Art Is Hard
J. J. Curry Ford gnawed the pencil’s eraser. He twiddled the pencil slightly before tapping the lead against the desk. The following sentence on the monitor leered at him: “I can never love a man who can’t stand the sun.” Yes, you can, J. J. thought, you can because I say you can, not because you say you can’t.
J. J.’s brief research on love collapsed six years ago. “Never trust someone who reads Twilight,” he said to Caroline. “Women who read Twilight want to be stalked, not loved.” He failed to notice the way Edward and Bella’s faces contorted with her chest. J. J. comforted himself in the knowledge that a fresh(wo)man knows nothing about loving what shouldn’t be loved until he saw Caroline make out with Robert E. Lee High’s own two-time sophomore/third-degree felon Simon Mercury.
“I can never love a man who can’t stand the sun.”
J. J. rolled up his sleeves, compared his skin to the walls. He rolled his sleeves down, put pencil back in his mouth. In this draft, J. J. is a bereaved vampire that lost his love to vengeful villagers. Caroline is a mermaid that eventually loves what shouldn’t be loved. He got the idea to use vampires and mermaids after watching Do The Right Thing. J. J. knew better to keep that to himself, until he got a sweet movie deal. He hoped to coax Spike Lee in directing the world’s first mythical inter-species teen romance film. He felt Spike Lee would understand the importance of breaking down cultural and sexual barriers.
“I can never love a man who can’t stand the sun.”
Yes, you can, J. J. thought, you can because I get to say you can.
thehollerbox 