Another great Meetup at my favorite LA writing spot, The Hatchery Press. The exercise today was to write for 30 minutes using the first sentence of a different literary work as your prompt. No surprise – I wrote about hookers (:
(Prompt is from David Sedaris essay: Chicken toenails, anyone?)
I have to go to China.” I told people this in the way I might say, “I need to insulate my crawl space” or, “I’ve got to get these moles looked at.” That’s the way it felt, though.
That’s because I work at a “restaurant” called Chyna – except spelled with a “y.” We sell late night dim sum and booze. It’s a place where strong drinks fool boys into thinking they’re strong men. Where dishes, dumplings, dresses, skirts, legs, egg tarts, breasts, eyes, hair parade up and down the spaces between barely lit booths looking for takers. I look hungrily, more than I want to, and think how they all just want to be bought and consumed. Disgusted and aroused, I continue getting dressed for work – wondering who were the real tarts here – and if I’d take one home tonight.
(And after I went for icecream with YA author Kelly B. (: