To celebrate the event, I have a couple first edition, signed, hardback copies of Janeology to give away to my most creative friends.
All you have to do to prove your creativity is write a ten word story about a dysfunctional family. (See, Jane’s family is pretty dysfunctional so, well, you get the idea.) It can’t be under ten words. It must be precisely ten. The more humorous and bizarre, the better. No profanity, please. If your gem absolutely, positively must include an expletive, insert the word “muffin.” Really. It will work. Trust me.
Ex: “I’ve had it with these mother-muffin snakes on this mother-muffin plane!”
Hey, you’ve got to have rules or we’d all be…dysfunctional. Okay, more dysfunctional.
Once you’ve written your story, post it as a reply to this blog. And then tell all your friends to come on over here and give it a try!
I’ll announce the winners on May 31, 2008 and post the stories on my blogs. And if you don’t feel that creative and just want to read Jane’s dysfunctional family story you could always order it here.
Okay. Proceed.
69 comments:
Our family's ugliest secret was that we communicated on MySpace.
We weren't so much very Freudian as we were Seinfeldian.
Secrets, lies, suicide, murder, amnesia, prison stories--equals 'Whale Song'.
~Cheryl Kaye Tardif,
bestselling author
If they'd known about the book, they might have behaved.
We didn't have much, then the dog ate it.
Parents rented my room on the first day of kindergarten.
She said her brother kissed her palm and her pocket.
I know I just left a comment but couldn't resist one more:
In my house, "Hell's Kitchen" wasn't just a TV show.
Dad mad, tipped fridge, us kids danced in the food.
Mom's multiple brain surgeries sure make our family life distinctive.
My parents have no idea how much damage they inflicted.
I'm not participating in the contest because I already have a copy.
I'll often read a book despite a review unless the review is utterly scathing. Usually it depends on my knowledge of the reviewer's sensibilities compared to my own. Therefore, I have to read books a reviewer likes, doesn't like, and neither likes nor dislikes before I know how to approach their reviews.
Liviania,
I feel the same way, but I like how you worded it - that you must read the book yourself to know how to approach the review. Well said! There are as many styles of writing a there are writers.
Karen
Mom believed that Quaaludes and Ambien were the best babysitters.
The price of brilliance: murderous, suicidal, alcoholic – that’s my sister!
A garbage bag of water became our pool during summers.
At our house, Christmas just wasn't Christmas unless somebody cried.
Mom would say, "time for school children of the corn".
Dad said the happy people were doing things all wrong.
My family: Running with Scissors meets Lord of the Flies
Stepfather was a sociopath, mom was scared, daughter was toast.
Dad tokes it up while asthmatic daughter gasps for air.
Mother loves me, she loves me not. Mother loves me?
Mom would use the shotgun as a bell
for dinnertime
Family comes first, but only during commercials; otherwise...keep quiet!
Sexually abused; mentally abused; sometimes wished that I was adopted.
Avoiding her daughter's stare, she watered the plants with vodka.
"Mom! Dad! Quit diddling Baby Jane! It's my turn, again!"
Mother wept and Mary spilled shepherd secret while Jesus laughed.
I've nothing left. My family took it away from me.
Silliness I wasn't even going to write something - just post a comment and that is what came out. Oh well. I don't really think it is a story but more like a blurb leading to something more.
Good luck with your book and your tour. E :)
----------
Elysabeth Eldering
http://elysabethsstories.blogspot.com
http://jgdsseries.blogspot.com
Coming soon the Junior Geography Detective Squad series - a 50-state geography mystery series where we follow four friends on their game playing trek across the United States, learning something new about the 50 states.
www.junior-geography-detective-squad.weebly.com
www.elysabetheldering.weebly.com
come join my newsletter to learn more about the state stories - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jgdsseries/
Schizophrenia isn't just a word in the best family circle.
One day her older brother accidentally became her child’s father.
It would've been fine, if he wasn't the devil incarnate.
Visiting hour ended when Greg pinched his new mother's ass.
My sister gots Daddy's baby and I gots creative.
Having family on both coasts means I'm always choosing sides.
Even Hallmark don't sell cards saying Happy Birthday Mum/Sister!
Jesus Christ, get in the car. It's those people AGAIN.
"Mom? Drunk. Dad? Gone. Susie? Pregnant. Me? Fine! And you?"
Her husband, her son and the baby - roommates. Deadbeat roommates.
Average Family: two point five children. In mine, that's literal!
Definitely want to give this a whirl so here is my entry:
Drunk and asleep at the wheel, death a familial deal.
Penelope Anne
Dad brings girlfriend to dinner; first time Mom throws chairs.
Momma always had "private time" weeknights after Pat Sajack.
Stay close-indifference, Rage-Fear, Hate/Love, Distance-Peace
Once, Ann-Marie brought him home. Once was quite terrible enough.
Mom drinks, Dad's schizo, Julie's klepto and steals everyone's pills.
Thought police stealing reality because parents say it didn't happen.
Every day is mind numbingly the same but crazily different.
epatterson22@yahoo.com
love was cannon fodder with my heart shot to pieces.
Our childhood was captured in mugshots hanging on the wall.
I called it coming home to the house of despair.
Dee
dther068@yahoo.ca
Instead of a college fund, there is a therapy fund.
Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a subpoena and a spliff.
I divorced my mama so I could marry my sister
We all knew where he really got the bail money.
Mom's in prison, but I was still well-raised. Thanks, Dog!
O.K., so I'm obsessed. Choose one of my entries to count.
"And for dope money, Mother allowed Uncle Ted to watch."
"After she passed out, Michael burned Mother's prosthetic leg."
"Father decked Aunt Millie in the Women's Choice parking garage."
"Daddy's Derringer accompanied my third-grade musical, 'Hello, Dolly.'"
"Father was a drag in more ways than one."
1) It's not a real holiday without tears or fist fights.
2) Drunk sister gets mean: I'm a whoops and paternity unclear.
3) Two out of twelve cousins agree: marriage first, then baby.
4) Three generations, three murderers. I'm not chancing it: tubes tied.
This is fun!
Even after downing 11 cups of coffee, Mom barely moved.
Schizophrenia, codependence, depression, despair, creativity, insomnia, determination and growing strength.
Dad left half the chicken for the six of us.
At 6 he complimented me on my Martini making skills.
Wow! All these entries are impressive. Shall I string them together to make one long, dysfunctional story? Running With Pencils?
kh
RUNNING WITH PENCILS
Prologue:
If they'd known about the book, they might have behaved.
Chapter 1: Childhood
Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a subpoena and a spliff. Mom's in prison, but I was still well-raised. Thanks, Dog! Secrets, lies, suicide, murder, amnesia, prison stories--equals 'Whale Song'. Our childhood was captured in mugshots hanging on the wall.
At 6 he complimented me on my Martini making skills. Parents rented my room on the first day of kindergarten. Mom would say, "time for school children of the corn". Daddy's Derringer accompanied my third-grade musical, 'Hello, Dolly’. Mom would use the shotgun as a bell for dinnertime. A garbage bag of water became our pool during summers. Mom believed that Quaaludes and Ambien were the best babysitters. In my house, "Hell's Kitchen" wasn't just a TV show. Family comes first, but only during commercials; otherwise...keep quiet! Our family's ugliest secret was that we communicated on MySpace.
Instead of a college fund, there is a therapy fund. We weren't so much very Freudian as we were Seinfeldian. Sexually abused; mentally abused; sometimes wished that I was adopted.
Chapter 2: Parents
Thought police stealing reality because parents say it didn't happen. My parents have no idea how much damage they inflicted. love was cannon fodder with my heart shot to pieces. Stay close-indifference, Rage-Fear, Hate/Love, Distance-Peace. Schizophrenia, codependence, depression, despair, creativity, insomnia, determination and growing strength. Schizophrenia isn't just a word in the best family circle. Mom drinks, Dad's schizo, Julie's klepto and steals everyone's pills. Mom? Drunk. Dad? Gone. Susie? Pregnant. Me? Fine! And you?
Father was a drag in more ways than one. Father decked Aunt Millie in the Women's Choice parking garage. Dad brings girlfriend to dinner; first time Mom throws chairs. Dad said the happy people were doing things all wrong.
Mom's multiple brain surgeries sure make our family life distinctive. Mother loves me, she loves me not. Mother loves me? Momma always had "private time" weeknights after Pat Sajack. Even after downing 11 cups of coffee, Mom barely moved. Avoiding her daughter's stare, she watered the plants with vodka. Even Hallmark don't sell cards saying Happy Birthday Mum/Sister!
Stepfather was a sociopath, mom was scared, daughter was toast. Her husband, her son and the baby - roommates. Deadbeat roommates.
Chapter 3: Siblings
Average Family: two point five children. In mine, that's literal!
The price of brilliance: murderous, suicidal, alcoholic – that’s my sister! She said her brother kissed her palm and her pocket. It would've been fine, if he wasn't the devil incarnate. Once, Ann-Marie brought him home. Once was quite terrible enough.
One day her older brother accidentally became her child’s father. After she passed out, Michael burned Mother's prosthetic leg. “I divorced my mama so I could marry my sister“. Two out of twelve cousins agree: marriage first, then baby.
Visiting hour ended when Greg pinched his new mother's ass. We all knew where he really got the bail money.
Chapter 4: Visiting for the Holidays
I called it coming home to the house of despair.
At our house, Christmas just wasn't Christmas unless somebody cried. It's not a real holiday without tears or fist fights. Mother wept and Mary spilled shepherd secret while Jesus laughed. Drunk sister gets mean: I'm a whoops and paternity unclear. Dad tokes it up while asthmatic daughter gasps for air. "Mom! Dad! Quit diddling Baby Jane! It's my turn, again!" And for dope money, Mother allowed Uncle Ted to watch. Dad mad, tipped fridge, us kids danced in the food. Dad left half the chicken for the six of us. We didn't have much, then the dog ate it.
Having family on both coasts means I'm always choosing sides.
Chapter 5: The Aftermath
Every day is mind numbingly the same but crazily different.
I've nothing left. My family took it away from me. My family: Running with Scissors meets Lord of the Flies. Three generations, three murderers. I'm not chancing it: tubes tied.
Epilogue:
Jesus Christ, get in the car. It's those people AGAIN. Drunk and asleep at the wheel, death a familial deal.
Autism was the only present the Mayo family couldn't regift.
Pornographic thoughts tumbled inside Daddy's brain as he drove carpool.
My mother hid all her valuables in her wooden leg.
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