The Life and Opinions of the Quietly Chirping Bird
I'm in a rather creative mood at the moment, and I have the desire to write something, anything--something with beautifully crafted metaphors and breathtaking diction. Something lyrical. Something that feels like a movie with no music. Something classic like Crime and Punishment, but with the humor of P.G. Wodehouse. It would be long too, like The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy (except without all that talk about noses and such).
I sit down at the computer, my favorite word processor open and I come up with this:
"The bird chirped quietly, not because he was afraid of disturbing the early morning air or because he was ashamed of his terrible E flat--he certainly had the confidence to belt out an E flat at six o'clock in the morning. He chirped quietly because the man who lived in the house next door to his tree had once tried to shoot him one morning. The bird quickly and expertly deduced that the man was upset my his loud chirping, and so he now chirps quietly."
Genius, isn't it?
I sit down at the computer, my favorite word processor open and I come up with this:
"The bird chirped quietly, not because he was afraid of disturbing the early morning air or because he was ashamed of his terrible E flat--he certainly had the confidence to belt out an E flat at six o'clock in the morning. He chirped quietly because the man who lived in the house next door to his tree had once tried to shoot him one morning. The bird quickly and expertly deduced that the man was upset my his loud chirping, and so he now chirps quietly."
Genius, isn't it?