Today is a new story
Are you doing the things that make you a more interesting person?
How do you become a more interesting person?
I suppose you could get better at telling stories, but you have to have a compelling story in the first place.
Alright. I have an idea. I will come up with a new story every day. With a few requirements. Once I start, I can't stop typing or delete anything. Then I have to go back and figure out where it was too long and re-write it without looking at what I wrote before... This should be interesting... And also hell because I happen to think in shapes and feelings instead of words... (Weird, I know...) But I'll deal because it will make me a better person in the end... Hopefully. *laughs*
(Insert really long deleted story here.)
1.5 hours later... Alright, not cool. My first attempt was depressing, so I deleted it. *mutters hell under breath* Try again.
Person: an astrologist
Place: Space shoe universe
Inciting incident: they didn't have her size
Hufflepuff. She whispers and stalks out of the store. They always have my size. That guy must have just wanted me to come back tomorrow. Why didn't he just ask for my phone number if he wants me so much? Gosh. Not that I would have given it to a sniveling store clerk like him. Tell me they don't have my size...
Oh well, crocks. You will have one more day to live before you are replaced with new crocks. She pets her feet.
Now, back to my work!
The astrologist sits on a stool. She stares at a telescope, then looks at her watch.
Well, that was a good break. I think I'll go back to work now.
The astrologists returns to her computer and resumes typing code.
The next day. Astrologists returns to the store. She mutters under her breath loud enough for everyone to hear... ...-ing Store clerk. Why me??? ...'nother store clerk. ...going to do??? Hello Miss, can I help you with anything today? Why, yes... Alright miss, what can I help you with? I was wondering if I could give you my phone number. You want to give me your phone number? That's what I said. Unless you can think of another way to make you leave me alone. Well, do you have any suggestions?... Um. I'm just the shoe guy. I just thought you might want me to get you some shoes from the back. That's all. I'm the shoe guy. I get shoes.
You sly boy. I might be pretty, but that doesn't mean I'm ignorant. I know what you were up to with your shoes in the back, or should I say lack thereof yesterday.
The astrologist slips a piece of paper in his back pocket and walks away beaming.
The shoe clerk reads it. It is her phone number with a smiley face.
The astrologist sits at her stool next to 3 different phones. She picks one up. She gets a ring tone. She dials a number on her cell phone. The three phones ring simultaneously. It's working. Hmmm...
The door bell rings. Immediately-I knew you'd call! I love you too, shoe perso- The door bell rings again. How did you know where I- She answers the door. -live?
Traveling sales man. Hi, my name is Crock, founder of Crocks Shoes and executive producer of the only seen on television show That's a Crock!: Cooking with Crock's Pots.
The astrologist gasps and grovels. She kneels, humbling her eyes to Crock's feet. Then: Oh my God! The shoes! What? The shoes, the pink and purple shoes with glitter! I just had to have some but the stupid store clerk said they were out. Oh! It's so clear now, he must have wanted them for himself!
Crock: It's okay lady. They're just shoes. You can have these if you want. I've got like 500 pair. In fact, let's talk about shoes. My new shoe line is state of the-
The astrologist grabs Crocks shirt and pulls him inside, accidentally hitting him with her lips.
In retrospect... I didn't do any of the things I said I was going to do. I don't want to re-write it because I like the way it is, but I totally fucked up the whole point of spontaneous generation. Suggestions anyone?
How do you become a more interesting person?
I suppose you could get better at telling stories, but you have to have a compelling story in the first place.
Alright. I have an idea. I will come up with a new story every day. With a few requirements. Once I start, I can't stop typing or delete anything. Then I have to go back and figure out where it was too long and re-write it without looking at what I wrote before... This should be interesting... And also hell because I happen to think in shapes and feelings instead of words... (Weird, I know...) But I'll deal because it will make me a better person in the end... Hopefully. *laughs*
(Insert really long deleted story here.)
1.5 hours later... Alright, not cool. My first attempt was depressing, so I deleted it. *mutters hell under breath* Try again.
Person: an astrologist
Place: Space shoe universe
Inciting incident: they didn't have her size
Hufflepuff. She whispers and stalks out of the store. They always have my size. That guy must have just wanted me to come back tomorrow. Why didn't he just ask for my phone number if he wants me so much? Gosh. Not that I would have given it to a sniveling store clerk like him. Tell me they don't have my size...
Oh well, crocks. You will have one more day to live before you are replaced with new crocks. She pets her feet.
Now, back to my work!
The astrologist sits on a stool. She stares at a telescope, then looks at her watch.
Well, that was a good break. I think I'll go back to work now.
The astrologists returns to her computer and resumes typing code.
The next day. Astrologists returns to the store. She mutters under her breath loud enough for everyone to hear... ...-ing Store clerk. Why me??? ...'nother store clerk. ...going to do??? Hello Miss, can I help you with anything today? Why, yes... Alright miss, what can I help you with? I was wondering if I could give you my phone number. You want to give me your phone number? That's what I said. Unless you can think of another way to make you leave me alone. Well, do you have any suggestions?... Um. I'm just the shoe guy. I just thought you might want me to get you some shoes from the back. That's all. I'm the shoe guy. I get shoes.
You sly boy. I might be pretty, but that doesn't mean I'm ignorant. I know what you were up to with your shoes in the back, or should I say lack thereof yesterday.
The astrologist slips a piece of paper in his back pocket and walks away beaming.
The shoe clerk reads it. It is her phone number with a smiley face.
The astrologist sits at her stool next to 3 different phones. She picks one up. She gets a ring tone. She dials a number on her cell phone. The three phones ring simultaneously. It's working. Hmmm...
The door bell rings. Immediately-I knew you'd call! I love you too, shoe perso- The door bell rings again. How did you know where I- She answers the door. -live?
Traveling sales man. Hi, my name is Crock, founder of Crocks Shoes and executive producer of the only seen on television show That's a Crock!: Cooking with Crock's Pots.
The astrologist gasps and grovels. She kneels, humbling her eyes to Crock's feet. Then: Oh my God! The shoes! What? The shoes, the pink and purple shoes with glitter! I just had to have some but the stupid store clerk said they were out. Oh! It's so clear now, he must have wanted them for himself!
Crock: It's okay lady. They're just shoes. You can have these if you want. I've got like 500 pair. In fact, let's talk about shoes. My new shoe line is state of the-
The astrologist grabs Crocks shirt and pulls him inside, accidentally hitting him with her lips.
In retrospect... I didn't do any of the things I said I was going to do. I don't want to re-write it because I like the way it is, but I totally fucked up the whole point of spontaneous generation. Suggestions anyone?