Archive | April, 2014

James McCoy reading Orpheus

30 Apr


The Talent of The Room

30 Apr

The Talent of The Room

This is a really interesting/tough aspect about being a writer. I think he’s more talking about literary writing. It gives me a writer-esque feeling. It might worth looking into it.

Sweet Sandwich

30 Apr

Hometown Taste Prompt:

Peeling the wrapper away from the warm spongy cupcake, I cross my fingers and inhale a sweet, frosting-laced breath. Please let this be it. The kitchen is strewn with batter; powdered sugar clouds the air and comes to rest on the faucet and the formerly clean drying dishes. There’s a splotch of buttercream on my nose. The moment to truth. I bite into the soft yellow cupcake, through the frosting and the filling. Mmmm. That’s good. Delicious? Certainly. Prize-winning? Possibly. But right? The truth is, no cupcake is ever going to taste like this place. My hometown tastes like the metallic flavor of sand in your mouth, like the salty crispness of ocean water or cool, mercy gulps of the pond. It tastes like ice cream on a Saturday afternoon, and sandwiches on a Sunday morning. It tastes like stale movie popcorn, and laughter and pancakes. Like the smell of fallen leaves and apple cider and gingerbread cookies drizzled with white icing and arranged on the Christmas plate. I suppose it tastes like lobster too, like clams and shrimp and seafood, but all I taste there is butter. It does definitely taste like fish and chips and tartar sauce and cole slaw. It tastes like all of my mom’s best dishes and my Nana’s holiday dinners. My hometown is called Sandwich Massachusetts, and I promise you, it’s delicious.

Taste of My Hometown: Taipei

30 Apr

My hometown tastes like tap water. Clear, clean, sanitized, yet industrialization makes you wonder: is that really drinkable? When you drink it, the metal-like texture rubbed your tongue like eating a nickel, only that the nickel is broken down into million pieces and merge with your taste buds. Yet you survive on it. When your vending machine nearby is broken down, or you simply don’t want to waste money on bottled water or leisure of high quality, you drink it. Despite its urbanized touch which makes you feel like licking a shovel, you boil it and add a tea bag or milk powder to add some flavor into what’s originally dull and unoriginal and makes it…kinda weird. That’s my city. Plain, simple, yet something weird is always going on. You feel bored inside, so you salvage the flavor of life with some Swiss Miss with marshmallow. And you’ll have stomach ache tomorrow morning. And you keep on drinking it.

Sunday OWL Prompt

19 Apr

OMG guys, Open Writing Lounge spells out OWL. Things just got real Harry Potter-y real fast.

(Roll your eyes at me, and continue.)


Think about your hometown. Where do you identify as your home? Think about the sounds, the scenery, etc. What makes it unique? What makes you love it? What makes you proud to say “I’m from _____”?  Think about the first things you describe about it to other people, the things out-of-towners identify, and the things that are only yours.

Now set a timer for 15ish minutes. . .

And write about what your hometown tastes like. That’s right, tastes like.

Remember what the Bos said. Try not to get in your own way. It does’t have to be perfect, it just has to be on paper (or on pixel). I think we’ll be doing some more exercises to work on that, but try writing with a “no delete” rule for a paragraph or so, and see how it goes. Or try having to be writing something at all times, even if all you can do is type “xxxxxxxxabcdefgthisisstupidwhyoneartharewedoingthis.”

Hometowns. Nom nom.


As always, if this seems like the stupidest thing in the world to you, pirate rules.