikipedia or such sources.
I am not one who believes that you can only write about experiences you have personally had, but if you are going to venture into unknown territory, copious amounts of research is needed (whether first or second hand) before you have anything worth reading.
Cacian, I'd love to share it but I'm going to revise it before posting. For the sake of not being perceived as racist or prejudice, I'd like to revise some stereotypes that I can admit unfortunately seeped in.
Well the whole idea of writing is to have fun.Quote:
Originally Posted by Charles Darnay
To write is to make things up mix them up a bit to give the concepts of a new lease of life.
One does not have to copy by the book what things are made for. We already have the knowledge. Why read about it too?
It is just something I thought of since everything we do is down to what we know. Could not one read something completely different new for a change?
I personally write out of cliches because I tend to bore from repeating what is already been said talked written about heard somewhere else.
I call it gossip.
I suppose that explains why I loath instructions at the back of any packaging it takes the fun out of trials.
I personally would not worry about it. I would just put a warning but if that is what you wish. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Shaman_Raman
Trust me, how it is right now I'll seem cruel and rude. I took opposite experience as far as I could, meaning physical features, gender, habits, occupation, and intelligence. It's like the dark and twisted version of Forrest Gump, only with harsher drugs.Quote:
Originally Posted by cacian
LOL it sounds good to me.Quote:
Originally Posted by Shaman_Raman
Or why not post version to show the changes.
Whichever you feel is right Shaman. :)
The 23rd to 25thQuote:
Originally Posted by cacian
Well. Be careful. Not anything can be tried without tragedy. But you have shown enough cleverness of the Allegro Ma Non Troppo kind. LOLQuote:
Originally Posted by cacian
Hey Delta40. Let's keep updated.:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Delta40
cafolini Allegro Ma Noon Troppo. That sounds a cross spanish english french. I would read it me allegro Troppo noon. Sorry me no understand it.Quote:
Originally Posted by cafolini
Allegro Non Troppo means Happy But Not Too Much. It is a film; a parody on Disney's Fantasia. But beyond that it is the story of an innovator; an inventor.
He quits the city and goes to the country side, and builds a geodesic dome. Soon people begin to arrive and start building domes. A town is born and the inventor is enervated by the copycats. So, he wants to get rid of them. He begins jogging everyday and the people begin to follow him to see what they can learn from his art. Eventually, he discovers a deep canyon, with a tree growing horizontally about a yard from the edge, and he begins to train people in that direction, running ever faster.
When they are trained, he plans to jump and hang from the tree and watch them fall one by one into the canyon. As the people follow, the music is a very happy allegro.
When he decides to execute his plan, he jumps and hangs from the tree, and waits for the fall. But nothing happens. So, he raises himself to the surface, and what does he see? The people are standing looking in the opposite direction, bent forward. The women had lifted their skirts at the back and showed him their arces. Hence, the following him was very allegro. But at the end not too much.
The film was pushed out of art cinemas all over the world by some big-shot. The video's still around: Allegro Non Troppo.
And what a story. You always deliver quality tales I must admit.Quote:
Originally Posted by cafolini
The only question i have is why did the women lift their skirts at the first place?
Because they had no pants to push down?Quote:
Originally Posted by cacian
Alright, so after reading this over again, I am all too lazy to try to turn this into something worthwhile. But, I figured I wrote it, so I might as well share it so here it is. Again, I began writing this with an intention to go the extreme opposite of my self experience, opposite in every sense of the word. Enjoy, viewer discretion is advised, lol...Quote:
Originally Posted by cacian
Leshequa Brown
My boss is a *******, puttin’ me on da Friday night shift. Only da odd balls come in to Wal-mart tonight. Take dis guy, some tall lanky white boy, comin’ mah way. He don’t need no women’s bras, he ain’t foolin no body. He walk right past me, noddin down at me real fast. Mmm, I bet he taken dat chance to look at my *** too, dey all do.
It’s seven clock. Two maw hours and I’m outta here, wid my nice hefty paycheck. I’m assortin’ da langoray, mindin’ mah own business. Ain’t no body have da nerve to ask me no questions, dey scareder thanna wounded turkey on thanksgivin’. Dey should be scared. I might be five one, bud I’ma tough *****. You cross me wrong, I knock you where it hurts, and den sum.
“Excuse me, miss?” dat white boy actually talkin’ to me?
“Mhm?” I ask him. Whad he want?
“Do you have any more color selections for these?” He poin to da bras.
“Nuh uh, only tan, black, and blue.” Dis boy blind? Do he see any maw colors? I bed he some kinda cross dressin’ cracka, lookin’ for some pink langoray.
“Alright, thanks.” He walk off, all down abouded. Poor white boy. He ain’t god an *** between them back en legs.
Nine clock. Mah Gawd, finally time to ged outta here. I pull dis nasty blue smock offa me en go ged my paycheck. I open dit up: “$ 302.45”. Whattis dis ****! I go to Bob’s office, openin’ de door. He talkin’ to people, but I stand der lookin’ at him. I’ll wait here awll night. He look at me with his fine black eyes, den look back at da people. Da man look ova his shoulda at me and back fawward.
“What is it, Leshequa?” he ask me.
“My paycheck too low, Bobby.” I tell hem. He hate it when I call hem “Bobby.”
“Excuse me for one minute folks.” He tellem, geddin’ up and leadin’ me outside.
“You need to knock before you help yourself in my office, Leshequa.” Da nerve of dis man.
“I should have en extra fiftay dollars here.” I tell hem. He look at it and at me.
“That looks about your normal wage.” He tell me, tryin’ ta scam me.
“I worked Sunday too, I didn’t get no pay for dat day.” I tell hem.
“We went over this, Sundays go onto the next paycheck.”
“No one tell me dat.”
“We told everyone that at the last staff meeting. Where you there?”
“No, I hadda see mah family, I tawl you that.” He look at me all annoyed. Not mah fault my sista and brotha werin town.
“Well that’s the policy, Leshequa. I’m sorry but I have a priority to these people.” He pointo his office.
“Fine. But dis some real bull, Bob.” I tell hem as he leave. He a real *******, bud he got one fine *** on him, no doubt bout dat.
I get outta here en call my gurl. She pick up after few rings.
“Shenelle, whad you doin gurl?” I ask her.
“Hoe, ged ova here, we just godda fresh serve.” She tell me.
“*****, you start without me?”
“Shut you’re fattass up en ged ova here.”
“*****, I on my way, and I’ma **** you up for dat one.” I tell her, we both crack up.
I ged to Shenelle’s apadment, some good lookin’ niggas aw oudside. Oh, I recognize one, it’s Ledon! I luff Ledon, he so sweet.
“Ledawn!” I scream. He look at me all crack eyed, he stawted widout me too.
“Eey girl, whad take you so long?” he askin’ me.
“I had work.” I tell em.
“Girl you needa cum work fo’ me, I hook you up all good.”
“Awe, Ledawn I luff you.” I tell him.
“Leshequa, ged up here you hoe!” Shenelle yells down at me. Mmm, she alreaday all hopped up too. No one could wait for paw ol’ me.
“I’m comin, you shuddup.” I yell back up at her. I say bye to Ledawn and his boys and go up.
“You take carea yo fine ***, Leshequa.” He tell me.
“You too, sweetie.” I crack back at em.
I go up and meet Shenelle. The ammonia smell dis all around dis small place. I look into her kitchen, she already cooktet down, had dree maw balls roll’dup.
“Hoe, dis ain’t nuttin.” I tell er.
“You take too long, gurl. You do da last three.” She left it faw me.
“Awe dam, alright.
It not fav minets I’m there till da damn door bust down. Three blue shirted popo’s come runnin in all fast and furious like, one dem waven er gun all ova da place.
“Get down!” one dem say. Shenelle ain’t know what goin on till she return fro da bathroom, not geddin two steps oud till she taken down cold.
“No!” she shoudin as she topped by da big one wid a baton. I try helpin’ er out, bud da utter two wallen me in da kitchen, one wit a gun to mah head.
“Get down, now!” he shoutin”
“Alright, alright, please, we ain’t do nuttin wrong!” I try telling em.
“GED OFF ME!” I hear Shenelle shautin’ behind em.
“Whad he doin’ to her?” I asken as one a dem comen and pushen me down.
“YOU HURTIN ME, YOU ASSHAWL. COWARD!” Shenelle still shautin’.
“Hold still!” I hear ova me.
Dey cuff us bod and take us, me cryin’ all da while. Shenelle still be screamin’, still too high to relax. Dey pud us in sepret caws, mine behin ers. Why dis **** happen to me? What I do thas so wraun? Dis ain’t fair, nun uh it.
We at da station ten minets lata, en thrown inta a cell. Shenelle cryin’ now too, good. I dun wanna cry alone. We hole each otha faw a minute.
“I ken go back da jail!” Shenelle blubbin to me. She locked up once faw drugs, same one too. Dat paw gurl. She’s good, she jus’ a good as me. We ged stuck wid bad luck, das all it is.
Hi shaman and thank you for posting. Is Leshequa the real name or is it written in slang?
Most of it is written in street wise accent and so it is difficult in places to understand but it is lively ;)
That's a good question....Leshequa is her real name, as to whether or not anyone has that name, I have not a clue haha. It's pronounced, la-she-quah. Yeah I wouldn't be surprised if the accents inconsistent at points, but as I visualize this woman I laugh more and more. Good and bad aside, sometimes aspiring writers should stop trying to be the next Hemingway and just have fun with it. If you can pull off both life's just sweet.Quote:
Originally Posted by cacian
La-she-quah sounds like la chica in spanish which means the girl. It is interesting. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Shaman_Raman
I thought the lingo was rather contrived. I wonder if writing in first person you can successfully employ two lingos - one for dialogue and the other for narration and still get an authentic piece?
In the first person, I'd imagine you'd want a consistent lingo in the narration and dialogue. Unless it's like a spy novel where the narrator changes their lingo multiple times in the dialogue intentionally. But for portraying a lack of intelligence, or just slang or an extreme accent from a certain region, the narrator should be thinking in the same lingo their speaking.