I love words. I love words on the page, words coming out of a mouth. I love words in a movie or play, and I love to hear people singing words.
Here are some of my favorite words:
Rascacielo (It means sky scraper in Spanish) I just like the way it sounds when I roll the 'r.' Try it...rrrrras..cas...sielo. Sweeet, huh?
Sky scraper (technically two words), but who ever thought of that word? I like it because of the visual.
Boulevard / The Ancient One pronounces this, Booolevard.
Present /Because it means so many things...a gift, to give a gift, time and space, to be accounted for, to show and tell, etc...that's an impressive word as I think about it, huh?
I will now write a story using all of these words in order:
KK Said, "SalGal, I'm going to title the book, 'Rascacielo.' It means 'sky scraper' in Spanish. I expect this novel to put me in the 'limelight' since my last novel just missed the NY Times Best Seller List by a 'whisker."
"I fully expect to see a billboard on Sunset 'Boulevard' advertising your latest," replied SalGal. "Then I'll buy you a very extravagant 'present' on Rodeo Drive."
"Good!" said KK, "Just as long as it's not a 'Whirlpool.' I'm boycotting the company because I've heard of their 'sinister' dealings with China. Their CEO is quite the 'prestidigitator' from what I've read. He purports to sell appliances, but is mining 'gold' in China using children!"
SalGal said, "That asshole. Well, he'll have 'hindsight' 'aplenty' when he sees the Wall Street Journal 'blog' posting about the 'catfish' full of gold nuggets that he tried to sneak out of China. What a friggin' 'boondoggle'!"
Hehehe...Send me your story with these words! Or not.
I am responding to this blog post even though I'm not sure what is going to happen. When I go into this to add/edit in my comments I get all kinds of wierd things. There are slants / and brackets > in front of all the main words in KK's post and it has stymied me and caused me to get total writer's block. So, I am making myself do this and here are my favorite words:
I was sitting at my desk, late at night and wondering how I was going to pay the rent on the office. 'Special Investigations', private and secure. At $400 an hour all I needed was a four hour gig and I would be good for the next two months. I was just about to close it down when Tallywhacker, the office rat catcher and guard ran toward the door. My red, six-inch stilettos hit the floor just as he swung the door open and leaned his umbrella against the radiator. He was smooth as Froie Gras and handsome as a baseball player in the moonlight. His black raincoat crinkled as he took it off and threw it over the fake Bouganvilla in the corner. Rude. His whiskers told of three days of mornings with no desire to shave. There were more important things on his mind. I was calm enough to hold a butterfly. My heart went from stone cold to soft as a cheese souffle as he picked me up like I was a rag doll and swept me across the room while serenading me with, 'When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore!' I looked out the second floor window at the promenade on Santa Monica Boulevard. The lights were coming on as my landlord walked across the street and under the streetlamp just below the building. Fuck. He looked down at me and smiled, 'I got the money honey - you got the looks'. It was then I knew that I had married the right man. Serendipity.