Many thanks must go to my good chum R.S. Rook, for passing me a "Discover New Blogs" Liebster Award and a set of entertaining questions--plus a bang-up one-sentence summary of my site that was troubling in its accuracy.
Well, that's September down the drain. October, here I come--but first, let's take our monthly pause and look back on all the weird shit we searched in pursuit of being better writers. Personally, I think I've gained a lot of wisdom since August. How about you?
So today we're having the equivalent of a Class Movie Day here on Phantasmagorium. In the spirit of rest and relaxation--and extreme discomfort--I thought we'd watch "Possibly in Michigan," a ten-minute short film directed by Cecelia Condit.
Plenty of writers and readers probably already know what the magical realism genre is. But plenty of you also probably do not. Since I borrow from it stylistically and almost all of the time, I'll take the time to explain.
It's that time of month again, kids. What are your most interesting (or most suspect) searches for the sake of writing? Here are some of mine.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Sadie owned the most remarkable pair of green eyes Iván had ever itched to paint.
My love affair with power metal album covers continues.
The bushes overflowed with every shade of color, but in particular crimson. It was Shiori’s favorite color, and arrogant red flowers spilled over the blues, purples, and pinks. The other woman servants grumbled about it to each other every now and again--that many in the same soil, they shouldn’t grow like that.
Crushed between two pages bookmarking a section on home fertility remedies, Shiori found a head of dried hydrangeas. He plucked it out gingerly—the petals were veined and brittle as fly wings. They shuddered quietly in his grasp. Shiori's eyebrow ticked. He hated dead things.