They say that starting is the hardest part of a race. Well, below are several starting points for pieces which I might (or might not) finish in the future.
(Really: I probably won’t finish these. Don’t belittle things just because they are in parenthesis. #sidecommentrights)
When I die, I don’t want paper cups at the funeral.
Paper for a Humanities class:
Oscar Wilde’s controversial play “Salome” first opened on the eleventh of February, 1896, and all newspaper reporters, theatre critics, and audience members present agreed: it was terrible piece of work.
Talk at Church:
Hi, my name is Mari Molen. Today I will be exploring the many ways prophets of the Old Testament approach “Faith.”
If Margaret had known that, around lunchtime, she would be whisked away to a world inhabited by sea monsters and vengeful witches, she would have at least eaten breakfast.
According to the Institute of Illvermorny’s Department of Scientific Discovery and Advancement, 1 in 5 Hippogriffs are killed each year through Global Warming (Potter, 186).
Pump it Up (Memoir Edition):
There will be a point (hopefully not in the near future) when I shed this mortal coil, like a snake, rise from my bed and the room and the earth until I drift, still dripping with memories of mortality, into a vast eternity: a startling new adventure waiting to envelop me; and, when that happens, the last thing I want is to have my Beloveds, my Adored Ones, to drive to Walmart, buy horrendous Dixie cups (with those trippy purple and blue designs), then pass them out at the event recognizing my final vicissitude; available all present to fill, ignore, and then throw away in the bin by the door.