Come on Def it's just a sandwich, don't make a meal out of it!
First paragraph challenge Page 2
Quote: Marc P @ April 5 2011, 2:36 PM BSTCome on Def it's just a sandwich, don't make a meal out of it!
And the winner of the 'Punn Challenge' goes to...
Def.
Don't want to be rude guys but I'm trying to get a couple of sketches done for Newsrevue. Please post Def. (I put mine up) and I'll be happy to come back and comment later. Play nice while I'm away.
Ok. Here's the first paragraph of one I am working on.
Andrew Johnson was a pillar of his local community.
Quote: Marc P @ April 5 2011, 2:47 PM BSTOk. Here's the first paragraph of one I am working on.
Andrew Johnson was a pillar of his local community.
Be careful not to give too much away... 
Def.
Quote: Marc P @ April 5 2011, 2:47 PM BSTOk. Here's the first paragraph of one I am working on.
Andrew Johnson was a pillar of his local community.
Maybe we could write a book together. I've got a bit for you, Marc, to add mystery and tension. 'Andrew Johnson was a pillar of his local community hall.'
Nah, that's just gilding the lily. 
Ok, so here is the next bit:
Day 1. Thursday 2am.
Mark sat at his dining table and stared blankly at the accounting papers laid out in front of him. The ticking of his watch seemed to echo around the otherwise silent house and served as a constant reminder that it was the early hours of the morning and he was still no closer to finishing those damn accounts. 'Seven hours to go', he thought. In fact he shouted it out in anger, "Seven hours to go!". The presentation to one if his firms best clients started at 9am sharp and the accounts were to serve as the major tool to decide if his client was to remain in business or call it a day. If Mark couldn't get this ready on time then he could kiss his future at the firm goodbye.
He never bothered to change from his work attire since getting home hours earlier. Sleeves rolled up, shirt top button undone and tie loosened. This was war. Mark grabbed hold of the balance sheet. "Bastard!" he said directly to it and waited for it to reply. He didn't normally talk to sheets of paper, and he didn't normally expect a reply, but it had been a long night and it wasn't over yet. It didn't help that he had already consumed a quarter of a bottle of brandy to try and ease his nerves. He had also roamed the entire house in frustration, turning on every light in the process and not bothering to turn them off afterwards. In fact the only place that didn't have a light on was the stair cupboard, but this was only because it was too small for Mark to walk around in.
2.15am. "Bastard!" he said again, then stuffed the balance sheet into his mouth and started to chew. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually quite hungry. He stopped chewing the paper and spat it out.
"Miaow", said Polo, Mark's long haired cat that had just jumped up on to the table and got hit in the face by the balance sheet projectile.
"Hello Polo", replied Mark, "I guess you want some food too?"
"Miaow", replied the feline, which was cat talk for, 'of course I want some food. It's a quarter past two in the morning and you normally feed me at ten o'clock. Now sort your bloody priorities out!'. Well, it meant something like that anyway.
Mark half walked and half staggered to the kitchen to see what culinary delights he could rustle up. The crunch of plastic cd cases accompanied every step. Mark made a mental note to tidy the house up before any of his cd cases got broken. Oh dear, too late.
The kitchen was tiny. In fact it was so small that a famous cliché made him bend down and grasp Polo by the tail. Luckily he dismissed it in an instant and returned to the subject at hand. "Miaow", said Polo, which was cat talk for 'thank God we don't actually have to go through with that kitchen illustration again.'
Mark feed his feline friend with a fresh pouch of gourmet something or other then turned his attention to his late night snack. He took two slices of bread from the bin to his left then grabbed the butter from the fridge to his right. The work surface was a little cluttered from previous culinary exploits, but it was nothing that a bit of pushing and stacking couldn't cure. He buttered his bread then reached up to the cupboard to retrieve a small can of corned beef. With unsteady hands he missed the tin and instead knocked over the tea caddy. A number of perfectly perforated tea bags fell directly onto his open bread. Mark stared at this new development for a moment then decided he would actually eat the teabag sandwich. His was too tired to start again, and it would actually save him the effort of making a cup of tea.
The sandwich tasted awful. The dry leaves coated the inside of his mouth and he suddenly retched to clear his throat. As he did so he suddenly and unexpectedly had a moment of pure clarity. The answers to the balance sheet and the finality of the dreaded accounts were in his grasp. Typical he thought, you walk around in the dark for ages then all the answers suddenly come at once. It happens like that sometimes doesn't it? Fully charged with the answer to his problem Mark went straight to his notebook computer and put the missing bits of the balance sheet together.
2.45am. Finished. That was it. The work was complete. He would get to work a little earlier, print the thing out, and make it look pretty and presentable. With a sigh of relief he began to tidy away all the papers on the table. With the last of his work put away in his brief case he spied the half chewed offending balance sheet. He held it in his hand and smiled. All that trouble he thought, thank God there is nothing else to go wrong tonight.
In hindsight this was a premature and naive statement. Because at 2.50am, the front doorbell rang.
Def.
Also very intriguing Def. The one thing I am not sure about is the authorial voice. It seems to jump out somewhat? For me anyway.
Marc
Makes note not to pop round for tea and sandwiches.
Quote: Marc P @ April 5 2011, 3:33 PM BSTAlso very intriguing Def. The one thing I am not sure about is the authorial voice. It seems to jump out somewhat? For me anyway.
MarcMakes note not to pop round for tea and sandwiches.
I think I would agree Marc. I was ideally trying to get a hybrid of telling a story and attempting humour around that story at the same time. Almost from two different angles so that I as the author also speak to the reader. I used to be a fan of Robert Rankin and he seemed to have the skill to pull it off. If I'm honest I just don't know how to do it properly.
Def.
Yeah it's a tricky one unless you make the narrator a character in the story or do it in the first person maybe??
I guess the first person could work although it is then difficult to convey other things going on in the story as everything is then seen through the main characters eyes. I kind of like the quirkiness of trying to do third person and author intervention at the same time, but I realise that it seems to break rules and is not to everyones taste.
I wonder if it is possible to introduce yourself as narrator, then tell the story in the third person yet at the same time inject it with your narrative thoughts and witty comments? Which I guess is pretty much what I was trying to do but without saying 'hello, I'm your author guide'. It is a tricky game this writing lark.
Def.
From years ago when the script I am now working on was a book.
It's changed a lot, I haven't looked at it in a long time.
Ronny opened his eyes with a start, he had not meant to fall asleep, only to rest his eyes briefly but now he felt panicky that he might have been caught sleeping on duty, John wouldn't f**k about, he would sort him out on the spot, and rightly so.
As his eyes tried to focus in the pre-dawn gloom he wondered what had woken him, he opened his mouth and tried to tune in to his surroundings while peering his head slightly out from his position. Apart from the slight rustling of the branches and the assorted subtle noises from the farm there was nothing untoward, but he had heard something he was sure of it.
Quote: Deferenz @ April 5 2011, 4:05 PM BSTI guess the first person could work although it is then difficult to convey other things going on in the story as everything is then seen through the main characters eyes. I kind of like the quirkiness of trying to do third person and author intervention at the same time, but I realise that it seems to break rules and is not to everyones taste.
I wonder if it is possible to introduce yourself as narrator, then tell the story in the third person yet at the same time inject it with your narrative thoughts and witty comments? Which I guess is pretty much what I was trying to do but without saying 'hello, I'm your author guide'. It is a tricky game this writing lark.
Def.
I just wrote something that was first person when the hero was present and third person when he was not!
Quote: Griff @ April 5 2011, 4:31 PM BSTIf you're writing sketches for Newsrevue then rudeness is mandatory.
Thought that was Treason Show.