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2001-04-09
Well here it is, the seventh installment of my porno-biographical portrait of my feelings about relationships. The last installment�such a relief to have it behind me. Now I can really go about raising the tone around here. I intend to be merciless.
Since I started spreading thanks around, it would be too soon to stop and still keep a good conscience were I not to mention my friends Chris, Margaret, and flotsam, all of whom helped me in the writing of �Girls School,� starting with whatever week it was that Alec Baldwin as �The Shadow� was failing to fill seats at the old Sak 57 movie theater, which was where I read Chris the first version of the spanking scene�I�d written it that day at work, in my notebook. Then I didn�t do much of anything on the piece (why I use this term I do not know, perhaps I am from Europe) for awhile, until Margaret decided that she and flotsam and I should join a lesbian writers workshop together; which is what we did.
In fact, I remain most gratefully indebted to flotsam for her excellent suggestion of a key paragraph break within the spanking scene. I see now, from the distance of some years, that the whole piece (I am like Picasso) is riddled with imperfections, but at the time I didn�t think so AT ALL, or else I wouldn�t have accepted your valuable contribution so rudely.
It is my new dream to acquire a copy of my friend Margaret�s great short story, �The Happy Medium,� which she wrote during that same workshop, which the three of us (eventually, only) attended over the course of several Monday nights just outside Central Square. The other day I was thinking about the woman who �taught� it, the one who lived in some bucolic suburb in her ex-girlfriend�s mother�s big old house�with the mother, the girlfriend having left. She�d written about a woman in a room with a view of some big old tree, and when I suggested she change a pronoun the whole sordid story came out.
You know what, I�m right. I�m raising the tone around here.