Aug. 29th, 2008

[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Fri, 1 Dec 1995 12:54:19 EST

FAQ: Somewhere Near The Dudley Do Write Inn, (rev. 8)

walking down memory lane, I turned into this place in the moonlight...
thought some of you might enjoy taking a stroll with me.

[for those who wonder what the heck this is, keep reading...]

tink
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Somewhere Near The Dudley Do Write Inn,
On a Dark and Stormy Night
Nov. 28, 1995 (rev. 8)

You look a little lost, so let me introduce you to the place. It can be a mite confusing at first.

What is this? Well, let me invite you into the WRITERS Saloon, part time grill, and (sometimes) font for libations (all kinds welcome). Some people think of this as the bar for after the workshop, which isn't a bad way to describe it.

Don't you go listening to those rumors about us being a front for liberations, we just like candelabra on our piano now and then. Nothing to do with libertines, fraternizations, and eggheads, really.

I notice you're admiring that bar. Let me tell you, it's pretty special. Starts at WRITERS@[odd address], also called writers@[another address], but the bar (whether you're looking for drinking, ballet, or judgment) stretches around the world with plenty of odd kinks and twists. You can get caught in those angles in no time.

The place is open for business any time. Serves stories, poetry, essays, and those big bowls of chatter for your pleasure. If you don't see what you like, feel free to whip some up and set it out on the bar for everybody to enjoy. Don't let the comments about seasoning get to you, everyone seems to have their own notions about the best way to get the taste right. Try some of the bubbly humor or those dark poetics and relax with the folks.

Darn! Oh, not you. Someone stuck some of their gum up under the edge of the bar here. Just a minute, I got to get that out before it gets hard. That stuff seems to turn up everywhere.

Oh, now that's really pretty disgusting. Someone left their ear under here. Those artists!

Where were we? Oh, if you like gambling, try the Dare. Best game in town, I think. Simple, too, like drinking a shotglass of beer every minute. Just write a new story every week and send them all out to the magazines. Ask around, someone can tell you all about it.

There's usually a Quote Of The Day going on, and some of the folks toss in a game of words now and then. Some of the exercises are good ways to stretch your writing, too.

Aside from that, there's a fair amount of friendly talk, sometimes making it hard for your order to get through. But be patient, we will get around to you in time. If you get in a hurry, help us out.

Let's see. There's lots of dark corners, and always an empty seat for another lurker. So if that's what you want to do, set down, take a sip from the pop bubbling around or fill your plate at the smorgasbord of literate delights and relax for a while, watch the show.

If you get to feeling rowdy, go ahead and take a swing. Fair warning, plenty of these folks carry loaded words, so you may find yourself looking down a double-barreled thesaurus full of words. Some of the folks also like to dance, though, and you may get invited onto the floor. Can't tell until you try, and even then you may not be sure.

Oh, if you get into a real knock-down drag-'em-out fight, please take it outside. If you've got some real fancy wordwork, we might all watch for a while, but don't just keep on wasting everyone's time. Take it out in the alleys, and let us know how it comes out.

Whoops! Turn your head a little, that's it, there you are. Got to watch out for that mirror, it's a specialty of the place. Liable to show you almost anything. Fellow that made it, let me think, oh, yeah, Marlin, British fellow, I think, he said it's just like those ones they had way back in Greece and Rome, maybe before that, but he added in a lot of fancy new stuff. Sometimes you can see forever in it, sometimes just the back of your head... Takes some getting used to, but then you start to like seeing yourself in new ways. Bet you never knew about that little extra something back there on your neck, now did you?

If you get curious about something, ask around, and someone will usually help you out. Friendly bunch, even if they don't have a lot of spare time. They're all writers, you know, just like you, so don't yell at them about not doing something until you've tried doing it yourself. I mean, look at who has to sweep up - and I'm not getting paid for it, either.

Who am I? I run the popcorn, peanuts, and candy concession out at the east end of the bar, near Ha'va'd. Got a special on bubble gum this week, if you want some. I'll help pop your bubble, too. Just call me tink.

Okay, I'm going to put away the broom and leave you alone out here for a while. Whenever you're ready, step up to the bar or kick off your shoes and jump on the dance floor and show the folks your stuff.

They'll be looking for it. Just remember the key - write and write and write and...

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[Please feel free to print this FAQ and keep a copy for when you have questions! In fact, the author would be pleased if you did that.]

The meat in this sandwich - v. 18, Nov. 28, 1995

[removed because it is way past the use by date]
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You know, I think that storm's clearing up. Maybe you can find what you're looking for, or we can see you, dancing by the light of the moon at the Saloon... Won't you come out tonight?
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[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Thu, 3 Aug 1995 14:46:24 EDT

[for those who haven't had the pleasure before--first, a few words from me. then the answers you might have thought you would find here. and, if we're lucky, something to end it all...with a BANG!]

the smoke hovers. your eyes sting.

the ancient figure that ushered you into this strange cavern of shadows seems to have vanished while you were blinking.

and...

in the east, sunrise blares up from the darkened hulks of sleeping mammoths and other detritus of the city. streaks slide in and up, widen, and slowly feed blood into the dark sky, beating it into blue life for another day.

in the west, a hungry thunderstorm slavers and scratches across the quivering backs of foothills. from time to time, it roars out a challenge to the world, afraid of nothing and showing it. do not tease it, for it is cornered and sorely fearful, and its bite is worse than its bark.

in the north, the frozen wastes quietly snore their way into crystalline dreams of glory. They glint, remembering the ancient days when ice gripped the wide spaces to the south in a clean white glove of tender glacial calm. They crackle in the cold air, as ears ache and noses drip, with sympathy for the poor enslaved relatives forced into cubes by human technology. They snort, nightmares recurring, as they think of being dunked in soda or alcohol at the hands of a human. Imagine! melting, melting, turning into mere water, just for human tastes.

in the south, outlaws cuss, horses rear, and other quaint relics of a mythical past fan their six-guns and stand tall, no matter how short they may be...

all this, while in the mystical write direction, words tumble and shimmer, coating ideas with fractal colors and incoherence, cracked! and limited by punctuation, mere passing letters on the river of ink...

in the center, spinning slowly inside a tangled web of grammar, lies...

[oh, heck, let me put down my tropes and yack at you.

this is writers. glad you could drop by. feel free to take part in the continuing mailstorm, and don't feel too surprised if things aren't exactly what you expected. just keep on writing, keep on reading, and you may be surprised to find that while it isn't what you thought you wanted, it may be exactly what you needed...:-]

and with a flashing clash of ? and !, he brought the wild sentence to a .

and there was a submission:

the beginning.
by a. writer

(next, your words, please?...yes, fill in the blank and send it soon!)

tink
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[Please feel free to print this FAQ and keep a copy for when you have questions! In fact, the author would be pleased if you did that.]

The meat in this sandwich - v. 17, July 4, 1995

[long out out of warranty, and so removed]
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the end with a bang?

well, ignoring the bad jokes which the phrase may suggest, let me recommend:

Write until it hurts.
Then write about the hurting.
Submit, and submit again.
And bang!

they sold happily ever after...

that's it!

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