In the office (yes, I do have a respected profession beyond this blog) someone set a unique challenge…
1. Write a short story that in some way is connected to you based on this format:
THE STORY SPINE
STRUCTURE
FUNCTION
Once upon a time…
Beginning
The world of the story is introduced and the main character’s routine is established
Every Day…
But, one day…
The Event
The main character breaks the routine
Because of that…
Middle
There are dire consequences for having broken the routine. It is unclear if the main character will come out alright in the end
Because of that…
Because of that…
Until finally…
The climax
The main character embarks upon success or failure
And, even since then…
End
The main character succeeds or fails, and a new routine is established
2. Pick an image or photo that captures the essence of your story.
In essence I wrote a more condensed version of a previous blog post, the one about the letter to Jordan’s cereals: “Why Can’t Men be More Like Snack Bars?”
My submission went like this:
The Snack Bar ConMANdrum
Once upon a time, I used to be obsessed with eating breakfast cereal bars (like, “this girl is going to turn into Tony the Tiger” obsessed).
Every day, I’d power through multiple Kellogg’s bars, if not whole boxes of the sticky bars of milk coated treats.
But, one day my dealer (Mr. Asda Supermarket) well Asda, he only had “Frusli Bars” to offer me. They’re like cereal bars but more fruit, less cereal and more socially acceptable to eat as an adult.
Because of that, I developed an even stronger addition to the new substance. Frusli came in different varieties and kept me going when I needed the energy or strength to haul luggage across the London Underground. They were always there for me (in my bag) and didn’t give me grief when I wanted to eat something.
So naturally, because of that, my dating life went to pot.
Because of that, I wrote to the makers of Frusli, Jordan’s Cereals, with a well-constructed argument that the world would be a better place is men were more like snack bars. I kinda hoped they’d send me their equivalent of the Milk Tray man to help, but instead they sent me a three month supply of their products.
Until finally, after devouring everything Jordan’s had sent me, I realised that I needed to apply my energies into something other than consumption. But also, that stringing a funny tale together can get me free stuff and exposure.
And, ever since then I’m more open and honest with my writing and send more physical letters to the people I want to grab attention from. And trust me, it works.
Originally drafted in October 2019 for later publication.
My Housemate's a Mermaid 