So! What this means is that, because I still want to contribute to our wonderful blog, I figured I should post something else that I want to work on. Here is that thing. It's only a beginning, but I'm gonna give it to you all anyways. Because I love you so much. Tell me what you think.
(Insert Title Here)
He was the type of man who loved his own mustache. Self-absorbtion was Toph's game, and he did it quite well. He took pride in his narcissism; like the watch passed down from father to son, it had been other's before it had been his, but he adored it just the same.
Windows were a particular point of interest for Toph. They were a sort of on the go self-checkout, to be examined whenever a quick fix of self-confidence was needed. He would stop, smiling at his reflection in the way reserved only for images of himself, making delicate adjustments to the robust entirety of hair that stretched across his upper lip. Anyone unlucky enough to be on the other side of this makeshift mirror would find themselves to be stared down, fixed with a gaze so intense and a mustache so perfect that they would often find themselves compelled to move. Perhaps to a different spot behind whatever window it was they so helplessly looked out of, or perhaps to escape the window altogether. They were scared, and understandably so. Anyone would be, faced with a mustache like that.
Mornings were wonderful. Knitted in a way that suggested "familial christmas gift", or at the very least "birthday present from grandma", Toph kept a pillow on his bed that he woke up every morning looking at. To remind him who he was. Brushing sleep from his eyes with nonchalance, Toph read, emblazoned in pink script letters, "Every day when I wake up, I experience an exquisite joy - the joy of being Toph Sanderson," and started his day.
...
That's all I got. I want to continue it, but I'd love any advice on where that continuing should go.
Salvador Dali, eh?
ReplyDeleteMove "Knitted in a way...grandma" to right after "pink script letters" or something like that. I thought the morning or Toph was supposed to be knitted haha.
Por ejemplo: Brushing sleep from his eyes with nonchalance, Toph opened his eyes to see pink script letters knitted across his pillow in a way that suggested "familial christmas gift" or, at the very least, "birthday present from grandma" that read, "Every day when wake up....balh blah blah Toph
Write more of it!
I want to know more about this Toph guy. I've never really imagined someone like Dali doing anything besides arrogant surrealist painting, so it'd be interesting to see where you go with Toph.
On where the continuing should go, tell me about Toph's mirror and family.
I am VERY interested in this guy. Also, you made me laugh with your description about how he adjusts his mustache in the windows.
ReplyDelete"Anyone unlucky enough to be on the other side of this makeshift mirror would find themselves to be stared down, fixed with a gaze so intense and a mustache so perfect that they would often find themselves compelled to move. " --> love it
The knitting part confused me too, so yeah, listen to Daniel.
As far as where to go with the continuing, my suggestion is: Have him do something pretty routine in his day, or have something weird happen to him, that allows you to tell us things about his family (particularly his father) and why he needs to wake up to the message that it is an exquisite joy to be him. Just drop hints at it, maybe allude to some of his memories, don't tell us outright.