On the Sabbath: The MDB Writers Workshop

[Anonymous]

(To the mods: I'm posting this in Terrestrial because I think it has enough Mormon content and interest, but if you feel it should be bumped down to some other kingdom, I understand)

Last night Mr. Stakhanovite suggested a group writing project. Initially, he proposed a parody of the now infamous work by "SeattleSmutWriter." However, the story soon took on a life of its own, allowing each author to not only parody standard tropes of bad writing (floods of adjectives and the kind of banal repetitions like "wet water" that are actually a much mocked stylistic habit of L. Ron Hubbard's fiction), but to also satirize the spartan stylistics of Hemingway while inserting jokes about Mormon and Old Testament scripture.

This morning I made a few light editorial changes to the narrative as it developed in thread (you can see my rationale explained here). I left the author's names next to their contributions so as not to steal anyone's "copyrighted" work.

Thanks to everyone who participated! It was lots of fun and we should do this again, either writing a sequel, or perhaps another story altogether. And you know, even though this was for entertainment purposes only, you really can learn a few things about writing from such exercises. That's why I pointed out to SGW, in his thread "I'm sorry it had to go so far" that it was too bad he "didn't pm me or others here, because there are a number of academics, writers and teachers of writing on this board who would have been all too happy to share resources with you. You could have turned your initial embarrassment into a learning experience. A learning experience we all could have benefited from."

Well he may be missing out, but I think the rest of us should use this opportunity to not only have fun but learn!

So, without further ado, the first fruits of the MDB Writer's Workshop: On the Sabbath
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On The Sabbath

Jayme languidly rose from her margarine colored bed, and delicately tipped toed down stairs to fetch her morning coffee. (stak)

She tripped down the stairs, two at a time on her deliciously arched, small feet, each toe of which was painted an iridescent ruby red. (blixa)

As she traipsed across the maple-and-oak flooring, her delicate nearly semitic nose apprehended the merest whiff of the delicious yet pungent aroma of the arabica beans she had so lovingly selected. (runtu)

Her sea blue oculars swept along the granite counter tops, as a slender and well manicured finger tapped lightly on the carved and sturdy surface looking for signs of earlier activity. (stak)

The flashback that followed was irrepressible: she could SO beat Jill in gym class if she could just have those years back again. (honorentheos)

But that didn't matter now because Jill was married to some unemployed ne'er-do-well while, she, Jayme had bagged the biggest stud in the office, oh how it thrilled her from her tiny toes to the top of her slender build to think of him...and...last night. (blixa)

She gasped almost involuntarily, her nostrils flaring and her lightly covered breasts heaving ever so slightly as she rehearsed in her mind the dizzying array of sights, smells, tastes, and emotions of the night before when he had firmly yet gently kissed her, his mustache searing the kiss into her skin. (runtu)

Lehi had always excited her, despite his lack of endowment, he moved with such a steady and purposeful grace, clean shaven with his midnight locks always perfectly styled. (stak)

But, although he had always been clean shaven, since Lehi had grown that moustache it seemed to unleash something in him, almost as if it had transferred the prowess of the Biblical Samson into his loins. (blixa)

"Sleep well?" he asked, his sturdy hands gently caressing the Royal Doulton china with the hand-painted periwinkle, his assertive nose framed by his prominent, chiseled cheekbones as he seductively sent his warm, fragrant breath into the cup, dispersing the tiny billows of aromatic steam. (runtu)

The masculine tones reverberated across her mind, her arousal and pleasure made sure from his Roman features, she was barely able to push out a, “ Good morning ” before demurely fetching herself some Arabian bean of her own. (stak)

Her hair cascaded down her back like a blond, flowy waterfall, covering her hourglass figure just perfectly. Her measurements were 36-26-36, which he understood was Nature's way of communicating the intent of evolution and making her desirable to the male eye. (dr. scratch)

She busied herself at the counter, arranging delicate china and cutlery, then opening the Northland 72″ side-by-side custom refrigerator a crack, while glancing seductively through her golden locks, a girlish glint in her eye as she queried, "Bacon darling? or did you get enough meat last night?" (blixa)

Her nearly Semitic nose twitched, she could smell him from across the room--his musky, dusky, husky masculinity assailing her delicately powdered nostrils. (morely)

“Bacon please” he retorted, before heaving a sigh from his powerful chest and offering another comment as glanced at the morning’s headlines, “ The liberals are at it again” with a hint of righteous poison in his firm and confident tone. (stak)

As much as he liked bacon, he wished she would cook sausage, especially Jimmy Dean's sausage, which had a flavor of maple syrup and sage. (dr. scratch)

But it didn't matter, Lehi reflected, Jayme would soon master his little likes, his little foibles, his little ways. (blixa)

She sighed, remembering all the little things he was endowed with, and how he seemed to make the most of them, thrilling her entire being with his manliness, taking her to Olympian heights of bliss mingled with the gentle tears of true soul-sharing companionship. (runtu)

That was when she realized, she had no bacon. (morely)

"Don't worry, darling. I'll fetch some bacon, and perhaps some sausage, from the store." His voice was deep and husky, like a sexy Darth Vadar's. He went over and put his hand on her hips and kissed her hard and deep, but tenderly. She had to stand on her tippy toes to reach him.

Lehi went outside and paused in the wet rain to light a cigarette with his silver Zippo. He exhaled smoke as the wet, wet rain ran in wet, damp rivulets down over his chest and hair, and he set out for the store. It was only a few blocks away and the walk gave him time to think about Jayme and their blossoming love. His arm muscles didn't quite bulge but they were just enough to let anyone know that he was a man. (dr. scratch)

"What a man," Jayme reflected, "how on earth am I lucky enough to be equally yoked with such an Olympian partner?" She resolved to do an extra set of Pilates that very afternoon. (blixa)

Thinking back, Jayme wondered why Lehi had seemed so tall--she remembered him as short and thick. (morely)

That memory brought a naughty giggle to her naturally rosy colored cherubic lips. (blixa)

Her nearly Semitic nose twitched again. (morely)

She sneezed, a quaint, dainty noise like that a forest fairy might make when surprised at her bath in a delicate cowslip. (blixa)

As he perused the smoked meats aisle at the Safeway market, his glinting gray eyes were drawn to the garish yet subtle Farmer John hickory-smoked thick-sliced bacon, its yellow and red calling to him like the siren song of the ghost of an ancient porcine creature. (runtu)

With his bacon in hand, Lehi sauntered over to the checkout line, where old man Jones was waiting to ring up his purchase.
"Buying some bacon today eh, sonny?"
"I sure am, Mr. Jones."
"Boy that sounds good."
"Yeah I'm really hungry."
"I bet." There was a leering glint in his eye. "That young lady you've been with. She seems like a light cotton kind of gal." He gave a mischievous wink. (dr. scratch)

Sliding his Platinum MasterCard through the black, well-worn card reader sent his thoughts cascading back to the moment he had slid his rough-hewn fingers along her smooth, but somehow also well-worn inner thigh, a chuckle bubbling gently out of her porcelain throat. (runtu)

When he arrived home, he set the bacon on the counter and observed that Jayme had changed outfits in his absence. (dr. scratch)

"I, I, didn't expect you back so quickly!" "Hush," intoned Lehi as he pressed a full-figured finger to her lips and maneuvered her slender frame over to the antique wooden kitchen table. (blixa)

The light cotton draped over her slight, yet voluptuous curves, and she looked at him with doe-like eyes, which seemed so inflamed with arousal that they reached out to him across the expanse between their anxious yet calm faces, melting his soul into puddles of wet precipitation. (runtu)

"First," Jayme whispered, "you must drop your lawsuit." (beastie)

"Ignore the legal lawsuit." Lehi whispered, "we'll discuss about that on the beach next week." (b23)

"But, don't you want me to cook your bacon first?" Jayme's trembling lips pouted. "Heh heh," Lehi growled like a mountain troll, "Oh, I want you to cook my bacon all right..." (blixa)

She tore open the package with her teeth and used her dainty fingers to extract a glistening slice from the rows of pink and white meat. She held it up daintily to her nearly semitic nose and sniffed. "Mmmmm, smoky," she said. (dr. scratch)

Her nearly Semitic nose twitched again. (morely)

Approving the first slice, she wrapped her slender fingers around the sharply creased shrink-wrapped package and eased the variegated folds of meat into the T-Fal skillet she had purchased with a rose-colored gift card from Williams-Sonoma, her breaths becoming short staccatos of anticipation. (runtu)

She'd never had bacon before. (morely)

"Did you know bacon is a natural aphrodisiac." Lehi inquired while asking. "Is this kosher?" Jayme mused playfully. (b23)

As the bacon began to pop and sizzle in the pan, Lehi experienced a shivver of concern that hot grease might pop and burn Jayme's pale pink alabaster skin. His mother had taught him when he was a boy that pants were a necessity when cooking bacon. (dr. scratch)

Her formerly semitic nose wrinkled at the scent. Lehi had promised to initiate her into a whole plethora of non-Kosher realms. She blushed when she remembered her Yiddishe momma and what she would think of such a union. "What have I raised? A shiksa?" (blixa)

"Is wine kosher with bacon?" Jayme inquired inquisitively. "If it's white." Lehi bantered, bothered by the buzzing bacon bits bathed by blissful grease. "Delightful." Jayme poured the wet wine. (b23)

When the bacon was done she took it out, placed it on the plate and carried it over to Lehi. She sat on his lap where she could feel his firm quadriceps bulging underneath her light cotton. "Here," he said, breaking off a piece of bacon and slipping it between her crimson, parted, quivering lips. "Now you're a gentile, baby." (dr. scratch)

Closing her darkly lashed, oval, yet obliquely round, eyes, she steeled her conscience against the onslaught of the forbidden flesh, its smoky scent invading her olfactory senses and sending her into paroxysms of guilt and desire, the shame gradually giving way to the crisp cured meat. (runtu)

"Oh my god," she said, her throat blanching crimson. "MMMM. It's so....salty." (dr. scratch)

"Did your nose just twitch?" Lehi asked directly. (b23)

"I didn't know bacon was so short," she murmured passionately with a passion so deep and wide that she had to gasp in breathless and passionate joy. (morely)

"Never mind, just wait ‘til you taste my sausage," Lehi grunted. "Washed down with glass of ice-cold milk." (blixa)

She tossed back her gold-tressed head and laughed--a spritely tintinnabulation of echoing lilts and joyous giggles. (dr. scratch)

But in her mind, Jayme was reeling. "Meat and milk? Together? What other Old Testament taboos would Lehi tempt her to break?" (blixa)

"Did you copyright this bacon recipe?" Jaymee purred, eager to push from her mind any unclean dietary restrictions she'd read in her uncle Bartleby's dusty religious tomes. "It's simply divine." (b23)

“That’s a man’s business” Lehi replied curtly. He knew she craved the submissive role, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her quiver in sweet release to his priesthood authority, melting like dark chocolate under the hot solar sun. (stak)

A plethora of images continued to cascade through her mind: crimson lobster, rosy hued honey cured ham, and her pouty cherubic mouth parted in confusion. "Never mind, my sweet," said Lehi as he pressed a firm, sausage-shaped finger to her taught and quivering lips. "These were the foods of our ancestors." His brow furrowed, the lines in his forehead drawn together like hastily drawn parabolas. "You see," he went on, "We are both descended from the same race of peoples. There names were..." A bead of sweat had formed at his temple and now it fell, in slow motion, motes of light collecting kaleidoscopically within its crystal clear rainbow of perfection before it splashed on Jayme's downy peach-fuzzed thigh. "...Nephites and Lamanites." (dr. scratch)

Sweeping Jayme's alabaster behind with his eyes, Lehi reflected on another Lehi's journey into the wilderness. "It will not be long until I, too, reach the land of Bountiful and pitch my tent," he surmised. (blixa)

"In the land of milky honey," he thought with his brain. (morely)

Lehi was perspiring more profusely now; Jayme could see he was filled with apprehension which burned within him like smoldering charcoal. "I have to know," he said stammeringly. "Have you ever heard the expression..." he paused to clear his throat and swallow spit. "The expression... ‘Tight like unto a dish'?" (dr. scratch)

"Tight like unto a dish?" she said. The words caught in her throat as if she'd swallowed a brambly nettle. "No," she was panting. "Wha--what does that mean?" "I can't tell you," said Lehi. "I can only show you. Not because it's a secret." He ran his tongue over the gentle corrugations in his lips. "It's because it's sacred." (dr. scratch)

"I'm scared. What if this gets out on the Internet?" Jaymee said. "Is your Facebook page on private? Do you have a blog? Is it secret? Is it safe?" Lehi worried nervously. "Yes. I'm not stupid." Jaymee quipped, taking Lehi's worn right palm in her hand. "No you aren't. That's why I'm so in love with you." Lehi said. (b32)

But, these questions were just a ruse. A way of buying time. Jayme's mind raced like horse running down the last stretch of the Belmont Stakes. What did Lehi mean? Was he questioning her virginity? He knew she had had other "boyfriends," but, was there something special that Returned Missionaries required of their partners? Rapidly she scanned her memory's Rolodex, could she recall the woman her mother had told her of? The woman with the "speciality?" The "pre-marital specialty?" (blixa)

Throwing caution to the wind, Lehi watched in fascination at the G-string that passed through the crevice of her bottom like a cruise-liner along the equator. He could almost see dolphins swimming through the milkiness of her skin. "Oh, Jayme!" They were like randy rabbits, not the kind Beatrix Potter wrote about but the other kind, the ones that shagged all day and used carrots in completely new and novel ways. Lehi felt the pressure building in his less than adequate member like oil underneath the Arabian Peninsula, aching to get out and power cars. (everybody wang chung)

"Let me see it." Jayme commanded authoritatively. She slowly unbuckled the buckled buckle-style belt. She caught a glimpse of her fleeting reflection in his mirror-like belt buckle as Lehi unsheathed his iron sword of wood edged with obsidian colored hair. "Is five enough?" Lehi boasted. "I'm not sure. I hope so." Jayme purred catlike. (b23)

Jayme took a deep breath. The collective history of her people, from their first gatherings in the desert, through all their modern tribulations, coursed through her veins. "I hope I'm not going to Sheol for this," she muttered. (blixa)

"Just imagine that you're riding on a tapir," Lehi told her. (dr. scratch)

She gazed longingly at his puckered but not quite sagging physique, the muscles slightly the worse for lack of use, but "serviceable" nonetheless, his flagging spirits now rising to greet her from thickets of desire. (runtu)

Suddenly, she feared a great fear fearfully, contemplating the possibilities of an encounter with Sheol, whereupon she resolved to pour a ritual libation of bacon flavored milk to appease the spirits following her festive fornication. (aristotle smith)

"I'm a classical Old World historian. Mind if I think of a chariot driven by horses?" Jayme interjected. "I ejaculated" Lehi sheepishly said. (b23)

"And it landed on my mustache." Thus his ritual impurity was advertised to all and sundry. (aristotle smith)

He laughed uncomfortably and apologized, but it was clear to both of them that they would have to converse shortly about the raising up of seed. (dr. scratch)

"I'm sorry it had to go so far." (runtu)

[_MsJack]

A masterpiece.

/applause

[_Blixa]

I hope you can contribute next time, Jack, and I also hope it becomes a regular feature. It was a lot of fun and the possibilities of working in more scriptural references are endless. In fact, one challenge might be to rewrite a particular Old Testament book in this style. Hmmmmm.....

(I hope I don't need to point this out to you Jack, but just for over all clarity, such parody is impossible without deep understanding and appreciation of the original texts. Jonathan Goldstein's Ladies and Gentleman, The Bible! is one such example.)

[_Blixa]

Let me also take this time to plug a very entertaining book about struggling amateur writers, Jincy Willett's The Writing Class. Some of the astonishingly bad prose generated by the novel's characters is highly reminiscent of that of our ghostly friend. But, mirabile dictu! these student writers not only better their prose a bit, they also learn to forge bonds of human community. And it's also a murder mystery.

Jincy's website itself is a lot of fun. I recommend it to anyone with an interest in writing because she hosts such a valuable collection of links, especially those under the heading, "You Might Learn Something."

[_Runtu]

I haven't had that much fun in a long time. What does that say about me?

[_Bond James Bond]

True greatness. I"m ready for the sequel. I'm honored to be on the same page/screen as these excellent writers.

[_MrStakhanovite]

Diggity bump!

[_Blixa]

I lost interest after the dissolution of the art/writing forum. The Off Topic forum is usually such a snakepit of loonies I avoid it as often as possible...