Date: Sat, 5 Sep 1998 20:02:21 EDT From: Colin R Onstad Subject: [WRITERS] EXERCISE and introduction Hello, All, My name is Colin, and I'm a newbie. ("Hi, Colin!") I've been lurking for the last couple of days, as I've never been on a 'list' before - I got here just in time for the MoonDance fire - and have decided to introduce myself anyway. I'm 60, retired, look like Santa C., and have been writing for about 5 years. That's not what it seems - I started with a Children's Inst. of Lit. course, which I liked, but found out I wasn't really cut out to write to/about children. Perhaps we had too many?? I've taken various and sundry courses, written about 80 short stories, garnered 165+ rejections (I stopped counting after the garage walls were papered,) have had one piece published, another accepted but the magazine died, and currently have an article out on requested spec at Family Camping magazine. I joined this list in the hope that it would help me improve my writing skills, my plotting skills, and my critiquing skills. This is my first submission to the list, and I do request a tough critique. One thing I have learned from all the courses, the writers group I belonged to, and the 165+ rejections, is not to be in love with my words. In fact, it seems that whenever I really, really like what I have written, it needs to be cleaned up and revised. So whale away at it (and I'll wail away in return, but to myself,) and let the fun begin. Thanks for allowing me to be part of your list. At the least, it looks like none of you are afraid of being perceived as outspoken. Exercise: What I did with on my summer vacation. First of all, you have to realize that we have been on vacation for the past 5 years. We live in a motorhome, and we workkamp for our site where ever we happen to be (this saves us having to purchase the site, which can be expensive when you're on Social inSecurity.) We left the job on the Sacramento, California, delta and headed towards the job in Texas, stopping off in Los Angeles to visit our middle children. One of them lives in West Hollywood, just off Santa Monica Blvd. Down the street from his house is an auto body shop, and growing out of the crack where the sidewalk meets the wall of the shop is a palm tree. This tree is about 3 feet tall now, and I have been watching it grow for the last five years. It has always been a pretty little tree, with healthy green leaves and a firm, moist trunk. Most of the people who pass by are gay, men and women, and most of them speak to the tree, or brush its fronds as they pass. One scrawny, bearded young man, always dressed in ragged jeans and a torn olive-drab shirt, waters it regularly. He has performed this task every other day for the past five years. This summer, when we visited our son, we noticed the tree was looking a little stressed, with some of its fronds missing. The ragged young man has been HIV positive for the whole time he has lived in West Hollywood, according to our son, and this year he took a turn for the worse. Therefore, people in the apartment block where my son lives have been taking turns watering the tree, and some of them are not as dependable as the ragged young man. This summer has also been an extraordinarily hot one in Los Angeles, and that extra heat has also stressed the tree. It had been surviving OK until a couple of weeks before we arrived, and then it was attacked. The Gay Pride Parade always attracts a huge crown, and this year was no exception. This year the parade was a relatively straight-forward one, with few of the outrageous costumes and acting-out of previous years. Primarily, it consisted of thousands of young (and not so young) men and women, walking hand in hand and displaying their pride in themselves and their lives. Some of the people who attend the Gay Pride Parade do so not to support the gays in their lives, but rather to see the outrageous costumes and the acting-out, and to heckle the marchers. Once in a while there is some gay-bashing involved as well, but the police are now present and that is much rarer than it used to be. Evidently the quietness of the parade, and the lack of anyone to make fun of irritated some of the parade watchers, and they took their anger out on the palm tree. Many - most, actually - of its fronds were pulled, twisted, cut, bent or broken by these ruffians. Our son tells us that people like that are considered tourists by those of West Hollywood, because they come from somewhere other than West Hollywood. How come they call it tourist season when you can't shoot one? _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]