To My Kind Editor (Old school writing)
I was going through my computer, and I found this letter I wrote for my English class during my senior year in high-school, in the style of a Lemony Snicket "To kind editor" letter. (We had to write about something we always carry around with us.)
To My Kind Editor,
Sorry that I missed our monthly meeting, but, as I was locked in the trunk of a faulty Toyota Prius, I found it quite difficult to scale the entire length of Mt. Everest. I was only able to make it halfway before I had to turn around.
I have finished the teleplay for the next episode of The Gang. But, before I divulge to you it’s whereabouts, I would like to reminisce.
While I don’t carry it around much anymore, I used to carry my first script (for a television show that will remain un-named) called “The New Rat Pack is Back!”/”Sunday Night Live”, the reason being, I had been working on it for 6 years running, and it encompassed 20 notebooks worth of pages. A precursor to The Gang, the characters that you now know and love slowly developed from their early counterparts: Jewel, the spoiled, evil, valley/rich girl is now a smart, talented, witty woman; Micky, the average, “Mama’s boy” type, has morphed into a neurotic, guitar-strummin’, well-meaning “Mama’s boy” type; and Kevin... Well, has always been Kevin.
My earliest writing experience, it seemed like it would never stop. The ending I soon expected seemed to get to seemed to move farther and farther away as I continued writing. And writing. And writing. And writing. And writing. And writing. And writing. And, when it had gotten completely out of control, I had to abandon it. Sure, I tried starting over, but it just wasn’t the same.
I carried it around for many reasons. Mainly because it held hidden messages that would mean disaster if it fell into the wrong hands. But, also, it was very sentimental. It represented six years of my life; Six years of blood, sweet, tears, and the increased possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome. It had been my main outlet of expression, where I could superimpose my feelings on current culture, various emotions, and my favorite songs. It was my heart and soul. I loved writing that script. And it was a blast. However, when it became a chore, I had to give it up. And give up 6 years of my life in the process. I have since given it to RETRACTED, where I know it’s in good, safe, non-treacherous hands.
But I digress...
I have hidden the script, “My Life As a Teenage Swinger (Or, How I Embraced My Love Of Musicals And Learned to Get Down, Get Down, Get Down)”, as well as a gold-plated microphone (to aid in Mr. MacFarlane’s illustrations) in the basement of the old Ravenna High School. To help you in your quest, I have included in this package a compass, a large 2x4, a garden spade, a bull tranquilizer, steaks marinated in a sleeping potion, a flare gun, a violin, and a copy of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
I do hope to see/contact you again soon, but, if I don’t, wait five more minutes. I shall arrive shortly.
With all due respect,
Justin M. Hoskinson
Justin M. Hoskinson
P.S.: The world is quiet here.