I Write Too Much?

I realize my last post came off as very snobby. Sorry. I’m sitting in Seattle’s Best in Borders and writing again. Is it normal to update a blog all the freaking time? I keep having ideas in my head and I keep feeling like sharing them though no one is hardly reading this. Someone is. In fact…seventeen people today. Yay. I’m famous. 17. Wooot.

So I mentioned bad pop culture references in my last post. (Someone trying to allude to the Karate Kid by wrongfully quoting “Wax on, wax off” as “Wash on, wash off”.) A friend of mine in my writing class two semesters ago said something clever about pop culture references: always use ones that aren’t well known.

How’s this? It’s a short excerpt from my novel. The narrator is reflecting on a movie his girlfriend liked when he’s thinking of what to do with his brother. Can you guess what movie…

Sara had this movie she liked—it was about these two male prostitutes who drove around the Pacific Northwest on a busted motorcycle. They did drugs, slept around with an old German guy, and even ventured into Europe. One of them was a rich kid, set to inherit all this money when he turned twenty-one. He said he’d stop his antics then and make a huge turnaround.

My brother Drew is a rich kid and a borderline alcoholic. He and I drove to the Midwest in a dilapidating, ugly, yellow Dodge. Drew is set to go to the best college in the world when he turns eighteen, and he swears he’ll stop his drinking then. I got to make sure of that—he might end up in Idaho with a man named Hans for all I know.  I’m probably letting that movie pervert my judgment, but once you see it in film, shit, you never know what can happen next in reality.


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