men and women in writing class

The humor between male v. female, and vice versa

The following vignette is apparently a true story, which I think is particularly effective in illustrating two points. Point #1: Wherever you go, there you are, including situations fraught with conflict, and Point #2: Humor is an ingenious communication strategy, including in those situations fraught with conflict.

Read the following and see for yourself.

Remember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Well, here's a prime example offered by an English professor at Southern Methodist University, English 44A, SMU, Creative Writing [Professor Miller]

In-class Assignment for Wednesday: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

"The following was actually turned in by two of my English students:

Rebecca - last name deleted, and Gary - last name deleted."

STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca) At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(Gary) Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca) He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary) Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out out of the sky!"

(Rebecca) This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary) Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

(Rebecca) Asshole.

(Gary) Bitch.

that was great reading :)
you learn so much about the people from what and how they write :)

He want's a constant change in order to keep the readers eyes on book but she wanted to connect with readers trough feelings. Love is what connect us all and change is what drives our lifes. It could be a bestseller if they just wanted to finish it.

heheh:D awesome

The thing I find interesting is - she COULD have continued HIS narrative, cause it was actually going somewhere.

He could not have continued hers. Chances are "Rebecca" really does have asthma and an ex called Carl. And I'm sorry, no man can write "no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully". I don't know HOW I'd even BEGIN to try to get inside her brain to figure out what she was trying to have her protagonist do next.

Apart from make chamomile tea and write Lillith Fair lyrics.

The thing I find interesting is - she COULD have continued HIS narrative, cause it was actually going somewhere.

He could not have continued hers. Chances are "Rebecca" really does have asthma and an ex called Carl. And I'm sorry, no man can write "no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully". I don't know HOW I'd even BEGIN to try to get inside her brain to figure out what she was trying to have her protagonist do next.

Apart from make chamomile tea and write Lillith Fair lyrics.

well.... she used her self or other near friend as a inspiration since that was probably something that would make her interesting in reading fruther....

he then realised that "tragic love" thing is a bit boring and filled with bad emotions and decided to open up for imagination. and since almost everything is allowed in sci-fi he tok that way.... a bit arogant but cleverly done....

he could write out him self in a more creative way than just runing in to sci-fi

2 points for her :)

plain and simple, Rebecca had a more mature writing style, Gary wrote something a child would write

Good and simple point.... but his "childish" writing made me think about the inner child in our selfs, and how important it is to our souls to have that inner child and to sometimes alow our selfs to be as a child.

I know I tend to play with people like in the theatre in middle of busy streets :)
I might sound crazy but it's never something bad or negative :) Just childish :D


Silly theatre

oh indulging the inner child is important

"its good to be childlike but not childish" as i have been quoted.

people tend to go through life slugging their guts out with no time to indulge the inner child, then bang, realisation happens "my god, i have nothing that's me!" that is when people have the mid-life crises strike.

got to keep an even keel on such matters. you'll burn out or MLC.

hence weekends are MINE! i need them after 5 days working a shitty underpaid job and looking after family members in the eve.


anyhow, I digress, so back to topic at hand:

i have read this before elsewhere, and no matter how i look at it, I'm with Rebecca, I'd be frustrated as well, and i can be a little more brutally blunt when annoyed

Haha :) I just close my eyes and wish when I'm anoyed. Then evrything works it self out. I'm just glad I had my MLC when I was 20. Now I grew up to a totaly happy child :D Now how silly is that? Time to sleep....................... and you're one funny dude :D stay cool!

i do try, snore well

Quote:

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Rebecca had a more mature writing style

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Being UNDESCRIBABLY BORING and pretentious does not mean you have a mature style.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Head Wreck

i have read this before elsewhere, and no matter how i look at it, I'm with Rebecca, I'd be frustrated as well, and i can be a little more brutally blunt when annoyed

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to tie in with her story, she would be expecting him to continue the girls point of view, which would be IMPOSSIBLE for him to do believably, or do the mans point of view - and lets face it, hes probably not interested in that. neither of them are writing 'more maturely' as both are being completely childish. neither of them want anything to do with eithers story, and neither are willing to compromise. her story is childish in that its "oh, my life (erm i mean, lauries life) is hard and that bastard broke up with me and oh the chamomile boo hoo" and his is childish because its "whoo! space cowboys! zap zap! im a commando WHEEE!!!"

the only difference was that his had potential as a joint project, while hers did not.

besides, this is a joke. it might be "apparently true" but they wouldnt have written the last four parts, they would have just glared at each other, complained to the teacher and never spoken again. why is it getting such a serious discussion? not that im attempting to stop it, as a good debate is fun and healthy yes.

I love it that she says it's a "mockery of literature".

It got my attention since there's a interesting paradox in it for me. Is there any connection to the real life of Rebecca and Gary? Might be since emotional level of writers are preety much high to continue writing fruther... ormaybe it's just a ego conflict.....

There's also the issue that she never shows what's going on, she discusses it.

Contrast this:

"Amelia was angry. How dare Carl have psychically brutalised her?"

with

"A dark look momentarily crossed Amelia's face as the formerly comforting box of chamomile tea mocked her from the cupboard. Its well worn smoothness threatened to make it slip from the tremblilng fingers that almost lost their purchase as she inadvertently slammed it on the counter.

Her mother's worn and gentle hand took her arm gently, her aged face a mask of grave concern. "You're wheezing again" she said softly, "maybe you had better sit down."

"That's okay, mom", Amelia sighed, her breath indeed coming with more difficulty, as she put the box back. Anything today but the tea she once shared with the man of which the last memory was the braying laughter ringing in her ears as she sobbed when she heard the news.

Anything today but the chamomile she was drinking when Carl walked out forever.

I mean, it's still CRAP, but it's less crap.

indubitably