Tag Archives: write

The Day Andrea Gibson Came to Town.

2 Mar

So, I had the amazing experience this last week of not only watching Andrea Gibson perform, but meeting her and going to a workshop she gave as well. It was definitely one of those moments as a writer I’ll forever cherish.

For those of you not familiar with the name, go google ASAP. Andrea is a well known slam poet, and for a good reason. Her poetry is absolutely gorgeous, and the way she words her pieces and they roll off her tongue – ugh! – they’re so great. She performed at this year’s That Takes Ovaries open mic night event, and she stayed for the second half and saw me perform one of my pieces. She did a lot of her best pieces, including my favorite of hers, “I Do.”

Then the next day she held an hour and a half long workshop (which turned into a two hour workshop because we ran way over time), and she would read us poems and we would then free write whatever came to our minds. All together we free wrote three poems, and then some of us shared one poem at the end. I shared one and she commended me on how every word was there for a purpose and how good it was. I felt so honored to have someone I admire so much pay me such an amazing compliment. At the end of the workshop, I got the chance to tell her that she is one of the three people who are the reason I got into slam poetry (along with Shane Hawley and Sarah Kay), and she thanked me. It was just an overall wonderful experience.

Anyway, here are two of the three poems I wrote. I didn’t really like the third poem, but I’m quite proud of these two. Enjoy.


Advice to a teenage Julia Allegretto Gaskill.

Don’t clash your wear and tear.
Run spark plugs through your hair.
Your avalanche back and craning legs
highlight your race car persona,
so cave in the mountain and kill the bird
before someone notices.

Stop Star Warsing all over the place.
Hobbits in your eyes;
pluck them out and wring them dry
till they turn into origami butterflies.

Speak like a queen.
Demand like a king.
Your jester smile is doubling down
your chances of ever learning how to fly.
You Blues Brothers mother.
You finger-clacking lover.
You star-gazing, toe-tapping, dream-lapping
miniature Great Dane.

Fingers grasping for rooms laced in water droplets
to dunk your shins into
and be born again as a broken smile.
Stop snapping wishbones.
Go dye your heart green
and hawk your virginity
to afford admission to this never ending factory tour.


I hate to do this, but I have to preface the next poem. This is not a poem about rape. It’s a poem about how my first kiss was taken from me, and how I came close to being taken advantage of sexually when I was eighteen, but it didn’t happen the way he planned, so fuck that fucker.



My body was not your playground.
The small of my back was not a slide
for your hand to travel upon,
looping around going lower and lower.
My ass was not monkey bars to grasp
over and over again
to take you to some other side.
My lips were not a teeter totter
where every “no” was a “yes”
and every “stop it” was an “I like the way
you put your hand up my dress
in front of all my friends.”

You ran around my playground
as if you owned the deed,
but before you could bulldoze me down
with your weed and liquor breath against my neck
to build a strip mall to cover all the places I had grown,
I took that stand.
I said “enough.”
You said “come back” with your carpenter hands
grasping for that monkey bars ass and
feeling for those seesaw lips,
but I slammed the door on you for good
before you ripped my life to bits.
Your broken lies broke down
the second your too-old kiss stole
from me, even after I told you of my dreams,
and after I trusted you as a friend;
my playmate during recess to whisper warranted
secrets to when the teachers weren’t looking.
Apparently I was wrong about you all along.

Now I’ve planted a sign
deep within my bark dust eyes
which forever shall read:
No assholes allowed on this playground anymore.

actually making money.

7 Sep

Earlier this week I submitted my first ever invoice to get paid as a writer. An actual, bonafide writer. I’d never written one before so I did get it in late, so I wont be paid for August until the end of September, which while not ideal is okay because I’ll be getting two paychecks at once. Ka-ching.

All that being said, holy fuck me. I’m getting paid. To write. This is… what is going on with my life? Not only that, but I made more in two weeks writing for this site than I do in two weeks working at the motel, let alone two weeks babysitting. And Bruce mentioned that right now I’m on a starting salary, with the potential of being paid more if I stick with the web-site. That’s… just… fuck.

This means that this year, unlike every other year in college, I can save my money. This means not having to worry about rent each month, living off of top ramen and PB&J sandwiches, begging my dad for financial help, and being able to afford Christmas presents without using every penny in my pocket. This means paying off credit card bills. This means when I graduate college and move away from Ashland and quit my motel job, I’m not totally fucked. This means I’ll still have a job when I get up to Portland. This means while I’m trying to get my personal writing out there (ie. stories, poetry, screenplays, etc.) I’ll still have a form of income.

This means when I go up to Portland later this year I can afford to take my dad out to a nice dinner and pay the bill.

This means things might be all right.

setting myself up.

6 Jun

Here’s a list of things I’m writing that I’d like to accomplish this summer:

  • Obsessed || screenplay
  • Untitled Beach/Mute Writer/Toussaint Charbonneau piece || screenplay
  • Max Factor || screenplay
  • Questions || screenplay
  • Twins || play
  • Doodles on a Nihilist’s Arm || short story
  • The Girl With the Owl Necklace || short story
  • Twinship || novel
  • Eleven Inches || novel
  • This Year || slam poem
  • Shy || slam poem
  • The Ferris Bueller Method || slam poem


Sorry for all these lists as of late. I know they don’t constitute as interesting blog entries. My goal for the summer is to write in this blog once a day and, well, okay, it’s not technically my summer just yet (eight more days!), but I’m kind of trying to get into the swing of things now. The problem is that if I wrote about what’s going on in my life right now it’d be a constant blather about stress of school/finances/moving/finals/etc. I guess writing about moving could be interesting, but I haven’t even begun the moving process just yet, and I seriously doubt people would like recounts of me shoving mugs and scarves into random boxes.

So. Yeah. Here’s a vague list about stuff I’m gonna (hopefully) work on this summer.

Should I share my writing on here throughout the summer? Maybe tidbits of each of them.

Writing Writing Writing

5 Jun

I’ve garnered two writing gigs in the past month of my life. One with coolgizmotoys.com, where I’ve written articles about cupcake wrappers and Father’s Day gift ideas. The other is ToughPigs.com, where I’ve written one article about Steve Whitmire’s hair that was released today.

I don’t really have much more to say on the topic. I just think it’s really cool that I can say I’m a featured writer of sorts. A freelanced writer, if you will! I feel like I’m just one step away from being able to say I’m a (somewhat) professional writer. Of course, I’m many more steps away than just one, but I feel like this is a really good start for me. I need to start with something laid back and low key, which both of these sites are. And they both play to two of my biggest passions, being: 1) Geeky toys, and 2) Muppets.

I’m hoping this summer to browse around for more freelance writing gigs. I don’t want to take on too much, since I do have another school year to go through and all, but maybe just one more? I think three online writing gigs for my super senior year of college would be a nice thing to have. I could put them on my resume and by the time I get out into the real world I can be all, “Oh yes! Look, old chap! I’ve accomplished all of this in only one year’s time! Quite quite!” (When did I turn into a posh British gentleman? I don’t know, but now I suddenly wish I had a monocle.)

On a side note: I am really hoping to finish my two main screenplays this summer. That would be really nifty. Then maybe I could polish them up throughout my super senior year, ship them out, and see if anything comes of them.

Ideally, in the long haul, I want to write screenplays. And novels. And maybe get more into the spoken word scene. But for now? For now I will gladly settle with these two writing gigs because, honestly, it’s not settling at all.

An excerpt from something I’m writing.

8 Feb

“Was it hard? Growing up?”
She dragged the tip of her finger in illustrious circles upon his right shoulder; grand designs that led to nowhere. His sweet hum to her touch made the short hairs rise on the back of her neck. His tune was a melody of sweet serenity and pure bliss. This was how she knew she had finally found the someone that was worth her while.
But when she asked her question his hum died down and his eyes grew wide. He stared up at the ceiling, not daring to allow himself eye contact with her, almost as though he was afraid that she would decode the daunting memories held in his gaze.
“You don’t want to know that.”
“If I didn’t want to know I wouldn’t have asked.”
He let himself steal a quick glance, just the smallest flutter of his eyes at the naked woman lying next to him, before he returned them to the ceiling.

((I’m kind of cheating. This is an excerpt from a novel I’m working on that I wrote a loooooong time ago (ie. last summer), but I’m lazy and it’s convenient enough to just share something I’ve already written. There’s more to this scene, but it’s not worked enough yet. I should work on this story again.))

A review on ‘The Descendants’ and why I liked it

5 Feb

I’d really like to write a movie that is as good as The Descendants.

Kind of.

There were so many things this movie did right. It was a very honest, very open piece. It didn’t shy away from the hard-hitting things that come along with the death of a loved one or the discovery of an affair. It was written in such a way that it allowed the actors to give spectacular performances, especially Mr. Clooney. I spent the entire time waiting for his character to break down or punch someone or to just react in a very emotional way, as would make sense for a person in his situation, and while his mask slipped a few times and a tear or two was shed he kept it all in, which I think was the strong choice to make on this part. The movie told me a story that made me tear up – not sob, like I expected to, but still, tears were there – and an hour after it’s over I’m still very much thinking about it, which should really be the true goal of any movie. The dialogue was well written and the character relationships were interesting. The cinematography was beautiful. The way some shots were framed? Took my fucking breath away. The landscapes/settings were amazing as well. I noticed location so much more in this movie than others I’ve seen, and while the beautiful shots of Hawaii were, well, beautiful, the smaller indoor locations were what really stuck out to me. Like the tiny green room where the doctor gives Clooney the bad news? For some reason in that scene I thought “Wow. That is such a perfect room for this scene to be set in.”

However, it was a bit slow at a lot of points, and I wasn’t really a fan of the ending. I guess I was all right with how it ended, but I just felt the ending was… sudden? It just left me feeling a little unsatisfied. I thought there would be a greater climax; a really cathartic moment. There was one that sticks out, but it was so small… I guess I wanted just a little more resolution. It felt like the climax was reached thirty minutes before the end of the film, and it really wasn’t ready for it yet. Also, the beginning of the film put so much focus on the youngest daughter and then that went away rather quickly, which was a shame as I would have loved to see more what was going on with her during this period of her life.

But all the good that I mentioned? That’s what I want in all the screenplays that I write. Deep-rooted thought out character relationships, opportunities for intriguing, well-placed on location filming, a plot that sticks with you for days after you’ve seen it, dialogue that stands its own and shows deep subtext/context, rounded characters, and a message that strikes at the heart. A movie that you’d like to see. That I’d like to see. Something that speaks out to people and makes them consider things deep down. I don’t think any of the things I’ve written stand up to that ideal… but I’d like to try. Keep trying, I guess. That’s all I can really do.

So yes. I think I’d like to write a movie like The Descendants.


I started working on a screenplay again.

27 Jan

I haven’t touched it for almost a year now and I’ve barely written anything for it up till now, so I’m a little shocked that I’m suddenly spending so much time working on it when I have plenty of other screenplays that are almost done but I have yet to wrap up.

It’s right now going by the working title Questions and it’s essentially an updated adaption of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. It’s set in modern times, and it’s about two friends, Rose and Gill, who find out their good friend’s father has passed on and go to comfort him. Initially, it follows the play quite closely, but I’m working on experimenting with the characters a bit. I don’t want it to stick too close to the script on every aspect. I’m thinking that this Hamlet will actually have lost his mind, quite literally, and the effects it has on Rose and Gill when they see what’s happened to their college bud. And I’d like to include Ophelia, Polonius, and Horatio more than the original script does.

And yes, Rosencrantz is Rose now because, I dunno, yay genderbending? When I started writing this I had absolutely no intention on there being any romantic inclinations between the two lead characters, but the more I write… gah, characters have a mind of their own sometime. I think there will be subtle hints, but for the most part it will be just a very sturdy, solid friendship. I guess I’ll have to wait and see though.

I really should be working on other screenplays right now, but I’m so drained on creativity that I will take whatever comes my way.