Thursday, November 21, 2013

Writer's Block : Chapter 1: Coffee

This is a short story that I recently wrote, just for fun. Please.. comment, critique, tell me what you think (you can exempt any comments regarding grammer_ ... because, I already know that I'm not an expert of spelling .. and you might be thinking.. but Winter, you were a freakin' English major! Yes.. I was an English major... Enlligh LIT major.. not English spellingmajor) what sense is it in me wanting to write, but never really knowing what other people think of what I write?

So folks, brace yourself...this might be good, this might be bad.. but frankly.. I personally find my stuff funny (sometimes stupid funny) so it could very well be that at the end it.. i will be the only one laughing.
In the beginning it began with a word.... and the word was Fiercely!! 

Fiercely, she scratches her pen on the margins of the page, but no pen marks are made, only erratic indents produced from her frustration are seen.


She frantically searches her purse for a writing utensil - a pen, a pencil, a crayon - not that she has crayons in her bag - but at that moment she feels a desperate need for something- anything in order to write during her moment of inspiration. These urges to write came and went quickly, randomly, and at most times inconveniently when she didn't have anything to write with or on or had no time; it was as if Fate seemed unwilling to let the elements align so all were in favor of her to sit down ... and just write.

Fate had also given her an overly big bag. Well, it was actually a really good friend who had given her the fashionaby huge, black, (Coach) bag for her birthday. But she held the possiblity that it was Fate who had brought her friend to the bag when gift shopping for our inspired writer. Our heroine of a writer believed in the powers that be beyond the material world and imagined that while her friend aimlessly walked the aisles of many a store, for many a day (searching in what might have been distress for the perfect gift) God, the Heaven, Lady Fortuna... showed her the light and led her to the bag.

"Fuck this damn bag!" our writer says under her breath.

Despite frustration, she rummages and sifts through the belongings her bag held: Receipts from earlier in the year. Her Wallet. Gum wrappers with gum in it from God knows when. Birth Control Pills.

Oh my gosh, I've been looking for this!"

A look of delight suddenly brightens her face as out she pulls the MAC 'hush hush' tenderton lip balm she had been looking for nearly a week.

"I thought I'd lost you!" she exclaims.

She then excitedly twists the lid of her balm, lightly dabbs her right ring finger into the heaven sent creation and applies the once-lost lip-ade upon her pucks, shortly thereafter giving quite the loud ladylike smucker. Grabbing her ipod and turning it over it to the mirrored silver back-side, she checks herself to make sure her MAC is properly and with a raised eyebrow, gives her mirrored self a little smile, pleased with the added color to her lips.

It takes her a moment to snap out her moment of vanity as so often happens when she catches a reflection of herself. But when remembering her initial purpose in looking into her duffle of a bag, she renews her search with a determinedly furrowed brow.

Pen, pen ..I need a pen, pen.... I need to write, write.. .. before I lose it, lose it, lose it.. I need a pen

She repeats this line to herself as if it were some kind of chant to evoke the appearance of a pen from out of no where. In her repetition, she becomes so concentrated, she is unaware that she is chanting aloud to herself and almost does not hear a voice speak to her.

"Excuse me, do you need a pen?"

There is a pause as our heroine looks up and seeing a most rediculously handsome face of a man, she becomes wide eyed and lets out one shocked gasped breath.

This guy looks like Michael Vartan!! from ALIAS!! His eyes, his whole look, except for the Starbucks outfit, that he wore - in all my fantasies Michael Vartan never works at Starbucks. Aww, that's the exact same half smile he gave Drew Barrymore in Never been Kissed in that last scene, right before her he ran into that field and gave her that kiss that read "take that Drew Barrymore! take that!... omigosh I LOVE THAT MOVIE!!! 

"....uh...uhmm...uhhh, " she manages to say.

Soon after those sounds are muttered, our distracted writer realizes that they were not very attractive sounds.

I need to calm myself down. Even if a Michael Vartan-ish looking person is right in front of me. I'm so lucky I found my MAC! 

"Are you okay?"the actor look-a-like asks again.

The repeated question almost doesn't register as her mind is still on the fact that the gentleman reminds her of her television boyfriend.


"No ? Do you need a pen? I heard you chanting or something.."


What are you talking? You do need a pen! Tell him you need a pen!

"I mean," our damsel responds embarressed. "No, I wasn't really chanting. I was.. singing this song I heard on the radio only.. I didn't know the words so I kind of just improvised."

Whew! nice save.. good one 

"I see. Well, I have one if you need one..

Our Michael Vartan look-a-like then gives her a smile and taking a pen out of his pocket, he twirls and swivels the pen around his fingers before handing it off to our lady in distress.

"... here you go."

Our writer is immediately impressed (and partly turned on) as her mouth goes ajar in utter wow and she witnesses the pen floo-flaw through his fingers. She immediately has flashbacks of her high school days when she herself had tried to learn the art of pen twirling. Much to her dismay, she had never quite mastered the trick, as many a time her efforts resulted in her pen flying across the classroom, hitting fellow classmates in the back of the head, and embarrassingly having to get out of her seat in order to retrieve her fallen object.

"Wow," she finally says in awe. "you must be really good with you're fingers..."

It takes a second our flirtatious writer a second to realize the idiocracy of her statement.

"... with typing and stuff," she quickly adds.

Whew.. saved myself again 

Our Michael Vartan potential stunt double holds a confused look, as if registering the words our writer had just said. Then realizing the humor in the statement he responds with a slight smile:

"Well I do type pretty fast. -69 wpr"

And with that he gives our damsel a quick wink that was so quick, she questioned whether he had even winked at her.

I think he just winked. I probably blinked at the same time he was winking.. so I didn't get to see the whole wink.. or maybe I'm making this whole thing up because in my Michael Vartan fantasies, he always winks at me. Did he just say 69 ---? 

"Well, thanks..." our writer says trying to calm herself down after that ambigiously dirty remark. "...I'll be sure to give the pen back to you when I'm done... whenever... after all I know where you work.."

"Alright," Michael Vartan's long lost twin replies with a chuckle. "Don't worry about it."

He turns to walk away and then turns around.

"My name is Earl, by the way."

Earl? like.. from the show 'My name is Earl? So he's not Michael Vartan doing some research on being a Starbucks worker for a new role ::frown:: ...Earl ? Earl Vartan? But why would Michael Vartan have a brother named Earl? 

"So Earl... like? the Earl of England?" are future New York bestselling author asked smoothly.

"Something like that."

The Starbucks working Michael Vartan look-a-like again gave his genuine "never been kissed" smile and turned to go back to work. Meanwhile, tapping her newfound pen on the chair our heroine tilts her head and watches him in deep - almost inappropriate- thought as he walked away.


She turns her attention to her blank sheet of paper and for moment, doesn't know where her thoughts are. She looks back to Starbucks boy and suddenly.. inspiration lights. Fate has aligned the elements. She has her pen. She has her paper. She has the time and motivation. So she puts her headphones in her ears, flipping through her ipod playlist she finds the song "You Remind Me" by RKelly and begins to write:

Fiercely, she scratches her pen .....

1 comment:

  1. I'm a self-publisher. Pls access "tatay jobo elizes in books" at I can publish a paperback book with compilation of all your articles and blogs, enough to fit 110 pages, 5x8 inches trim size with color cover, b/w insides. I'm Pinoy, age 80 in Brooklyn NY. My charge or fee: 100% FREE. You merely buy the printed copies at very reasonable price. My email addy is for more details. I think you are in Seattle after going over some of your stories. Thank you and good luck!