酷我-北美枫

[christine]

The Story of a Whiner Co-written with ericcoliu

Eric: Fuck! We haven’t had any bites since early this morning.
James: Just be quiet. Be patient.
(Eric glances at his watch.)
Eric; Holy shit! Now, it’s almost 6 pm. James, we’ve spent the day here with nothing. Can we call it a day?
James: You’re a real whiner. You know that, right?
Eric: No, I just don’t want to waste …
(James interrupts Eric’s talking.)
James: Have you ever heard of Henry Schmidt, Eric? Nah! This guy was from Brownsville, Texas, and was a gifted pitcher. In his rookie year, he played for the Brooklyn Superbas during the 1903 season, and he …
Eric: What the hell does this goddamned baseball player’s story have anything to do with us? We might as well have just stayed at home and stuck our thumbs up our asses.
(James looks at Eric intensely for moments. There is a momentary tension. Then, James starts talking again.)
James: In his first year, he won 22 games. …
Eric; Whatever! I’ve never heard of him!
James: That’s the point! He could have been a baseball hall of fame, but he sent his manager his second season contract unsigned with a note attached to it, saying, “I do not like living in the East, and I won’t report to the coach.” After that, he had never played another game in the Majors.
(Eric shows his disbelief and raises his voice.)
Eric: Why? Did he screw like that?
James: Why? Because he knew he had to walk away. Because some voice deep inside him was telling him, “It’s time now.” Maybe you have the same voice as his telling you that it’s time to leave.
(Eric suddenly seems to understand what James was trying to say.)
Eric: No, it’s not like that. I just hate wasting …
(James waves his hand and makes a gesture to tell Eric to shut up.)
James: Why don’t we do what I said when we first got here? Be quiet and patient.
Eric: What if that doesn’t work?
James: Then we wait some more!
Eric: Yeah.

Silent falls between them. Gradually, the sun has been moving across the landscape, over the willow trees by the river. Two men have been fishing all day without any bites.

[[christine]]

The Story of a Whiner Co-written with ericcoliu

Eric: Fuck! We haven’t had any bites since early this morning.
James: Just be quiet. Be patient.
(Eric glances at his watch.)
Eric; Holy shit! Now, it’s almost 6 pm. James, we’ve spent the day here with nothing. Can we call it a day?
James: You’re a real whiner. You know that, right?
Eric: No, I just don’t want to waste …
(James interrupts Eric’s talking.)
James: Have you ever heard of Henry Schmidt, Eric? Nah! This guy was from Brownsville, Texas, and was a gifted pitcher. In his rookie year, he played for the Brooklyn Superbas during the 1903 season, and he …
Eric: What the hell does this goddamned baseball player’s story have anything to do with us? We might as well have just stayed at home and stuck our thumbs up our asses.
(James looks at Eric intensely for moments. There is a momentary tension. Then, James starts talking again.)
James: In his first year, he won 22 games. …
Eric; Whatever! I’ve never heard of him!
James: That’s the point! He could have been a baseball hall of fame, but he sent his manager his second season contract unsigned with a note attached to it, saying, “I do not like living in the East, and I won’t report to the coach.” After that, he had never played another game in the Majors.
(Eric shows his disbelief and raises his voice.)
Eric: Why? Did he screw like that?
James: Why? Because he knew he had to walk away. Because some voice deep inside him was telling him, “It’s time now.” Maybe you have the same voice as his telling you that it’s time to leave.
(Eric suddenly seems to understand what James was trying to say.)
Eric: No, it’s not like that. I just hate wasting …
(James waves his hand and makes a gesture to tell Eric to shut up.)
James: Why don’t we do what I said when we first got here? Be quiet and patient.
Eric: What if that doesn’t work?
James: Then we wait some more!
Eric: Yeah.

Silent falls between them. Gradually, the sun has been moving across the landscape, over the willow trees by the river. Two men have been fishing all day without any bites.

[clair]

Is Henry Schmidt’s story a real one? if so, then that will be a good lesson for all of us to learn, surely includiing Eric.
_________________
This dark
Ceiling without a star

[[clair]]

Is Henry Schmidt’s story a real one? if so, then that will be a good lesson for all of us to learn, surely includiing Eric.
_________________
This dark
Ceiling without a star

[温暖的水獸]

[[温暖的水獸]]

[温暖的水獸]

"Migod, there is no one more dangerous than the storyteller."

-- E. L. Doctorow, City of God

I stole this quote from Professor Literature.
_________________
舌頭那匹温暖的水獸　馴養地在小小的水族箱中　蠕動
那獸說：是的 我願意

[[温暖的水獸]]

"Migod, there is no one more dangerous than the storyteller."

-- E. L. Doctorow, City of God

I stole this quote from Professor Literature.
_________________
舌頭那匹温暖的水獸　馴養地在小小的水族箱中　蠕動
那獸說：是的 我願意

[ericcoliu]

You have good material of telling a story about a whiner. However, some of the dialogues do not flow naturally and there are a few unnecessary script instructions.

What follows is my take on your story:


Eric: Fuck! We haven’t had any bites since early this morning.
James: Just be quiet. Be patient.
(Eric glances at his watch.)
Eric; Holy shit! Now, it’s almost 6 pm. James, we’ve spent the day here with nothing. Can we call it a day?
James: You’re a real whiner. You know that, right?
Eric: No, I just don’t want to waste …
(James interrupts Eric’s talking.)
James: Have you ever heard of Henry Schmidt, Eric? Nah! This guy was from Brownsville, Texas, and was a gifted pitcher. In his rookie year, he played for the Brooklyn Superbas during the 1903 season, and he …
Eric: What the hell does this goddamned baseball player’s story have anything to do with us? We might as well have just stayed at home and stuck our thumbs up our asses.
(James looks at Eric intensely for moments. There is a momentary tension. Then, James starts talking again.)
James: In his first year, he won 22 games. …
Eric; Whatever! I’ve never heard of him!
James: That’s the point! He could have been a baseball hall of fame, but he sent his manager his second season contract unsigned with a note attached to it, saying, “I do not like living in the East, and I won’t report to the coach.” After that, he had never played another game in the Majors.
(Eric shows his disbelief and raises his voice.)
Eric: Why? Did he screw like that?
James: Why? Because he knew he had to walk away. Because some voice deep inside him was telling him, “It’s time now.” Maybe you have the same voice as his telling you that it’s time to leave.
(Eric suddenly seems to understand what James was trying to say.)
Eric: No, it’s not like that. I just hate wasting …
(James waves his hand and makes a gesture to tell Eric to shut up.)
James: Why don’t we do what I said when we first got here? Be quiet and patient.
Eric: What if that doesn’t work?
James: Then we wait some more!
Eric: Yeah.

Silent falls between them. Gradually, the sun has been moving across the landscape, over the willow trees by the river. Two men have been fishing all day without any bites.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

You have good material of telling a story about a whiner. However, some of the dialogues do not flow naturally and there are a few unnecessary script instructions.

What follows is my take on your story:


Eric: Fuck! We haven’t had any bites since early this morning.
James: Just be quiet. Be patient.
(Eric glances at his watch.)
Eric; Holy shit! Now, it’s almost 6 pm. James, we’ve spent the day here with nothing. Can we call it a day?
James: You’re a real whiner. You know that, right?
Eric: No, I just don’t want to waste …
(James interrupts Eric’s talking.)
James: Have you ever heard of Henry Schmidt, Eric? Nah! This guy was from Brownsville, Texas, and was a gifted pitcher. In his rookie year, he played for the Brooklyn Superbas during the 1903 season, and he …
Eric: What the hell does this goddamned baseball player’s story have anything to do with us? We might as well have just stayed at home and stuck our thumbs up our asses.
(James looks at Eric intensely for moments. There is a momentary tension. Then, James starts talking again.)
James: In his first year, he won 22 games. …
Eric; Whatever! I’ve never heard of him!
James: That’s the point! He could have been a baseball hall of fame, but he sent his manager his second season contract unsigned with a note attached to it, saying, “I do not like living in the East, and I won’t report to the coach.” After that, he had never played another game in the Majors.
(Eric shows his disbelief and raises his voice.)
Eric: Why? Did he screw like that?
James: Why? Because he knew he had to walk away. Because some voice deep inside him was telling him, “It’s time now.” Maybe you have the same voice as his telling you that it’s time to leave.
(Eric suddenly seems to understand what James was trying to say.)
Eric: No, it’s not like that. I just hate wasting …
(James waves his hand and makes a gesture to tell Eric to shut up.)
James: Why don’t we do what I said when we first got here? Be quiet and patient.
Eric: What if that doesn’t work?
James: Then we wait some more!
Eric: Yeah.

Silent falls between them. Gradually, the sun has been moving across the landscape, over the willow trees by the river. Two men have been fishing all day without any bites.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[christine]

[[christine]]

[dundas]

[[dundas]]

[christine]

[[christine]]

[hahaview]

[[hahaview]]

[christine]

[[christine]]