Diarhea Ramblings avec Marciel

Monday April 2nd 2007 8:00pm

I think about stealing great sentences from my favorite books and patchworking them together. Then taking a creative writing class and putting those sentences into a story of my own and turning them into my instructor. Would she notice? Of course I'd throw in some of my own mediocre thoughts and sentences to make it believable. I wouldn't directly quote famous authors. I think she would notice if I started out my personal essay with "They were the best of times, they were the worst of times". I would stick with more obscure writers. I would use sentences that sound familiar and natural. Like I could have written them. Like I wanted to write them. Like I was meant to write them. Like you could have, too.

Maybe I would write about that one summer late afternoon with my mom. When we went to a roadside stand and bought corn and peaches. We went home and sat with our legs dangling over the edge of the open backdoor to our trailer. The backdoor we didn't use because it had no steps. I am so bad with description but just imagine eating the best tasting peach you ever had. Just imagine sitting next to your mother, both of your legs dangling out the backdoor with no stairwell. Imagine eating your perfect tasting peach on a perfect summer early evening. Then imagine seeing a rainbow that was meant just for you and your mom. There really was a rainbow that day. Imagine looking at your mother. Your beautiful mother with her perfect delicate lady-like hands holding the best tasting peach she will ever eat. She looks at you and you both know this is as good as it will ever get. And you want to eat another peach and then another. Because years from now, when you are all grown, your mother will say " 'Member that time when we had those peaches and sat out in the backdoor of the trailer?" And you'll say "Yeah, those were the best." And you remember eating them whole, leaving only the hard, brain-like pit behind.