Nineteen Eighty Chicken — Part 1
Dear Backer,
Welcome to Draft 14!
Thanks for taking the time to submit your comments and for voting on this week’s survey. The amount of feedback has been overwhelming, and based on the new data, more changes must be made to our story.
The changes are the following: When asked, What is the American Writer’s home state?, this week 61% of you said he should be from California, whereas last week 63% said Pennsylvania. So after adding these new numbers to the averages (*) from the previous thirteen weeks, California now tops Pennsylvania by three points. Congratulations, the American Writer is now from California.
(*) To those of you who keep voting “Venezuela” and push for the creation of a state called California inside Venezuela because “this is fiction and not a “documentary” (did you mean nonfiction?) please know that our main character is The American Writer, and as the name suggests, well… please don’t ask me to explain it to you.
Other changes are imminent as well. The American Writer is now 6’3’’ and not 6’1’’. His hair is “blond like the Vikings of old” instead of “blond like honey.” His girlfriend is blind and not in a wheelchair (which creates all sorts of problems for the part where she judges a fashion show, but hey, this is what the majority voted for, so the majority wins.) The American Writer’s breakthrough story ends up being called “Winter Loins” instead of “Porcelain Breeze” (previously “A Poem To Gareth”) and here I pause to clarify: “Winter Loins” is the title of our main character’s story, not mine. The story — our story — is called “Chicken, Chicken,” a title which 81% of you preferred over my initial suggestion, “And Then There’s You.”
I have also, against my every instinct, added chickens to our story in order to justify the title. I’m thinking chickens could be a symbol for the main character’s self-loathing, or a metaphor for instant gratification in the Information age. You tell me. What can chickens mean if they all end up in some guy’s sandwich? Maybe they symbolize sacrifice: they die so we can live. But wouldn’t that principle also apply to fish and soldiers?
And yes, the story is now told in present tense, which, in my opinion, will cause numerous grammatical anomalies, but once again, this is the story you want to read, and for some reason… whatever… I’m not fighting this anymore. The story is now told in present tense. That’s what you voted for and now it’s done. You’re welcome.
Now, the issue with the main character’s name… I know this has been the key sticking point since the first draft. Trust me, I understand that selecting the right name is proportional to the way you relate to the character, which in turn is proportional to the amount of entertainment you receive from the story. I get it, but I cannot please all of you at the same time and name the character “Robbie” in the first quarter of the story and change it to “Jerome” then to “Aurelio” and then to “Shackleton.” Just like you don’t change your name throughout the day (I hope) the American Writer shouldn’t either.
Also, and I apologize in advance, as of this week, the pool will be cut down from fifty to ten names. Why ten and not twenty, you ask? Because when I was a child one of my favorite shows was MTV’s Top Ten Video Countdown. That’s why I like to do things in tens. I hope my answer is good enough for you, but based on thirteen weeks of experience, it will not be the case. I can already sense that some of you will want to test my credibility and will ask, Which are your favorite MTV videos of the 80’s?
Answer: Thriller (Michael Jackson), Take On Me (A-ha), Need You Tonight (INXS), Every Breath You Take (The Police), Another Brick in the Wall, Part II (Pink Floyd), With or Without You (U2), Jump (Van Halen), The One I Love (R.E.M.), Welcome to The Jungle (Guns N’ Roses), Enjoy The Silence (Depeche Mode), I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2), and Waiting for a Star to Fall (Boy Meets Girl).
Yes, I know, I know, but I can never cut the list down to just ten videos. And yes, I’m aware of the lack of women on the list, but know that Cyndi Lauper, Pat Benatar, Kim Carnes, Laura Branigan and Madonna are in my Top 20, not to mention that one half of Boy Meets Girl is, well, you guessed it. And yes, there are no African American artists, but to be fair, I also did not include any Hispanics, Indians, Arabs, Filipinos, Slavs, Punjabis, and so on. My main concern, now that I’m looking at the list, is the omission of Seven Wonders (Fleetwood Mac) and Valerie (Steve Winwood.) And what about Your Love (The Outfield)? And Alone (Heart)?
And where IS The Cure?
It’s not an easy task.
Lists are fun to share, but I’m not seeking for your approval. This doesn’t mean I don’t care for your opinion. I care. Very much. If you find a place for Aerosmith or Whitney Houston on your Top 10, go for it. Now, Whitney Houston is dead, so I don’t know how she benefits from your choice, but then again, soon all will be dead. Cheers to that.
I just ask for you to respect my list. Please. Because last week when I posted my Top 10 European Paintings between 1850–1873, I had to read dozens of emails about the many ways my mother conceived me after having sex with animals. In my defense, if you saw me in person you’d know I don’t look anything like a raccoon.
Anyway, if the name you suggested for the American Writer does not get chosen, please wait until the final draft before asking me for a refund. Keep in mind I promised to deliver a relatable story — a story that will change American Literature with capital “A” and capital “L” forever. Until you decide on a name, though, “The American Writer” it will be.
Lastly, after flip-flopping quite a bit on the issue, I decided I’m not changing my name to “Lollypop Stradivarius” and I’m not getting a divorce. Your donations are very much appreciated, and without them I could not make a living as a writer, but I need to draw the line somewhere. Plus, I already adopted that crazy cat you picked, even though I told you my wife is allergic, and I already named it, per your childish request, “Penis.” For those of you who keep asking the answer is Yes, when I call him, I say, Come here Penis. You’re a pretty Penis and whatever. So congratulations, and thanks for taking me back to the sixth grade.
With nothing more to discuss, here’s the story.
I hope you like it.
[end of Part 1]
… Would you pay to read the whole story?
