So, I heard that FOX News Channel is launching a daily humor show to compete with The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. Imagine Gerald Ford performing stand-up during open mic night at the Improv, and you’ll have an inkling of how unfunny the whole endeavor is.
From 101 Reasons to Stop Writing:
Every sex scene is gratuitous.
For every sexual sequence in a novel that imparts some insight into the characters, let alone the human condition, there are thousands which exist solely because the author got to page 180 and realised the main characters hadn’t fscked yet. Almost all of them could be edited down to “And then they did it,” without losing anything original.
I’m all for sex in novels, and on novels. I’m being prudent here, not prudish. If I wanted to get an erection on the bus ride to work, I’d bring my PSP and a 1 gig memory card loaded with eroticism of a more visual nature.
A collection of witty and eccentric lonely hearts ads from the London Review of Books have been brought together for a new book.
It features some of the most brilliant and often absurd ads from what’s been billed as the world’s funniest - and most erudite - lonely-hearts column.
Here’s a selection of the funniest:
‘I’ve divorced better men than you. And worn more expensive shoes than these. So don’t think placing this ad is the biggest comedown I’ve ever had to make. Sensitive F, 34.’
‘List your ten favourite albums… I just want to know if there’s anything worth keeping when we finally break up. Practical, forward thinking man, 35.’
‘Employed in publishing? Me too. Stay the hell away. Man on the inside seeks woman on the outside who likes milling around hospitals guessing the illnesses of out-patients. 30-35. Leeds.’
Interesting project going on over at Wired. In their words:
“We’ll be brief: Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words (”For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”) and is said to have called it his best work. So we asked sci-fi, fantasy, and horror writers from the realms of books, TV, movies, and games to take a shot themselves.”
A couple of the good ones:
“Computer, did we bring batteries? Computer?”
- Eileen Gunn“Longed for him. Got him. Shit.”
- Margaret Atwood
I can always tell when an author has no idea how to write a female character. The story will always have an expository paragraph that goes something like this:
Then he saw her walk in the bar door. Her blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, bouncing slightly with every step. Her hips swayed back and forth under a vinyl miniskirt. He wondered what type of underwear she wore–if she wore underwear at all. Her fleshy orbs threatened to escape the too-small halter top. He estimated them at a D-cup, and one seemed slightly off-level with the other, but he wouldn’t be sure until he broke out the Craftsman laser level–and maybe the table saw if he was feeling frisky.
What’s wrong with that block of reprehensible exposition? First off, Craftsman doesn’t even manufacture a laser level. Secondly, nothing in that paragraph is worth reading. The author could have simply said, “He was a normal heterosexual male in a bar,” and we could extrapolate every cliche possibility from there (if you extrapolated a priest/rabbi joke there, give yourself a hand).
Does this woman have a personality? Is she flirting with the patrons, or is she strictly there to drink? Does she slip off her wedding ring as she sits down in a group of guys? Does she have a penis? These are the questions you must ask.
In short, quit writing cardboard characters, even if they are busty blondes.
Best exchange ever:
“If you really loved me, you would prove it by marrying me.”
“And get the state to sanction our love? It would prove nothing.”