This is a picture book story I submitted to several publishers. It was universally rejected. I like the idea, but after some discussions with friends and other writers see that it might be a stronger story if it's "doing" something rather than just "telling something". I'm working on a rewrite with a little girl who wakes up one morning geared up for the ice cream social at school only to discover to her horror that there is no ice cream. The thought of it all does terrify me. Ideas? Post one by clicking the button at the end of this post.
What if there was no ice cream?
Sundaes would just be another day on the calendar.
If there was no ice cream, ice cream parlors could save lots of money on those little tasting spoons. And ice cream.
Ice cream cones could be used as baseball gloves. But only once.
If ice cream disappeared, Rocky Road would be nothing more than a street full of potholes. Ouch.
If ice cream went bye-bye, hot fudge might work as a topping for spaghetti. Not really.
Without ice cream, birthdays would be celebrated with cake and cottage cheese. Yuck.
Mayonnaise simply would not work as the middle for an ice cream sandwich in a no ice cream world.
No ice cream means no ice cream trucks. And you know what that means. No mouth watering tinkling tunes on hot summer days. Boring.
If ice cream disappeared, so would milkshakes. And that’s just weird to think about.
Freezers would only be good for storing things like vegetables and soup without cold, delicious, ice cream. Silly, huh?
Ice cream hitting the road would mean moms and dads everywhere sneaking big bowls of lettuce when their kids went to bed. And that would make moms and dads cranky. And no one wants a cranky mom or dad.
Without ice cream, chocolate sprinkles might help bald guys look like they have a full head of hair. But not on hot days.
Who would break the news to the guy who invented the ice cream scoop if ice cream was gone?
What about the cows? Everyone knows cows like to brag about making the milk that turns into creamy, yummy ice cream. You gotta always think about the cows.
Do you really think a tuna fish potluck party would be as fun as an ice cream social? Not a chance.
The thought of banana splits splitting is simply too much to bear. The cherry on top deserves better treatment, too.
Okay, there would be no ice cream headaches in a world without ice cream, but that’s the only good thing that would come out of it.
I’m glad I don’t live in a world without ice cream.
Now a world without lima beans, that’s another story.
I write. You read. Everyone is happy.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
The Jonathan West Guide to the Perfect Martini
Despite the fact that I stopped drinking them three years ago, I still believe there is nothing finer than a really great Martini. I know that today is a day of remembrance, but maybe it needs to be a day to slow down, too. I contend that making one Martini (one, only one) and sipping it slowly is one of life's finest ways to halt and reflect. Enjoy.
First things first, a good Martini requires a good kiss.
A good kiss of gin.
A good (though little) kiss of vermouth.
Probably several good kisses on the lips of the woman or man for whom you are making the Martini.
And the most important kiss of all, that silly acronym KISS that reminds us all to Keep It Simple Stupid.
Making the perfect martini is a great art form.
But like all great things, it is pure and simple.
Here goes. Enjoy. And believe me, you will.
1. Take your simple stainless steel cocktail shaker and fill it with as much ice as you can (form follows function with this type of shaker—there is no substitute).
2. Fill this ice filled cocktail shaker half way with a great gin (Bombay Sapphire, Plymouth, Tanqueray Malaca, Boodles, to name a few).
3. Fill the cap of a vermouth bottle with vermouth and dump it in the icy gin.
4. Cap your cocktail skaker and shake it until your hands stick to the outsides because of a build up of frost (this is the most important step – YOUR MARTINI CAN NEVER BE TOO COLD!!!!)
5. Have two stemmed martini glasses ready, and pour your ice cold shaken martini into these beauties (don’t ever think about stirring martinis—the gin will not bruise).
6. Skip the olives, they take up too much room. A twist of lemon peel will suffice and give you something to nibble at the end of your drink.
7. Remember what Dorothy Parker said…
I like to have a Martini
Two at the very most—
After three I’m under the table,
After four I’m under my host.
First things first, a good Martini requires a good kiss.
A good kiss of gin.
A good (though little) kiss of vermouth.
Probably several good kisses on the lips of the woman or man for whom you are making the Martini.
And the most important kiss of all, that silly acronym KISS that reminds us all to Keep It Simple Stupid.
Making the perfect martini is a great art form.
But like all great things, it is pure and simple.
Here goes. Enjoy. And believe me, you will.
1. Take your simple stainless steel cocktail shaker and fill it with as much ice as you can (form follows function with this type of shaker—there is no substitute).
2. Fill this ice filled cocktail shaker half way with a great gin (Bombay Sapphire, Plymouth, Tanqueray Malaca, Boodles, to name a few).
3. Fill the cap of a vermouth bottle with vermouth and dump it in the icy gin.
4. Cap your cocktail skaker and shake it until your hands stick to the outsides because of a build up of frost (this is the most important step – YOUR MARTINI CAN NEVER BE TOO COLD!!!!)
5. Have two stemmed martini glasses ready, and pour your ice cold shaken martini into these beauties (don’t ever think about stirring martinis—the gin will not bruise).
6. Skip the olives, they take up too much room. A twist of lemon peel will suffice and give you something to nibble at the end of your drink.
7. Remember what Dorothy Parker said…
I like to have a Martini
Two at the very most—
After three I’m under the table,
After four I’m under my host.
Friday, September 08, 2006
World Class Hoppers
From time to time, I dabble with writing children's stories. I'll provide many more along the way, but here's one to start for all the kiddos:
One day Kangaroo woke up and he was hopping mad.
The day before a new hopper had come to town.
Up until this point in Kangaroo’s young life, he had been the best hopper on the block.
But now, this new hopper, some kid named Zeke with a pogo stick, was taking the neighborhood by storm.
He had really big feet.
He could jump about three inches higher than Kangaroo.
And most of all, he had bright red hair.
Everyone thought that was cool.
Kangaroo decided he could never talk to Zeke.
They would, Kangaroo thought, always be sworn enemies.
Then one day, Zeke was hopping by Kangaroo’s house on his pogo stick.
At that moment Kangaroo hoped that Zeke would fall off his pogo stick and scrape his knee.
And, as luck would have it, Zeke did.
A crack in the sidewalk outside Kangaroo’s house was too much for Zeke, his big feet and his pogo stick. And Zeke fell hard. Hard enough to make him cry.
Kangaroo felt bad.
Was it his fault? Had he wished too hard for Zeke to fall on his face?
Kangaroo felt so bad, that he put some ice in a towel and rushed outside to see if Zeke was all right.
When he got outside, Kangaroo saw that Zeke was crying. Zeke had scraped his knee and it really hurt.
Kangaroo said, “Here, try this,” and offered Zeke the ice pack.
Zeke stopped crying and put the ice on his knee. It immediately felt better.
Then Zeke thanked Kangaroo and said, “Its hard to always be a hopper. Sometimes I wish that everyone would just let me walk.”
Kangaroo couldn’t believe it. That’s exactly how he felt, too.
Kangaroo and Zeke spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the hardships of being a world-class hopper.
And then they had some snacks (raisins and apple juice), and from the point on they were always the best of friends.
And Kangaroo never once again thought about not talking to Zeke.
And because of their friendship, and all the things they shared they started to train together, and soon were both equal at all hopping.
One day Kangaroo woke up and he was hopping mad.
The day before a new hopper had come to town.
Up until this point in Kangaroo’s young life, he had been the best hopper on the block.
But now, this new hopper, some kid named Zeke with a pogo stick, was taking the neighborhood by storm.
He had really big feet.
He could jump about three inches higher than Kangaroo.
And most of all, he had bright red hair.
Everyone thought that was cool.
Kangaroo decided he could never talk to Zeke.
They would, Kangaroo thought, always be sworn enemies.
Then one day, Zeke was hopping by Kangaroo’s house on his pogo stick.
At that moment Kangaroo hoped that Zeke would fall off his pogo stick and scrape his knee.
And, as luck would have it, Zeke did.
A crack in the sidewalk outside Kangaroo’s house was too much for Zeke, his big feet and his pogo stick. And Zeke fell hard. Hard enough to make him cry.
Kangaroo felt bad.
Was it his fault? Had he wished too hard for Zeke to fall on his face?
Kangaroo felt so bad, that he put some ice in a towel and rushed outside to see if Zeke was all right.
When he got outside, Kangaroo saw that Zeke was crying. Zeke had scraped his knee and it really hurt.
Kangaroo said, “Here, try this,” and offered Zeke the ice pack.
Zeke stopped crying and put the ice on his knee. It immediately felt better.
Then Zeke thanked Kangaroo and said, “Its hard to always be a hopper. Sometimes I wish that everyone would just let me walk.”
Kangaroo couldn’t believe it. That’s exactly how he felt, too.
Kangaroo and Zeke spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the hardships of being a world-class hopper.
And then they had some snacks (raisins and apple juice), and from the point on they were always the best of friends.
And Kangaroo never once again thought about not talking to Zeke.
And because of their friendship, and all the things they shared they started to train together, and soon were both equal at all hopping.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Hello again world
I'm back. Perhaps no one is reading this, but I have decided to resuming my blogging life. I guess I finally decided that I have more things to say. I hope anyone who stops by gets a kick out of something. I plan on posting stories, thoughts, articles, and other stuff running from the kooky to the vaguely intelligent. I hope to hear your thoughts, too. Here we go...
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