CWE – Sportscasters

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Well, I’ve been in full writing mode with my Copywriting job and trying to finish up a book series (scatterdashesbook.com) that I have all but completely neglected this loyal site.

With a new year comes new self promises and I want to do a couple of things: read more and write more out of my comfort zone.

So that means a creative writing example featuring a script! The prompt I was given was “At a romantic restaurant on a busy Saturday night, a guy gets down on one knee and begins to propose. You are a sportscaster doing color commentary of the occasion for a live television audience.”

 

Mark

Well Jim it looks like it’s finally come down to this.

Jim

I know Mark, I don’t think anyone else but Stephen here really saw this coming.

Mark

Truly a moment in the making.

Jim

And there he goes. He fakes dropping a napkin. What a stylish move.

Mark

Very classy. Jim. It’s a move that hasn’t been used in over a week. Probably.

Jim

Right you are. And now as we sit, we watch slowly as Stephen tries to pull the ring box from his pants.

Mark

It looks like his date has no idea what is going on right now.

Jim

I’d have to agree with you, Mark. She is looking very disinterested. Possibly checking one of those social media things.

Mark

You know, I never really got into that social thing. My son likes it though. Always taking pictures and whatnot.

Jim

Great for him. OH! STEPHEN FUMBLES THE BOX!

Mark

Classic rookie move here. With a slip up like that, you’d think this was the first time he has ever done this.

Jim

He recovers quickly though and begins to straighten up. He gets her attention. Just look at that smile, mark.

Mark

Stephen is really beaming. He’s been waiting for this moment.

Jim

He has and now it looks like everything might pay off. He opens the box. My, look at that thing!

Mark

Aren’t you supposed to spend 3 months’ salary on a ring?

Jim

That you are, but it looks like Stephen didn’t get that memo. Maybe it was a tweeter that missed his inbox or something.

Mark

Uh oh. His date doesn’t seem too impressed with it either. She is standing up. Let’s see if we can get a better feed from the field. Jess?

Jess

HI Mark, Jim. Before the dinner, I asked Stephen if he was nervous and after the dropping of the box we can totally tell that he was. When asked if he should be doing this he replied. “Of course, Dinah is the woman of my dreams, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.” Back to you.

Jim

Thanks Jess. Looks like Dinah has thrown her napkin at Stephen’s face, trying to cover his embarrassment.

Mark

That shows that she has some kind of feelings for him.

Jim

That it does. However she seems to be standing up, shaking her head. Stephen is looking around the restaurant almost pleading with Dinah.

Mark

He looks like he is pleading for this moment to end. Poor guy won’t be able to live this down.

Jim

Right you are, Mark. Dinah has now resorted to yelling. Flailing her arms everywhere. What’s she saying Jess?

Jess

Jim it sounds like she is calling him crazy for proposing after a week of dating.

Mark

I’d call it ambitious. You gotta give this guy credit, he is definitely a go-getter.

Jim

Dinah has thrown her hands up in frustration and has proceeded to exit the restaurant in haste. I don’t think she’ll be returning.

Mark

After an insult like that, you don’t ever want to be seen. I wouldn’t be surprised if she moved out of the city altogether.

Jim

It sounds like our field correspondence has met up with Stephen for some last thoughts. Jess?

Jess

I’ve got Stephen here. Stephen, how did you picture this night ending?

Stephen

Well, Jess, you know, I came out tonight and gave it 100%. You know, you picture these things in your mind and you try to get ready mentally and physically but sometimes the other team has different plans.

Jess

Is this going to hamper your chances in the future?

Stephen

Absolutely not. Sometimes you just gotta go back to the drawing board and really look at what worked and what didn’t. I’ll be back next week with a better plan.

Jess

Thanks Stephen. Back to you Jim and Mark.

Jim

Well there you have it. A man with a plan. What do you think could be in store for him Mark?

Mark

Desperate loneliness and sadness, Jim.

Jim

Right you are again. From all of us down here at Olive Garden, we wish you a good night!

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Creative Cover Letter for GameStop

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Gamestoplogo

 

So it just came to my attention that GameStop is in need of a Creative Copywriter.

In an effort to be considered for the position, here is the cover letter I sent them.

What do you think?

 

Games.

Board, video, card, group, and solo. All of these have been a staple in my life for as long as I can remember. It’s gotten to the point where it’s easy to let myself daydream about actually being in a video game.

Take a look in my inventory and you’ll see all of the missions I’ve completed. My strength contributes to my epic abilities as a creative copywriter who likes to have fun and knock out side quests. My high endurance has allowed me to publish two novels, future fiction adventures (a new genre I made up), and I am in the process of writing the third one as I type (I have the extreme multitasker perk).

GameStop has been my lifeblood since I finally got my first Nintendo when I was a late teen (my parents weren’t too keen about them at the time). I would use my upper-level charisma to earn a ride to FuncoLand when I had enough credits. Fast-forward to today and nothing has really changed. I leveled up to my first house within minutes of a GameStop and it has threatened to bankrupt me to no end (I haven’t found the cheat code for unlimited funds, yet).

I’ve been a living, breathing, late night multi-playing gamer for most of my life. I work well with everyone, thrive on criticism, and want to add more experience points to my real life character by being part of the GameStop team.

 

If you’d like to press start on a dynamic individual, I’m available for an interview at your earliest convenience.

 

Thank you so much for your time and I hope to hear from you soon!

 

Until then,

Chris Traister

@christraister

be.net/christraister 

 

I can only hope they find it as clever as I do! 

It’s happening all over again.

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Jeremy_nervous

 

I feel like I’ve been transported back to Jr. high. All those times I asked a girl out and she rejected me and all those times I just wanted to sit in my room and listen to wuss rock and contemplate what I was doing wrong have come back full circle. Except this time it’s not a girl. It’s a job or it’s a publishing company or it’s just plain old life rejecting anything I remotely throw at it.

 

I know, I know. Boo hoo to the poor guy who has a new house and an amazing wife and the best fur babies anyone could ask for. Of course all of these things are spectacular and help me get through the day, but at what point does a man break down? How many “Sorry, you’re not good enough”s can any person take before they lock themselves in their room, with the lights off, a bottle of cheap whiskey and cry themselves into a stupor while listening to Coldplay?

I don’t know because I haven’t reached that point yet. It’s been four months of continuous “You suck”s and although I’ve been close to the breaking point (I’ve drank nice whiskey while listening to sad bastard music, thank you very much) I haven’t completely broken into a stupid mess.

I guess it’s because anything worth having isn’t easy. Chasing your dream isn’t a piece of cake, and when I decided to be a writer I should have known it wouldn’t be a walk in the park (how many more cliches can I fit into this sentence?), but I certainly thought it would be a tad bit easier than this.

I keep having all these mottos go through my head. “Just keep swimming,” “as the road gets longer, I get stronger,” “I think I can, I think I can,” “Be so good they can’t ignore you,” and “I hanker for a hunk of cheese (what? I really like cheese).” I guess these are what keep me going when it gets tough to keep asking out a job on a date. But at least this time around I don’t have a squeaky voice and low self-esteem.

Now excuse me while I got sit in the closet and listen to The Fray while guzzling Evan Williams.

CWE: The Sneeze

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So, for christmas, I got this wicked awesome creative writing book.  I thought it would be fun to start posting them on here as well to expand my blogosphere.  From this day forward my Creative Writing Exercises will be known as CWE (catchy aint it?).

 

For this one, I was given a white box and the phrase – “A sneeze”

 

 

It lingers at the edge of consciousness and reality. It sits at the cusp of the sinus, dangling its feet over the abyss, waiting for the worst moment possible to take the plunge. You know the time. When you are finally talking to that special someone. You go to say a joke and the sneeze JUMPS! You face, realizing the horror, begins to scrunch up, mortifying onlookers and terrifying small children. You panic as you race around trying to find something, ANYTHING, to hide your shame. But alas. As most sneezes do, this one doesn’t end well. Your nose pulls a pompeii and with little warning showers local guests and tasty treats with you bacterial nasal mist. You try to recover your embarrassment, but the damage is done. It’s time to head far away where you can hang your head with remorse and wait for the sneeze to show up again. When you least expect it…

The Hangover Promise

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Ever had those moments, right when you open those crusted over eyes, when you can feel your heart pounding in your skull, that you will never ever drink as much as you did the night before? You swear off all dark liquors, especially those that rhyme with flavormeister, and tell yourself that it won’t happen again. You know, until the next day.

Welcome to the world of New Years Resolutions. Where, in a haze of drunken debauchery, we tell ourselves and anyone who will listen that we swear to break the habits that we have been living with our whole adult life. “I swear I’ll cut back on drinking” right after this mimosa. “I resolve to eat better,” but these deep dish pizzas topped with gummy bears won’t eat themselves, and I just don’t want to be rude. “I’m going to work out,” and walking to the fridge to get said pizza counts as cardio, right?  

Don’t get me wrong, I think resolutions are a great way to get motivated, and I know many have probably changed their life on them, but the staggering amount of people who haven’t is what makes up this little opinion. Also I’m no where near perfect in this category, and that’s why I’ve been doing one of two things these past few New Years:

 

I’ll make one resolution. That’s right. Just one. Last year it was to find a job I loved and the year before that was to read 30 books. I nailed both and at the end of the year, I felt invincible as I shoveled pound after pound of chocolate coated turkey stuffing into my mouth. With one resolution, I feel it’s easier to stay on track. Instead of “I’m going to eat all the health there is to eat AND work out until I can’t feel feelings” pick one or the other, and that way you won’t feel as disappointed at the end of the year when that $8000 elliptical you got is gathering dust and spiders in your patio corner.

 

Secondly, I’ve been known to make predictions. What I do is write down a few predictions of what I think will happen across the year and seal them and put them in a safe hiding spot. After about a week I forget that it exists and when the next year comes around, I suddenly remember I wrote something. It’s fun to sit down with friends and read off what you though might happen over the past year (did the world end? The Cowboys finally make it to the playoffs? Things like that). This way, the only sadness you feel at the end of the year is about how many predictions you got wrong.

 

The New Year is a great time to start fresh, even if it only lasts a few weeks, and for me, well, I predict that I’ll swear off bacon. I’ll never eat it again! You know, until the next day.

Kicking nostalgia in the nose hole

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I’ve found myself drifting back towards playing the video games of yesteryear. I’m not speaking of those games that came out on the original Xbox that still had full 3D environments and 8 trillion bytes per eye blink, I’m talking about your original NES games, and early 90’s PC games. As I was sitting on the couch after one rousing session, rubbing my soon-to-be calloused thumbs, I realized that I was only playing these for one reason.

I wanted to finally kick their ass.

I wasn’t the greatest gamer as a kid. I struggled through every game I ever picked up, and I recall vividly that Kirby’s adventure for NES was the first game I ever beat. And when I say I beat it, I really mean that I helped watch my little brother drop kick King Dedede into the stratosphere. It was soul crushing to play all these games, only to be waylaid so close to the finish line. I was sick of hanging out with my friends, lying through smiling teeth as they gave away the endings to games where I had barely survived the 3rd level.

So you could imagine my eagerness to re-return to these plastic cartridges that kept me tossing and turning at nights, contemplating strategies like a 5 star military general. These games no longer held a sense of nostalgia for me, they had become my arch nemesis, and I was the Mario to their Bowser.

I told myself that I’d finally beat Zelda, or Monkey Island without using online cheats or my little brother. The Game Genie would be secured under lock and key where even Samus couldn’t get to it. It was finally my time, and I planned on destroying every pixel bit by bit until I had emerged victorious through all eternity.

So far it seems that being a good gamer is genetic and it skipped a generation. My thumbs are sore and my eyes are bleeding from staring at the TV for too long. I still haven’t beaten any games.

Then again, the real reason I play any of these old games anyway is for the feeling of nostalgia.

I’ve out grown bad movies

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It finally happened.

For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed watching really bad movies. I think it’s a trait that has been carried on through generations on my father side, because to this day, he still enjoys it.

I like the idea of being able to sit in front o a screen and turn my brain off. To not have to think about what mysteries await me or how someone will finally beat the aliens through an elaborate and intricate series of events that keep you guessing until the end.

I like the idea of being able to veg out and not have to critique a movie based on a book, or get kicked out of a theatre because everyone is tired of my doucheoise expressions of “that didn’t happen in the book” or “the book was so much better.”

I even like the idea of falling asleep in a movie because it is that mind numbing.

So, imagine my surprise when Sunday night rolled around and after an hour and 45 minutes of a movie, I was so disgusted by how terrible it was, that I felt like crying.

It had finally happened.

There was a movie out there so bad that it has caused me to renounce my bad movie watching ways. To stay away from direct to DVD releases and future Scy Fy movie marathons where a crocto something fights a giant dogopus (you know, a dog with 8 arms. Also it’s giant).

Like so many girls who have ruined me for others, I’d like to tip my hat to you, Death Race 3, for ridding me of my ridiculous obsession with all cinema that’s awful. I tip may hat to you, for it was not an easy task (hell, I liked Battleship).

But like all people scorned by those they thought infallible, one of these days, another crappy movie will come along and give new light to the “B-Movie” meaning, but until then, I’ll just have to settle for something less fulfilling: bad TV.