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Describe a stack of paper.

by pkej
Posted to Exercises, Setting on Mon Dec 10, 2001 at 10:59:34 AM PST
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This is an exercise in imagination. Write something about a stack of paper.

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Describe a stack of paper. | 19 comments (19 topical, 0 hidden)

Another Ream (3.00/2) (#9)
by Anonymous Writer on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 07:02:05 PM PST

500 sheets 80gsm artic white paper. The bread and butter of any office. He picks it up and tears open the packet in one movement, lots of practise, and then drop it in the printer tray.

Each sheet 210mm by 297mm, 4.9896 grams of potential. It could become anything. At 250 words per page that's 125,000 for the ream. Maybe the first page of the novel he is always about to write.

"This needs some work but shows strong potential." That's what the publisher would say after reading it. Call him in for a meeting, offer the services of his company to add some polish and remove a bit of the cruft. He dreams for a while how he would leave the mind numbing temp job behind. One day...

The printer fires up. Out comes another memo.

Another ream is opened and shoved in the next printer tray.

writing to break through, or enhance, the mundane (none/0) (#10)
by Emmett on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 08:47:55 PM PST

This seems to be an exercise in attempting to write. At this hour, late as it is where I am right now, the copy-person sums it all up for me. Staring at this screen, I am entranced by the glare of the space around the thin black words. So it is in the words where I have found relief.

[ Parent ]

: A writer, writes. (none/0) (#15)
by Monkeymind on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 10:41:48 PM PST

The stack of paper idea reminds me of a scene in "Zen at the art of motorcycle maintenance". This is from memory and it has been a while, so the details...
The narrator is teaching a class on creative writing.
First class: Gives the assignment to write a piece on the local town. One student has nothing to show the next week. "It was too big, I couldn't decide what to write". He is set just the main street to be the subject.
Next week, same response. "Too much, didn't know where to start" Just write about the library.
Next week same thing.
"Sit in front of the first brick of the bottom row on the front of the building. Describe it to me. Then go to the next. Continue until you have 500 words, then hand it in"
I am trying to get into the discipline of writing each day. Something. Anything, really. Scene descriptions, character impressions and the like. Writing is as much about discipline and slog as it is about inspiration.

[ Parent ]

ooh, the dreamer (none/0) (#11)
by janra on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 09:02:32 PM PST

I know about those dreams... "I could do that," I think, then never get around to it.

Well captured.

--
Who needs to be big and burly when you can just apply physics?
[ Parent ]

Ideas are easy. (none/0) (#12)
by Monkeymind on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 09:37:04 PM PST

Thanks. (That was me; I just signed up for an ID. No really it was.)

I often herd the comment "Anyone could do that" or "I could have done that" usually applied to 'modern art' pieces while at College. My usual reply was "Yes, that is true but you didn't and they did."

My point being that the conception of an idea is the easiest part. Actually doing something concrete about its production is the far harder part.

[ Parent ]

that's a great reply (none/0) (#13)
by janra on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 09:46:34 PM PST

Mind if I borrow it? ;-)

I know exactly what you mean. That's why I finally made this website - so much thinking that "I could do better," so I tried it.

Most of the things I just daydream about but never actually do involve me being extroverted. I can be quite chatty, but put me up in front of a crowd that I can see staring at me and I freeze up. Luckily the internet doesn't count because I can't see you readers staring at me. So naturally my dreams are about doing stuff like that successfully. One of these days I'll go to toastmasters. Honest...

--
Who needs to be big and burly when you can just apply physics?
[ Parent ]

No probelm but (none/0) (#14)
by Monkeymind on Sun Oct 06, 2002 at 10:11:09 PM PST

After reading the last paragraph I would change it to:

My point being that the conception of an idea is the easy part. Actually doing something concrete about its production far harder.

Simply for the reason that it flows better. If only you had a chance to edit your life like the word on the page...

[ Parent ]

: The What-if mentality (none/0) (#16)
by Pedestrian on Tue Aug 19, 2003 at 10:02:18 AM PST

-If only you had a chance to edit your life like the word on the page...
I'm thinking about writing an article based on this comment. It's one of the most profound things I've read about being a writer. Why didn't I think of it? ;)
What are your ideas on this?
Rebecca

[ Parent ]

The stack (3.00/0) (#18)
by hellish on Fri Feb 06, 2004 at 09:02:40 PM PST

There it was, waiting for him as it always was. He was traveling on the astral, where though t is reality, he likes it better here. Back to the stack, it wasn't really a stack, but he liked the iconography. It was a way to organized information. He thought about his journal and concentrated on the stack, in a instant it had rearranged. There was his journal, he shoved it into his backpack and with a thought was gone, off for the nightly observations.

www (3.00/0) (#19)
by baozhier on Fri Apr 27, 2007 at 12:35:41 AM PST

A story... (1.00/2) (#3)
by Anonymous Writer on Tue Jan 22, 2002 at 07:35:22 AM PST

I printed out a write-on.homeip.net.
It ammounted to a quite large stack of paper.
A stack of bad wannabe poets.

: Deserves no response, but... (3.00/2) (#4)
by Archer on Mon May 13, 2002 at 08:21:47 PM PST

Every good writer started out as a bad writer. At least people here are making an effort to help themselves & each other to improve at something they enjoy. Do you think all that's involved in creating an amazing piece of writing is learning to type? What's the point of making a comment like yours? To discourage people; maybe to make someone feel a little worse about themselves? I have a funny hunch that we're not going to be seeing any spectacular work out of you in the near future. Thanks for the input, now piss off.

[ Parent ]

Noone? (none/0) (#1)
by pkej on Fri Dec 14, 2001 at 04:56:06 AM PST

Well, I'll try to post my own idea for this workshop monday morning. I'm afraid it can get pretty large. I guess it could form the basis of a serial, kind of a column where the basic premise is finding things in the outbox/inbox.

Not a good premise really.
--
When in doubt,
turn around,
cry and shout

spdyvkng - my homepage

: Not quite what you asked for... (none/0) (#2)
by ana on Fri Dec 14, 2001 at 08:10:01 AM PST

Well, I wrote a poem on a similar theme once:

Blank Book
While searching for I knew not what, a treat:
I found ``The Tale of Life'' on Bookman's Rig.
Read fifteen different versions, obsolete,
of courtships done in parlour, breeches, wig.
Then many empty pages, chapters mute,
describe in vacant eloquence the way
to find consent, sans drawing room and lute;
to civilize desire, to tame the play.
To parse the hints, the unintended signs
of love, in these enlightened, freer times;
to ponder in between unwritten lines
the accidental consequence of rhymes.
The rules, well known to those who know them well,
but writ by each, the rites of his own spell.
Comments are welcome.
Ana

Exploring dark places since last Thursday
[ Parent ]

Attempt. (none/0) (#5)
by Anonymous Writer on Wed Aug 07, 2002 at 07:16:43 AM PST

A stack of paper, eh?

"I didn't expect a stack of papers half a metre high in the middle of the garage — I expected a car. At the bottom were large sheets of coloured construction paper, followed by a thick layer of yellowed newspaper, a layer of ordinary writing paper, then a layer of stationary, and finally, on the very top, a layer of post-it notes three pads thick. There were carefully stacked, only a few bits of newspaper and crinkled writing paper sticking out from the otherwise straight pile. The masthead of one of the errant newspaper pages said it was from 1972.

"'Course, that made me wonder why they were all there. Maybe she was a neat-freak. Maybe she had plans for a sinister paper-mache (sp?) project. Or maybe she got bored one day…"

: Or (none/0) (#6)
by whojgalt on Wed Aug 07, 2002 at 09:52:02 AM PST

He is obsessive, to the point of sickness, about keeping every bit of information he has ever come across and every thoguht he's ever had. And about organizing it. The construction paper is his childhood drawings, then the newspapers, then the layers of things he's written as an adult, and every correspondence he's received. The Post-It(TM) notes are all covered with writing, his and other people's. 
And somehow, if he wants to find a specific piece, he knows right where to find it. Kind of like an obsessive savant. That story about the cat being caught in the tree on Elm street in 1972? He goes right to it - after you help him lift the stuff on top of it.

Now put him deep in the bowels of the Pentagon, at least 5 layers of walls between him and the slightest breeze of outside air. And he's reading all our e-mails.

His office floor is covered several feet deep with paper and manila folders on the bottom, large reels of magnetic tape in the next layer, then a layer of 5-inch floppies, then a layer of 3-inch floppies, finally a layer on top of CD- and DVD-ROM's.

His boss comes in and asks "What can you tell me about that John Smith that is running against congressman Quisling this year?"

Just a thought.

[ Parent ]

Stack o' Paper (none/0) (#7)
by SkipKent on Fri Sep 13, 2002 at 10:01:56 AM PST

Bills, bills, bills. Christ-o-freakin' mighty what a mountain of bills! I can't pay them, but I try to take care of them, pressing them flat between the pages of the old family encyclopedia to get all the wrinkles out and then piling them into stacks arranged according to state of origin. I arranged them by color at first, but the predominance of white made that extremely uninteresting. Right now Georgia of all places is winning. That's where all the collection and credit firms are that operate out of trailers and cater to deadbeats like me.

"Wait a minute."

"What?"

"You're writing this stupid thing in the first person, and you know I hate that."

"That's true," Skip said. "And come to think of it so do I. You caught me. Is this better?"

Skip^2's eyes narrowed. "Just watch yourself, okay? Then I won't have to."

"Fine."

Skip sat a while, trying to regain the flow of writing something about a stack of paper, but the flow had flown. He clicked 'Preview' to admire his work, tweaked it a bit to nip the unnecessary saidisms and then hit 'Post'.

: Heh, I liked that! (none/0) (#8)
by gitm on Fri Sep 27, 2002 at 01:20:49 AM PST

Well done Skip,
I liked that a lot - very humorous (sp? funny anyway). More 'you had to be there' humour (the saidisms reference for example) but still I got a chuckle out of it.
Regs,
Gitm

--- This space for rent.
[ Parent ]

An attempt (none/0) (#17)
by Anonymous Writer on Sat Sep 20, 2003 at 09:07:19 AM PST

They were yellowed with age. Sheaf after sheaf of the sum of someone's life as their God had chosen for them. Ama brushed the edge of one carefully, this stack was one of the highest and oldest she'd come across and she couldn't help herself, she had to just... touch it.

The sum of a life, twenty four inches high, written in deep green ink and tiny letters on paper thinner than a butcher could carve off meat.

And this stack was of Elanor of Ashall. The First Queen.

Ama blinked back tears of awe. This was what being a Librarian was truly about.

~Willow

Still deciding about joining.

Describe a stack of paper. | 19 comments (19 topical, 0 hidden)