Contests
ToBS R1: “everybody has a story” vs. “show don’t tell”
[Matchup #9 in Tournament of Bookshit]
“Everybody has a story”
But I don’t like the story of a woman unsatisfied with her marriage, her greying hair still shoulder length from the 60s, taking a creative writing class at the community college, getting all nervous in her Hyundai parked outside under a leafless tree, going over in pen, again, the final revisions of her 3000-word story: the one about a woman her age, of average median household income, whose husband is also a strong but silent type reoccurring satellite figure in her empty life; who, like the amateur in jean overalls now crying in her Korean-made car, also drinks gin in her pajamas at night while playing solitaire, in an unnamed though evocatively New England-y town, whose racial demographic is similar to hers, except in the story the friendly mail man who dies of cancer because something needs to fucking happen is African-American, which her instructor (a man with both a novel and pony-tail “out”) told her she should include before she submits it to Glimmer Train, because those ladies are into black guys probably.
vs.
“Show don’t tell”
The undeclared student who took Creative Writing as an elective sensed some Jägermeister in the freezer, and quietly walked over to it. As the dense mist cleared, he saw the dark green bottle, and smiled. “I am a douchebag,” he thought. He felt a wavy sensation at his shins, his girlfriend’s cat. He leaned down and pet the cat, going over its back three times. He walked over to his laptop and opened a document titled “what we talk abt when we talk abt absolutely nothing.doc,” which was due in class after he had his pop tarts. They smelled like cherry and sugar getting warm in the toaster. He felt the smoldering wisps of pop tart entering his mildly flaring nostrils. “What the fuck are doing here?” his girlfriend asked, carrying a bag of cat litter. “Do you want me to help you with that?” he asked. “Did you not get the restraining order?” she said, tears as translucent mice tails running down her cheeks. As the house burned down, the undeclared student who took Creative Writing as an elective decided that he would major in Economics.
– – –
WINNER: Jimmy Fallon; Glimmer Train; M. Night Shyamalan’s financial consultant
[ED.: I have chosen to interpret Jimmy’s nonstraightforward answer for WINNER as “everybody has a story”]
Tags: hvundai, jagermeister, show don't tell
jimmy aren’t you taking this seriously?
I’ve never seen anything more serious than this.
Everybody has a story is the worst. Most people don’t even have a tweet!
bobby aren’t you taking this seriously?
this is magnificent. winner = Jimmy Chen
I am having a heart attack.
(a man with both a novel and pony-tail “out”) –maybe the best () since (picnic, lightning)
the first one seems more real, and sad. the “show” seems pulpy.
seems like a drummer in a box in an essay by Dennis Cooper via a “what” in rhythm repeating rapper circa 2005 Dave Chapelle parody. “What! What! What! Uh!” I did skeet skeet skeet though. all that matters.
“Morgan Freeman will play the postman in the movie, if my story ever gets optioned,” she tells her husband/satellite, who is at the moment orbiting the television trying in vein to watch the Patriots-Colts Monday night match-up.
“I am a douchebag”
vs.
“i am…. not good”
a drinking economics game by erik stinson and adam humphreys
DAMN THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING THAT JIMMY CHEN IS A JUDGE IN THIS CONTEST. HE IS A BLACK HOLE NEBULA COLLAPSING INTO A HUNDRED STARS COLLAPSED INTO A NOVELTY TACO BELL CUP. IT IS TOO LATE TO INVERT ZZZZIPP’S BRACKET ACCORDING TO THIS NEW MATRIX
(ZZZZZIPP SHOULD HAVE KNOWN)
The revolving spouse will open a vain with the business end of his coathanger antenna when he discovers that it’s the Bargers-Gags this week and that he missed every glorious play of that crucial Dolts-Patsies battle royale.
I like Jimmy Fallon pretty well
I’m done. Picked show don’t tell for the winner.
He’s a sprightly fellow
he’s taking it srsly, not seriously
“Ah, I see which way the weathervayne points,” she said…
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