Here’s your LAST PROMPT for the month: Choose an object next to your computer. Write about the symbolic nature of this object. (Don’t roll your eyes at me. Anything can be a symbol of anything. It’s the writer’s job to present a connection between symbol and meaning, which is a little ironic, considering language is entirely symbolic anyway. ANYWAY. Write about the dadgum stapler already.)
Come back Monday and we’ll talk about how we did. Also coming up: CHARLES DICKENS!!! and the last part of my review of The Casual Vacancy.
Excerpt from my writing:
Jeremiah is exactly the kind of seminary geek no one else can stand. But since I’m certifiably crazy, I don’t have many options in the friend department. The visions just come on me, you know, just out of nowhere, so I tend to avoid most people. For one thing, I don’t want to know all about everyone’s business. I don’t want any of this. For another, it weirds people out when I suddenly go all catatonic for a moment. “Seizures,” says the neurologist. “Schizophrenia?” wonders my therapist. “A little break,” says my mom. Yeah, a little break from reality. A little break from sanity. A little break from my own life, except that these visions are what I need a break from. “A gift,” says Jeremiah. “I looked it up. You’re a seer.” I stop him before he starts quoting chapter and verse, or general conference talks. My grandmother called it a gift, too. So does my dad. But none of them have to live with it, and “gift” sounds like just another four-letter word to me. Maybe they’re all right. All I know is, it makes high school a real pain in the butt.