[thebigjewel] I, Writer - July 3, 2002

  • From: "The Big Jewel" <list@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: thebigjewel@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Wed, 3 Jul 2002 12:26:38 -0600 (MDT)

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Independence Day. Due to an error with this mailing list, we may have sent 
this message out twice today. Sorry for any inconvenience. Happy Canada Day 
and/or Independence Day. 

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I, Writer
By David Jaggard

The Big Jewel has received an advance copy of an essay on creative writing 
to be published as the introduction to the next book by a major bestselling 
author. For legal reasons we can't identify him by name, but suffice it to 
say that he writes the kind of glitzy doorstop-sized novels that you see in 
every airport and second-hand shop in the country. Also, when NASA 
announced that the Hubble Space Telescope had located the exact center of 
the known universe, he was very surprised and disappointed to find out that 
it wasn't his house. 

****************************************************** 

You can bring the prisoner down now. 
Tom Swift 

Now that I'm an internationally renowned writer, it's surprising that no 
one ever comes up to me and says, "How I envy you. How I wish I could be a 
writer too." But I know so many of you would say that, if only you had the 
chance, so I am writing this article to set the record straight once and 
for all: you can't be a writer. You can't be a writer because you can't 
write. You don't believe me? Well, try it: 

___________________________________________________________ 

___________________________________________________________ 

___________________________________________________________ 

___________________________________________________________ 

You see? Pretty pathetic. Now watch this: 

Lucinda's nostrils flared ever so slightly as Derek handed her an icy glass 
filled to the brim with vintage champagne. Small beads of perspiration 
formed on her tanned forehead, kind of reflecting the beads of condensation 
forming on the glass, in a way. If you see what I mean. So then Derek leans 
forward meaningfully and says, even more meaningfully, "I want to run my 
fingers through your hair. I long to kiss your luscious lips. I yearn to 
embrace your delicate neck. I've got a hankering to drop to my knees and 
rip open your dress and. . ." 

I could go on, but let's stop there. Now I'm not trying to be arrogant (in 
fact, I'm exerting no effort at all) but if I wanted to, in about three or 
four days of intense, frenzied, all-consumingly obsessive work I could 
expand that little gem of an idea into a 900-page blockbuster epic saga 
packed with life, love, romance and power, full of undeniable lust, 
unimaginable wealth, seismic sex and Pi to 7,000 decimal places. Hardback 
sales would top eight figures. The movie rights alone would put me and all 
the future generations of my extended family on Easy Street for good. But 
hey, I don't feel like it right now. I've got ideas like that to burn. 
Also, I'm supposed to be telling you what it takes to be a writer. So here 
goes: 

For the full article please visit http://www.thebigjewel.com/writer

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  • » [thebigjewel] I, Writer - July 3, 2002