450-second story

There was a panel on Saturday, described thusly in the program: "Writers are given a story element, then must write a short story in fifteen minutes based on that story element." I guess it says something good about my self-image that I immediately interpreted it to be an audience participation workshop sort of panel ("Hey, I'm a writer!"), and with cold sweats a-building on the back of my neck I decided to attend. It would be good for me, I thought; I'm a methodical meticulous tortuous word-chooser (it's taken me seventeen hours to write this post, for example), and forcing myself to write on my feet could only be a positive exercise.

In the event, of course, it turned out to be a challenge for the panelists. That was fine — the panel was a hoot, and I got to hear a great monkey-poo-flinging story. But I had a notebook and pencils with me, and halfway through the fifteen-minute period I realized there was nothing stopping me from writing my own short-short. The surprise topics were "sports" and "factory," which didn't exactly Titillate the Muse...but therein lies the challenge, right? This is what I have in my notebook:

The sugar rose in a glittering cone, scalloped where little falls of crystals had taken bites out of the sides. It bulked large in the dimmed light — taller than Simon's head, certainly, though he thought he could touch the top if he stretched.

He didn't.

Simon stared at the pile of sugar, and the machines, cold and perfectly quiescent, that had — must have — poured the sugar onto the factory floor. The conveyor belts were silent and clean — much cleaner than they were after a day of operation.

Something caught Simon's eye. Stepping closer, he saw tiny, glittering paths snaking from the summit to the floor. Something was projecting from the sugar beside one — something tiny, and black, like a hairpin.

It was a ski pole, no longer than his little finger.

Simon frowned, and shrugged, and went to get his biggest dust pan.

It was really hard not to edit as I typed! ( A little analysis under the cut. )

Anyway, yonder story isn't going to win any awards, but I think it was a valuable exercise. I worried as I wrote much less than I usually do; it's liberating to know you just need to write something.

(Posting it here is also a valuable exercise.)

Praise the Titanic

My Cinematic Titanic DVD arrived in the mail yesterday, in a plain white sleeve. I watched it tonight, and I'm happy to report: the MSTies still deliver the funny. Brain of Blood / The Oozing Skull is almost indistinguishable from the riffing portion of a solid fourth-season MST3K episode, and it made me laugh loudly enough to annoy my fiancée. I'm all a-twitter — my favorite show of all time is, if not back from the dead, at least reincarnated in the body of an Aztec robot!

It lacks bots and mad scientists, and the interstitial sketches are reduced to brief pauses in the film that are still filmed in silhouette — any of the five principals (Joel, Trace, J. Elvis, Frank, and Mary Jo), it seems, can stop the movie with an "I have something to say!" or some such, and do a little tapdance. Alas, so far those bits are the weakest elements. I can see interesting things happening with the format, but right now they seem to still be stretching their legs, and only one made me guffaw; the pauses aren't yet enough to replace the heartwarming rascalry of the bots' sketches.

Happily, the riffing, the meat and whipped potatoes of the Cinematic Titanic TV dinner, is spot-on. My first belly-laugh came during the opening credits, and they kept taking me by surprise for the next eighty minutes. I had to pause to catch my breath during the second "failed car-starting" scene.

Frank (formerly TV's) makes a great addition to the riffing — it makes me wish he'd been in the theater more, back in the day. I miss the grounded, jovial solidity of Kevin Murphy/Servo, but Frank really seizes the spotlight in a grand manner. Mary Jo makes me realize how useful it is to have a female voice available when you need one; it's unexpected, which helps bring the funny. Also unexpected: references to events of the last ten years! It's so odd to hear Joel mention blogging as part of a quip.

The site is cinematictitanic.com, and the DVD is available for about $16 from EZTakes in central MA. (Great service, those guys.) There are eleven more movies already licensed (all funded out of Joel's pocket) — I am eagerly awaiting the next, in part because I can't wait until they really start working the new format.