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Creative Writing at It's Best
Email | Unknown

Posted on 06/26/2003 6:19:19 PM PDT by William Terrell

Remember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Here's a prime example offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix:

Class Assignment for Wednesday

"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story.

You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back also sending another copy to me.

The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of my English students:

********************************************** ----------------------------------------------------------------

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
-----------------------------------------------------------
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,....", he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities. Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
---------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret Mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F*CKING TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels."
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
A**hole.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
B*tch. ********************************************** <

(TEACHER) A+ -- I really liked this one. Only group to get an A!


TOPICS: Activism/Chapters
KEYWORDS: oldiebutgoodie
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To: William Terrell
Bwhahahahaah. All Right Gary!
21 posted on 06/26/2003 6:48:42 PM PDT by Dan from Michigan ("Say Hey! Hey! Damn Yankee!")
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To: gcruse
As she sat in quiet contemplation of the heat that enveloped the entire room, nay, her entire world, she slowly ran her finger around in the dust of the never polished oak desk at which she sat. As she did, the music and the words that she wrote formed a simple sort of medley that ran rampant in her head. The musty smell of the aging parlor only added to the feeling of timelessness that was seeping into her bones.


[Back to you.]
22 posted on 06/26/2003 6:49:06 PM PDT by Cathryn Crawford
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To: ntnychik
This is hilarious!! Like another poster above, I'm going to send it in emails!!
23 posted on 06/26/2003 6:50:44 PM PDT by potlatch
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To: rwfromkansas
The group A only would be due to amusing the crap out of me of course though, as neither actually completed the assignment.
24 posted on 06/26/2003 6:52:00 PM PDT by rwfromkansas ("There is dust enough on some of your Bibles to write 'damnation' with your fingers." C.H. Spurgeon)
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To: boris
Most igniting, Boris!
25 posted on 06/26/2003 6:52:37 PM PDT by MHGinTN (If you can read this, you've had life support from someone. Promote Life Support for others.)
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To: Cathryn Crawford
As she sat in quiet contemplation of the heat that enveloped the entire room, nay, her entire world, she slowly ran her finger around in the dust of the never polished oak desk at which she sat. As she did, the music and the words that she wrote formed a simple sort of medley that ran rampant in her head. The musty smell of the aging parlor only added to the feeling of timelessness that was seeping into her bones.

He swept into the parlor like a brazen, fresh breeze. "Dust this place!" He snapped, cracking his riding crop against the desk. She cowered in fear. Dust? What, like a mere servant? How?

26 posted on 06/26/2003 6:58:50 PM PDT by A_perfect_lady
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To: A_perfect_lady
He swept into the parlor like a brazen, fresh breeze. "Dust this place!" He snapped, cracking his riding crop against the desk. She cowered in fear. Dust? What, like a mere servant? How?

And then, in an instant, all her fear was forgotten as the overwhelming rage filled her. "You dust it yourself, dear sir!", she snapped, and he fell back in surprise. He had never heard that sneering tone in her silky voice before.

27 posted on 06/26/2003 7:01:24 PM PDT by Cathryn Crawford (All libertines are dopers. Don't you know that?)
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To: harpseal; wardaddy; Squantos; Lazamataz; PatrioticAmerican; Eaker; Beelzebubba
Holding my sides ping!!!!! Hysterical!!!!!!
28 posted on 06/26/2003 7:01:28 PM PDT by Travis McGee (----- www.EnemiesForeignAndDomestic.com -----)
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To: hollywood; Poohbah; Myrddin
Ping!
29 posted on 06/26/2003 7:03:55 PM PDT by Travis McGee (----- www.EnemiesForeignAndDomestic.com -----)
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To: Cathryn Crawford
Maybe she knew he was coming and had just
forgotten, or maybe Cathryn wanted to punish
Brent for some unintended slight, but even
though she recognized the timidity of his light
rap on her door, her hand dropped off the
edge of the correspondence desk onto a crystal
faceted knob drawer pull.  The drawer gave no resistance
and she pulled it out, her glance seeking out the
1911 model Colt pistol as her hand wrapped
around the ivory grip in a practiced single
motion.

"Brent?  Is that you?" and she pull back the hammer.

             [Over to you]
30 posted on 06/26/2003 7:04:16 PM PDT by gcruse (There is no such thing as society: there are individual men and women[.] --Margaret Thatcher)
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To: Zavien Doombringer; Constitution Day; MWS
Ping for good friends.

This is hilarious. Prepare to laugh your eyes out!
31 posted on 06/26/2003 7:07:18 PM PDT by 4mycountry (Japanese drain pipe is so tiny, please don't flush too much toilet papers.)
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To: William Terrell
Our NSS club volunteered to "edit and update" the Space Exploration handbook for the Boy Scouts! A committee of dedicated space activists were assembled. I became the committee chairman who would coordinate and submit our output to the Handbook Coordinator at BSA headquarters.

Remember that Super Bowl commercial where cowboys are trying to herd cats! I've come to find out that herding cats is easier than coordinating a bunch of know-it-all space geeks!

However, I did accomplish this leadership job by adopting my space persona!


32 posted on 06/26/2003 7:09:29 PM PDT by Young Werther
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To: gcruse
"Yes, it's me", said Brent, as he came into the room with the easy charm that she had once admired and now loathed. He walked to her and as she watched him the hand that lay on the desk clinched unknowingly, leaving skin-colored grooves in the once unmarred oak. After an interminable period of time, she forced herself to relax and the shaking in her hands stopped. She stood, the hand holding the gun tucked carefully behind her, and slowly turned to meet Brent.
33 posted on 06/26/2003 7:09:39 PM PDT by Cathryn Crawford (All libertines are dopers. Don't you know that?)
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To: Freedom_Is_Not_Free
Funny, but I would have given Rebecca a D for failing to complete the assignment and given Gary a C- for failing to attempt to get the assignment back on track when Rebecca killed it.

Ah, but every once in a while there comes along something that is priceless, and paying homage to the author(s) is demanded, however far from the established guidelines they might wander.

34 posted on 06/26/2003 7:10:43 PM PDT by William Terrell (People can exist without government but government can't exist without people)
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To: 4mycountry
ROTFL...Thanks for the ping... that was hilarious!!!
35 posted on 06/26/2003 7:11:54 PM PDT by MWS (Errare humanum est, in errore perservare stultum.)
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To: Travis McGee
Oldie but a goodie.

BTW, I told my wife that it's really because "Women are from Venus, Men are from Bakersfield."
36 posted on 06/26/2003 7:13:38 PM PDT by Poohbah (I must be all here, because I'm not all there!)
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To: Cathryn Crawford
And then, in an instant, all her fear was forgotten as the overwhelming rage filled her. "You dust it yourself, dear sir!", she snapped, and he fell back in surprise. He had never heard that sneering tone in her silky voice before.

He was completely at sea. Why was she so sneering, so enraged? She was a minimum wage, no-skills twit when he found her. She had nothing, nothing but a B.A. in Women's Studies and the promise of a decent head of hair if she stopped shaving her head. He had taken her away from her job at Barnes & Noble, taken her away from those Saturday nights hanging out at Tres Hombres with her equally bitter girl friends. She'd been happy to get into his car, happy to move into his house, happy that his parents had investments in major corporations with dividends to share. And now, now she was turning on him.... was it because of .... the baby?

37 posted on 06/26/2003 7:17:11 PM PDT by A_perfect_lady (Let 'em eat cake and like it.)
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To: Cathryn Crawford
"Cath, I...I've done something terrible," Brent managed to choke
out between his now unruly lips.  "My brother Lester has been
gambling money from the bathtub gin business and now he owes
his bookie fifty thousand dollars."

"What does that have to do with me, Brent?"  But the slowly spreading
ball of cold fury in the pit of her stomach was triggering adrenaline and
a trembling trigger finger that portended something worse than rash.

"I told him that I'd get him the money by selling you into white slavery.
You'd do that for me, old gal, wouldn't you?  Remember all the good
times we had?  Be a pal."
38 posted on 06/26/2003 7:20:38 PM PDT by gcruse (There is no such thing as society: there are individual men and women[.] --Margaret Thatcher)
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To: A_perfect_lady
He was completely at sea. Why was she so sneering, so enraged? She was a minimum wage, no-skills twit when he found her. She had nothing, nothing but a B.A. in Women's Studies and the promise of a decent head of hair if she stopped shaving her head. He had taken her away from her job at Barnes & Noble, taken her away from those Saturday nights hanging out at Tres Hombres with her equally bitter girl friends. She'd been happy to get into his car, happy to move into his house, happy that his parents had investments in major corporations with dividends to share. And now, now she was turning on him.... was it because of .... the baby?

She knew he knew. He was only trying to force her into the same old degrading patterns because she was going to have his child. As she spread her hands across her ever-growing stomach, she was determined to no longer allow him to treat her this way. She was, after all, the product of one of the best liberal colleges in the Northeast. She had given up everything - her beautiful shaved scalp, her fulfilling job in an intellectually stimulating work enviroment, her nicely furnished one room studio flat - everything she had, she had given it up for him. And this - this was how he repayed her? With this reinforcement of her negative value as a woman? She would not stand for it. Her conscience would not allow her to.


39 posted on 06/26/2003 7:23:10 PM PDT by Cathryn Crawford (All libertines are dopers. Don't you know that?)
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To: William Terrell

40 posted on 06/26/2003 7:25:08 PM PDT by arasina (America: STILL the BEST! Offering Freedom, Justice and The Pursuit of Happiness Since 1776)
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