Saturday, November 8, 2014
Definitive Proof That Even Your Favorite Writers Once Sucked
Started from the bottom now we Gone Girl .
The following piece by Gillian Flynn is an excerpt from Drivel: Deliciously Bad Writing by Your Favorite Authors, "a collection of wordy, overwrought, insipid writing by America's most beloved authors."
The Hardest Game Of Literary "F#@K, Marry, Kill" You’ll Ever Play
As they say, all is fair in love and lust.
Harry Potter FMK: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger
Warner Bros.
"Out Of The Woods On A Snowy Evening"
I’mma let you finish, but Robert Frost had the best woods of all time.
BuzzFeed
by Robert Taylor Swifrost
Looking at it now, it all seems so simple.
We were lying on your couch, I remember.
You took a Polaroid of us
Then discovered (then discovered)
The rest of the world was black and white
But we were in screaming color.
And I remember thinking...
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Looking at it now, last December
We were built to fall apart, then fall back together.
Your necklace hanging from my neck,
The night we couldn't quite forget
When we decided (we decided)
To move the furniture so we could dance
Baby, like we stood a chance
Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying.
And I remember thinking...
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?
Twenty stitches in the hospital room.
When you started crying, baby, I did, too
But when the sun came up, I was looking at you.
And I remember thinking...
Are we out of the woods yet?
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
I walked out and said, "I'm setting you free,"
But the monsters turned out to be just trees.
And when the sun came up, you were looking at me
Oh! I remember thinking...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Are we out of the woods yet?
Are we out of the woods yet?
Are we out of the woods?
Are we in the clear yet?
Are we in the clear yet?
In the clear yet?
Good.
Friday, November 7, 2014
22 Things Every NaNoWriMo Writer Will Understand
Only 23 days to go!
If you started NaNoWriMo thinking that every day would look like this, somebody lied to you.
You're sticking to what you know so you can write 50,000 words of it.
You struggle to not be a perfectionist because a first draft is about letting go.
Disney / Via giphy.com
You find a single spot to write in and stick to it.
15 Relatable Patronuses J.K. Rowling Should Have Included In "Harry Potter"
Expecto Patronum!
1. Tina Belcher from Bob's Burgers
Submitted by Nikki Urse (Facebook).
Warner Bros. Studio/Loryn Brantz/BuzzFeed
2. Dancing Chandler Bing
Submitted by Anna Johanna Varadi (Facebook).
Warner Bros. Studio/Loryn Brantz/BuzzFeed
33 Books You Should Read Now, Based On Your Favourite Films
From Pulp Fiction to pulp fiction.
Daniel Dalton / BuzzFeed
Focus Features
Viking Adult
15 Slightly Awkward Voldemort Problems
When Nagini won’t stop talking.
When people only laugh at your jokes out of fear.
Warner Bros
When your nemesis's wand is made of the same stuff as YOUR wand.
Warner Bros
People not knowing what to call you.
Voldy? Voldo? Tom Riddle? He-who-must-not-be-named? The Dark Lord?
Warner Bros
Everyone being surprised every time you come back.
"Yes yes it's me, remember I did a spell so I would never die."
Warner Bros
Being A Writer On Screen Vs. Being A Writer In Reality
Oh don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here, typing away in my one-bedroom Upper East Side apartment, smoking cigs and wearing Louboutins.
On deadline on TV:
I am a word-producing machine. A higher power guides me to precisely my word count, with fifteen minutes to spare.
Netflix
On deadline in reality:
The more carbs you eat, the faster you write. It's just science.
Late-night writing on TV:
Ah, another night as a writer in the big city. Just sitting here in my haute couture shawl that matches the periwinkle walls of my rent-controlled apartment, typing truths upon this Macintosh computer.
HBO
Late-night writing in reality:
Except, minus the fruit bowl. Dude, where'd you get that fruit bowl?

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