in the next 2 or 3 years and not run out of character names; cos today at the hospital office i filed away all the info for the incoming class of chaplain interns. some of the highlights (and there are more):
2. Alegria Albers
3. Jack Brace
5. Shayne Flowers
9. Chevy Spink
10. Bong Yang
15. Eunice Awino
16. Kollin Hogan
17. Junker Wong
18. Flavia Roach
Eunice is in kenya right now so there's no way to confirm it, but the suspicion within the office is that her name is actually pronounced A Whino. which is almost too explicit: it's like a Catch-22 name.
Alegria Albers is just beautiful; definitely she has had a lilting concerto written for her by a tortured autistic wunderkind from austria or romania or somewhere.
now that i am 30, my age prohibits me from commenting on the name Bong Yang without
a) sounding like the faux-cynical stoner of my late 20s who deliberately mis-pronounced it Ambi-ition or
b) dating the fuck out of myself by making a 16 Candles No More Yanky My Wanky the Donger Need Food reference.
Flavia Roach is a woman, and a dignified one. which is a very good thing as it will save her from the unsavory consequences of being mistaken for Flavah Roach, the roadie who stole off with the cooler containing the entire supply of nicey-nices for Too Short's west coast tour.
9 comments:
On the name tip...
I've been meaning to tell you for two weeks now--I met a woman who is honestly named...
TWINKLE STAR.
I have yet to have the guts to ask her if her last name is Box.
just thought you might like to know.
Also--I have three "gigs" a week now--I read Tuesdays in SoMa, and Wednesdays and Fridays in The Richmond. Sweet ass.
And here I am on the other side of the spectrum, writing stories with blanks and symbols where names should be until I know the characters well enough to choose a name for them - something appropriately plain or striking to their personality.
Like this woman I once worked with named Maryjane (spelled just like that) whose parents were hippie potheads. She was an uber conservative republican.
Also I think I might have just found a clue as to why I prefer to name the real people in my life with just letters and symbols:
I.
M
J*
RCU
Or maybe it's just a carryover obsession with shorthand and acronyms from my prior career as a corporate whore.
Also, I deleted and reposted my comment because I misspelled pothead.
Maybe I am a forgetfull pothead?
Maybe not.
hi mark.
it's me, Benji. you're long lost
intramural rival. i'm coming up
to seattle tonight for a bachelor party. nothing planned but would love to hang out. i'm in portland now. still fat. wanna hang out?
call me 917.678.8891. serious inquiries only.
So since Davey's been doing the WFNM thing, I'm sorry that you've bourne the grunt of all of my freaking out-slash-writer's block. That being said--hope you like my response to the "ass poem"--just posted my rough draft of the Jazz piece on my blog. Here's the premise: I picked 40 mof my favorite words off of a Jazz glossary and wrote a sentance about each of them. Then I printed them, cut them out, and arranged them in an 'order'. I took your Charlie Parker story and attempted the same feat backwards, as apparently I don't have the skill to try it the other way 'round. I'm noticing though--like with this peice and the last big one, COGB, things are starting to sound better idealized; that's no crime, is it?
Mark!
Yes, let's hang out as though we've been in touch over the last few weeks.
My days off are Wednesday and Thursday, and I don't work until 10p on all the other days so... let's sit in the sun somewhere soon.
206.240.4120.
I know we spoke briefly the other day in my sleep - all I remember is that your phone disappeared into that dark cloak of darkness, and then I went back to sleep.
Wow, I applaud your name-stealing moxie in the service of art. No one deserves to steal names more than you.
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