Back in my legit writing days, I remember the professor encouraging us to write in different narrative modes.
I think he would say the most difficult was writing in the first person, as the opposite sex.
Well, considering I'm stubborn, and... border-line retardedly (pretty fucking sure I just invented that word) ambitious, I wrote ONE story in first-person male mode... and he was cool with it. However, I seriously think this man was easy on me because I reminded him of his daughter. Every other person (besides Kelley) has slaughtered me on my shit.
Now, while I'd love to write up an entire first-person, female narrative, followed up by the equivalent, but male form, so you can compare and rate my efficiency... it's too time consuming... for me to write AND others to read.
Instead, I'll give you a couple of scenarios/conversations that went down NYE-- my interaction with Darcy.
What really went down will be in normal font/color, but my subconscious thoughts (as in, what I was actually thinking but couldn't properly articulate) will be in italicized pink letters (as opposed to my usual style of going for good ol' green when it comes to my subconscious). I'll also take the liberty to occasionally insert what I think really crossed Darcy's mind-- that'll be in italic blue letters.
Alright, be my guest and wince away as you watch this protagonist--me-- blow it with her cringe-worthy performance. Enjoy (honestly, it was like an out of body experience where I was watching--in horror-- how I was fucking up but I was just so paralyzed by a severe "stupid moment" that I couldn't fix it).
Example numero uno.
As he's waiting for the beer pong table to be set up, Darcy walks over to me and kills some time.
Darcy: You know what's sad? That the first paper of mine to ever be published... was a science paper... and not, you know... something... great. Something of fiction.
Me: Yeah. That's crazy. But cool. I'm jealous. When we first met, I was the scientist.
Yeah, like that didn't come off as you being a cuntface, AnoMALIE.
His friend: Then what happened?
Me: I fucked up, that's what happened.
Great... am I turning Hood AnoMALIE right now?
Drama queen.
Darcy: Yeah. So I have that article. If I were to email it to you, would you read it... and give me your honest... non-biased opinion?
Boy, if your job was to write the list of ingredients on a ketchup packet, I'd read every single ketchup packet I'd bump into and consider it a masterpiece each and every time...
Me: Of course. Even if... I haven't read anything scientifically-related in years... no, that's a lie. I read science articles all the time.
Stop... just stop talking, AnoMALIE. You're only digging the hole deeper.
Example #2.
Darcy asks if I have seen our old professor.
Me: Nah... I'm too embarrassed to talk to him right now.
Drama queen.
Darcy: Why?
Me: Because of my failure...
Don't cry, pendeja.
Darcy: Because you didn't get into schools like Stanford... and NYU?
Oh. My. God. LAME!
Me: Yeah.
I know it's stupid... but with my bro going to Notre Dame for undergrad, then Princeton for grad, this shit feels like someone just curb-stomped me, History-X style. It forever pigeonholes me into the "vieja pendeja" category with my family.
Girls...
Darcy: When I first moved to (city he lives at now), my roommate was this... brilliant scientist. Like... in our... field, you have to be... efficient at science, and computers.... and usually... people are... good at one thing, but not the other. But this guy, he knew about both, right.
I'd be the one who'd know nothing about either...
Darcy: Well, he applied to Harvard... as an undergrad, a grad, and post, and he was rejected by them. Three times.
So quit crying, wuss.
Darcy: Now he's... this... well-known scientist. A much sought-after professor... he's doing all these brilliant things now... and to think Harvard rejected him.
Is she even listening? Her eyes are glazed over... ?
Yeah... but that's Harvard... Harvard's HAAAARD.
Fuck it, looks like I'll keep talking in hopes this shit registers in her hard head.
Darcy: I guess the point of this story is... you know... fuck those schools."
I like his pep talks. They're so cute.
This bitch did not hear a word I just said...
Example number howmanytimescanyoufuckupAnoMALIE?!
We're all standing in the living room, watching the countdown. I notice Darcy's holding up his camera, filming the screen.
You're seriously recording the television screen?
We all countdown, then cheer to the new year.
Get off your fucking camera!
I cheer with everyone, even strangers... everyone but Darcy... I don't know how that happens, but it does. (Now that I think about it, I did not wish him a happy new year at all... wow... how fucking retarded can I get?)
Seven minutes into the fireworks display, I'm still standing near the television, watching the fireworks, occasionally the other guests. Somehow Darcy reappears and stands next to me and his bestie.
Darcy: What a waste.
Pointing your camera at the television screen during the countdown? I agree.
Darcy: Who needs to spend all that money on fireworks? It's such a waste. Look at that. Or what do you think?
Do you EVER have an opinion? Do you seriously EVER talk?
I think you shouldn't have been pointing that fucking camera at the television screen...
Me: Fireworks are cool... but not for seven... now eight minutes.
Darcy: Yeah, see. A total waste.
Like pointing your fucking camera at the television screen...
Me: Now there's the lovely pessimist I knew!
Even when you're ranting... you're sooooo fucking cute.
How is that pessimistic? It's the TRUTH!
We notice after the eight minute mark the fireworks finally end. We start walking in opposite directions.
Darcy: Well, that was anticlimactic...
Because you were pointing your fucking camera at the fucking television screen!
Stupid fireworks!
And that's the type of shit my professor enjoyed.
Grimace, much, guys?
There were a few more moments similar to that... where I'd just bottle up and seem retarded...
Poor Darcy... it was like he was trying to pull teeth.
In unison, let's all shake our heads in disapproval of me.
Baaaaad AnoMALIE!
I think he would say the most difficult was writing in the first person, as the opposite sex.
Well, considering I'm stubborn, and... border-line retardedly (pretty fucking sure I just invented that word) ambitious, I wrote ONE story in first-person male mode... and he was cool with it. However, I seriously think this man was easy on me because I reminded him of his daughter. Every other person (besides Kelley) has slaughtered me on my shit.
Now, while I'd love to write up an entire first-person, female narrative, followed up by the equivalent, but male form, so you can compare and rate my efficiency... it's too time consuming... for me to write AND others to read.
Instead, I'll give you a couple of scenarios/conversations that went down NYE-- my interaction with Darcy.
What really went down will be in normal font/color, but my subconscious thoughts (as in, what I was actually thinking but couldn't properly articulate) will be in italicized pink letters (as opposed to my usual style of going for good ol' green when it comes to my subconscious). I'll also take the liberty to occasionally insert what I think really crossed Darcy's mind-- that'll be in italic blue letters.
Alright, be my guest and wince away as you watch this protagonist--me-- blow it with her cringe-worthy performance. Enjoy (honestly, it was like an out of body experience where I was watching--in horror-- how I was fucking up but I was just so paralyzed by a severe "stupid moment" that I couldn't fix it).
Example numero uno.
As he's waiting for the beer pong table to be set up, Darcy walks over to me and kills some time.
Darcy: You know what's sad? That the first paper of mine to ever be published... was a science paper... and not, you know... something... great. Something of fiction.
Me: Yeah. That's crazy. But cool. I'm jealous. When we first met, I was the scientist.
Yeah, like that didn't come off as you being a cuntface, AnoMALIE.
His friend: Then what happened?
Me: I fucked up, that's what happened.
Great... am I turning Hood AnoMALIE right now?
Drama queen.
Darcy: Yeah. So I have that article. If I were to email it to you, would you read it... and give me your honest... non-biased opinion?
Boy, if your job was to write the list of ingredients on a ketchup packet, I'd read every single ketchup packet I'd bump into and consider it a masterpiece each and every time...
Me: Of course. Even if... I haven't read anything scientifically-related in years... no, that's a lie. I read science articles all the time.
Stop... just stop talking, AnoMALIE. You're only digging the hole deeper.
Example #2.
Darcy asks if I have seen our old professor.
Me: Nah... I'm too embarrassed to talk to him right now.
Drama queen.
Darcy: Why?
Me: Because of my failure...
Don't cry, pendeja.
Darcy: Because you didn't get into schools like Stanford... and NYU?
Oh. My. God. LAME!
Me: Yeah.
I know it's stupid... but with my bro going to Notre Dame for undergrad, then Princeton for grad, this shit feels like someone just curb-stomped me, History-X style. It forever pigeonholes me into the "vieja pendeja" category with my family.
Girls...
Darcy: When I first moved to (city he lives at now), my roommate was this... brilliant scientist. Like... in our... field, you have to be... efficient at science, and computers.... and usually... people are... good at one thing, but not the other. But this guy, he knew about both, right.
I'd be the one who'd know nothing about either...
Darcy: Well, he applied to Harvard... as an undergrad, a grad, and post, and he was rejected by them. Three times.
So quit crying, wuss.
Darcy: Now he's... this... well-known scientist. A much sought-after professor... he's doing all these brilliant things now... and to think Harvard rejected him.
Is she even listening? Her eyes are glazed over... ?
Yeah... but that's Harvard... Harvard's HAAAARD.
Fuck it, looks like I'll keep talking in hopes this shit registers in her hard head.
Darcy: I guess the point of this story is... you know... fuck those schools."
I like his pep talks. They're so cute.
This bitch did not hear a word I just said...
Example number howmanytimescanyoufuckupAnoMALIE?!
We're all standing in the living room, watching the countdown. I notice Darcy's holding up his camera, filming the screen.
You're seriously recording the television screen?
We all countdown, then cheer to the new year.
Get off your fucking camera!
I cheer with everyone, even strangers... everyone but Darcy... I don't know how that happens, but it does. (Now that I think about it, I did not wish him a happy new year at all... wow... how fucking retarded can I get?)
Seven minutes into the fireworks display, I'm still standing near the television, watching the fireworks, occasionally the other guests. Somehow Darcy reappears and stands next to me and his bestie.
Darcy: What a waste.
Pointing your camera at the television screen during the countdown? I agree.
Darcy: Who needs to spend all that money on fireworks? It's such a waste. Look at that. Or what do you think?
Do you EVER have an opinion? Do you seriously EVER talk?
I think you shouldn't have been pointing that fucking camera at the television screen...
Me: Fireworks are cool... but not for seven... now eight minutes.
Darcy: Yeah, see. A total waste.
Like pointing your fucking camera at the television screen...
Me: Now there's the lovely pessimist I knew!
Even when you're ranting... you're sooooo fucking cute.
How is that pessimistic? It's the TRUTH!
We notice after the eight minute mark the fireworks finally end. We start walking in opposite directions.
Darcy: Well, that was anticlimactic...
Because you were pointing your fucking camera at the fucking television screen!
Stupid fireworks!
And that's the type of shit my professor enjoyed.
Grimace, much, guys?
There were a few more moments similar to that... where I'd just bottle up and seem retarded...
Poor Darcy... it was like he was trying to pull teeth.
In unison, let's all shake our heads in disapproval of me.
Baaaaad AnoMALIE!
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