Six Sentence Sunday

In this scene from “Just Friends With Benefits”, Stephanie looks to pop culture and God to cleanse her of a sin committed to love interest Ryan.

“When I closed my eyes to go to sleep that last night in the Outer Banks, I imagined asking my fairy godmother to grant me not three, but a measly single wish-that I had never broken up with Ryan. And I drafted in my mind a persuasive essay to Mr. Rourke explaining why I deserved a spot on Fantasy Island; a place where Ryan would certainly forgive me for my sin. And I thought about how great it would be if I could just ask Bill and Ted to make one extra stop on their Excellent Adventure, to 48 hours prior, before I had left that stupid fucking voicemail to Ryan. In a last ditch effort, I sat up in bed and looked up at the ceiling. “Please God,” I whispered, looking over at a sleeping Denise. “Please let there be a message waiting for me from Ryan when I wake up.”

I hope you liked! Please be sure to check out other Six Sentence Sunday entries this week: http://www.sixsunday.com/

closure

When I started my first novel in 2008, I had strong feelings for a certain guy who shall remain nameless even though a) I’m sure he’ll never read this and b) he’s kind of a douchebag who deserves to be outted. I had dated this person for about eight months and while I was the one who ended things, it was only because I knew he didn’t share my feelings and nothing was ever going to change. I started Just Friends With Benefits a few months after we stopped dating and, while the book was 100% fiction, I based characters on both him and some of the people I’d met through him. By creating a fictional world around characters inspired by him and his friends, I was able to say/do things I never had the opportunity to do in real life and by the time I finished the book, I was completely over him. Closure. Shortly afterward, I had several experiences where the guy I was dating or thought was interested in me simply disappeared, sometimes permanently and sometimes only to pop back in a few weeks (months…) later as if nothing had happened. One time, I had a guy blow me off in the middle of an email exchange regarding who was cooler – Mr. Furley or Mr. Roper (from Three’s Company). Perhaps my preference for Mr. Furley offended him? These experiences thoroughly frustrated me and quite frankly pissed me off! By the time I finished my second novel (not yet published), about a 26 year old woman who dives head first into the NYC dating scene after a 9 year relationship with her first and only boyfriend only to find it infested with flakes who are interested today and gone tomorrow, I had learned that guys like that are just not worth the angst. Closure.

I didn’t write these novels hoping for or expecting closure but my emotional state at the time drove my creative juices and novels were born. I was pleasantly surprised that in addition to providing me with writer’s high (equally as amazing as runner’s high), writing these novels acted as my shrink!

I am now 90 pages into my third novel and, while I am not ready to go into details, I am wondering if, like the others, it will provide closure on some aspect of my life that requires it.

For other authors who might read this, have you ever obtained closure through the writing process?

Six Sentence Sunday!

In this scene from my published novel, Just Friends With Benefits, Stephanie is trying to convince her mother (and possibly herself) that the nature of her relationship with the object of her affection, Craig Hille, is more than it appears:

“I understand. But do you think Hille will decide to upgrade your status from fuck buddy to boyfriend and girlfriend if you travel across states to have sex with him?”

Finally appreciating the humor of my 62 year old mother’s repeated use of the phrase “fuck buddy,” I laughed into the phone. “For the last time, he’s not my fuck buddy, Mom.”

In between chewing something, my mom said, “Ok.”

“And besides, it could lead to more.”

 

Check out the Six Sentence Sunday website for more fun!  http://sixsunday.com/

dumbass.com

 

I’d like to preface this post by stating that I am a pretty smart chick. I won’t claim to be a genius but scores on several IQ exams have indicated that I am “highly intelligent.” I graduated college with honors even while partying approximately four nights a week, I think certain things come easier for me than the average person and I am generally very insightful.

The above aside, sometimes I do the most lame brain things where I have to stand back and say, “Really Meredith? Did you really just do that?”

This post is inspired by something I did earlier this week. I had signed up to participate in Six Sentence Sunday. Writers who take part in Six Sentence Sunday simply post six consecutive sentences of anything they’ve written, published or not, on their blogs each Sunday. The masters behind Six Sentence Sunday centralize the participants by linking all of the writer’s websites to the Six Sentence Sunday website. In order to do so, the site requires that we provide information including the web address and title of our blogs. Sounds simple, right? Well, apparently not simple enough for one Meredith Gail Schorr. When asked for the title of the blog, I indicated that it was “Six Sentence Sunday” as that is, in fact, what I intend to call my blog post this Sunday. After I provided the requested information, I perused the list of other participants and thought it was odd that my name was not there. There were lots of other names on the list, including fabulous author and twitter friend Tracie Banister, but not my name. I checked again and saw that the list was filled with names of participants except for participant number 18 whose name was listed as, wait, “Six Sentence Sunday?” Rut Roh. Apparently, we were supposed to provide the name of our blog; not the name of the specific post. And apparently I was the only one who didn’t understand that. I was able to correct the mistake by sending a quick email but I was mortified. How did everyone else get it right when I got it wrong? DUH.

Which brought to mind other dumb ass things I have done, even in the past couple of months. Check these out:

I was setting up my bike for spin class a few Sundays ago and saw that I had put my tank top on inside out. Now, I’ve put my shorts on inside out more than once but usually on weekday mornings when I’m at the gym half asleep because the sun hasn’t even come up yet. My spin class is at 10:15.

I tried to buy a metro card using my ATM card. I couldn’t understand why the machine kept telling me my zip code was wrong. Er, maybe because I was supposed to provide my pin number, not my zip code!!

I went to deposit my royalty check using the ATM and didn’t understand why the machine said my check had expired. The check clearly indicated that it was good for 90 days and it had only been about 30. I got on line to have a talk with the bank teller. It was lunch hour, the line was long and a bank employee came around to ask if anyone would prefer to use the ATM. I told him I much preferred to use the ATM but it would not accept my check. He said he would assist me and suggested that perhaps my check was too wrinkled. My checks are always wrinkled and none had ever been rejected before, but I decided to humor the guy anyway and let him straighten out my check. I once again tried to deposit the now unwrinkled check and once again, the transaction was bounced because it expired. I gave the bank employee an “I told you so” look and said, “See? It says it’s expired and it’s not!” The employee looked at me with pity and said, “Dear, it’s not the check that is expired, it’s your debit card.” Oh.

I flooded the contents of one of my office desk drawers because I put my water bottle inside without firmly closing the lid.

I walked all the way from 44th and 6th to 52nd and 7th with my dress tucked into my jacket. It wasn’t until I walked into Rosie O’Grady’s that I noticed it. I laughed it off because, really, what else could I have done?

I tried unsuccessfully to unlock the door to my 18th floor apartment. Perhaps the attempt would have been successful had I not been on the 17th floor.

I accidentally flushed the key to my office bathroom down the toilet. I was finally given another key. I lost it.

There are so many more where these come from to which my friends and family can surely attest and they are welcome to share here. But, please, if you’ve ever done anything that seems to defy your own high intelligence quotient, please feel free to leave a comment! I’d like to know I’m in good company.

annoying mispronunciations + giveaway!

GIVEAWAY IS  OVER!!!

 

People mispronounce or misuse words/phrases all of the time. It’s not a felony or even a misdemeanor but sometimes it’s pretty darn annoying. And sometimes, when I hear these mispronounced words, it’s like fingernails on a chalk board. Since misery loves company, I thought I’d share some of what I consider the biggest offenders with you:

1. Valentime’s Day. It’s Valentine’s Day!! Would you pronounce New Year’s Eve, “Mew Year’s Eve”? I doubt it. I know “M” and “N” are consecutive letters in the alphabet but seriously people.

2. Libary. It’s Library! If you are going to make a trip there, you might want to look at the dictionary and see how it’s spelled. Libary? C’mon!!

3. Alfit. Outfit. Ok, this is not a common one, but I have heard people pronounce “outfit” as “alfit” as in, “I’m going to wear a sexy alfit when my boyfriend takes me to the libary on Valentimes Day.

4. My As Well. Might as Well. I am extremely ashamed to admit that I used to say this and apparently I used to say it often. No one ever corrected me until one day, my boss had enough. I must have said something like, “I my as well give it a shot, right?” Well, Alan’s face turned a deep shade of red, to the point where I thought it might pop off of his neck, he pounded his fists on the desk and shouted, “It’s Might as well. MIGHT. MIGHT. MIGHT!” Needless to say, I never made that mistake again. (I learned it from my mother. Just sayin…)

 5. irregardless. Ok, there is no such word as “irregardless.” The correct word is “regardless.”

6. Mines. Mine. As in:

“I got my prom dress today.”

“Ooh, you’re so lucky! I’m getting mines tomorrow!!”

7. For all intensive purposes – for all intents and purposes. I think I might have been guilty of this at some point. “For all intensive…” is easier to roll off your tongue than “for all intents and…” but it doesn’t make it right!!

8. Anyways. Anyway. “Anyway, I better get going now.” not “Anyways, I better get going now.” This one doesn’t bother me all that much unless I am PMSing 🙂

9. Gimme – ok, this one just bothers me because it’s rude! I hate when the person in front of me on line at (insert name of restaurant/store) says “Gimme a glazed donut and a chocolate munchkin.” ‘Gimme a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights” Gimme? Even if you said “Give me”, I would still hate you. Politeness goes a long way!

10. Axe. Ask. May I axe you a question?

Bonus – even though I’ve only heard this one once, it’s my absolute favorite:

11. Rappaport – Rapport. My boss and I were in the elevator at our previous law firm. Two women were speaking and one told the other how she was introduced to someone recently and discovered they had a really good “rappaport” We assumed she meant to say “rapport”. I bit my lip and stared at the ground trying to avoid eye contact with my boss. As soon as the women exited the elevator, the two of us looked at each other and burst out laughing. Whenever I tell him about a new friend, he asks if we had a good rappaport.

This list is certainly not exhaustive because I want some audience participation. I’ve left room for you to add to it. I will give a free copy of Just Friends With Benefits (paperback or Kindle download) to the person whose comment I like the best!! Deadline is February 14th – ValentiNes Day 🙂

ON YOUR MARK, GET SET, GO!