Borders
All I know about the Borders—the grandmother, the father, mother, Ellie the oldest, Josh and Jack the twins, and Evelyn, the baby—is that one after another they shared their bathwater.
¿
Hey, Dad. So did you read the piece I sent you?¿
Gotcha. Okay, Mom. Why do you think I titled it "Borders"?¿
Aunt Lillian. You were an English teacher. How would you describe this sentence, the way its syntax supports its meaning? Or does it not support its meaning?¿
Uncle Harvey. You've always liked a good bath. When you read this story, then close your eyes, what do you see?¿
Hey, Chloe (she's ten). What do you think of this story?¿
If you have any great "family" moments, it would be great to hear them as comments on the post. Could be quite funny, a listing of them all.
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1) Why don't you write stories that people would like to read?
2) If you ever want to sell books, maybe you will have to stop writing what you want to write, and write stories people like.
From my mother:
1) Why do you have to use the bad words? You don't talk like that, do you? Why use bastards when you could use rascals?
2) You could write a romance if you tried. You used to read them all the time. Or a nice children's book.
]]>Mom:
...um hm...
Someone I dated for a few years:
"Er, thank you for sharing."
A co-worker about online flash ezines:
"Who knew there were so many wannabe writers!"
Wonder why I'm mostly a closet writer.
]]>"I showed this to my friend and she liked it."
and
"I don't think I'd ever watch a movie like that."
]]>"I take it that's a true story." —my father.
"I remember that one you wrote in high school. That was really fantastic." —my mother.
"You have a typo, or was that for effect?" —my brother
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