October's Writing Prompt

Subject: October's Writing Prompt October 2nd 2008, 3:52 pm

"What has fame taught you?
Write about a life lesson you learned from a celebrity."

Subject: Re: October's Writing Prompt October 4th 2008, 11:58 am

Hi Kelly.

about these challenges....

does it always have to be with the " I " word in it?

do I have to write something in the first person?

mumble... mumble .... mumble some more Rolling Eyes

Subject: Re: October's Writing Prompt October 14th 2008, 8:51 am

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

this " I " thing is driving me crazy. I know it's the most used word in the whole wide world but ....

but.....

Crying or Very sad

Subject: Re: October's Writing Prompt October 14th 2008, 10:02 am

I refuse to do personal stuff.... but there's the famous " I " here.

Famous Lesson

By Alexandra Riera

Although I will call her Mandy, her real name is to remain incognito in order to protect her privacy and also to protect my balls. You probably know Mandy; she’s youngish and a fully accomplished actress, having won quite a few important awards. I will not go into any more descriptions here because my balls are at stake but suffice to say that although this article is about Mandy, it’s more about a book she was given together with her first award. She confided in me when one night I happened to find her totally drunk at a celebrity’s party. She obviously didn’t tell me about it whilst drunk and half unconscious, she told me about the manuscript at breakfast the following day. I had to take her to my home that night as I didn’t want her to get into trouble with more of the likes of me. I’m a paparazzi and I make a living out of showing people’s miseries more than their happiness. The reason I didn’t gorge on her, picture wise, was because I had a soft spot for her. Up until then she had been the only actress that I had never heard of being drunk or drugged up to her ears so I was naturally not only shocked by her state but also saddened. My bubble had burst.

Anyway, I took her home, put her in my bed and I slept in the sofa like a gentleman should do. The following morning I made breakfast; well, toast and coffee, I couldn’t expect her to have anything else after the state she had been in. She didn’t look well, she had bags under her eyes and she looked as she was about to throw up on my table every two seconds but in spite of all this, she managed to look beautiful wearing my jeans and my t-shirt. For a couple of seconds I fantasised about us being a couple. What I found striking was that she was actually a normal person; well, I knew that, didn’t I? But now I had the chance to see that she was actually human, just like everybody else. She cried. I held her in my arms and she sobbed for a long time. I must say that in a way I would have liked to have had her crying in my arms for ever and ever as it felt really good to hold her but at the same time it drove me nuts. What can a man do with a crying woman? That’s right, nothing!

When she stopped the crying she drank her coffee, and then she told me about the little book. She said it had been given to her backstage right after receiving her first award. A man wearing a fluorescent green suit had handed her the manuscript and told her that she should read it if she was set on following her dreams. She took the manuscript with her but never bothered to look at it until much later, when it was much too late, or so she said, as she was famous by then.

She read the first part of the book when one night she felt as lonely as a rotting peg on an empty washing line. She questioned her so-called friends and adulators and concluded that she was completely alone in the world; if she was ensured monetary gains it was only because other people were living off her, sucking up her life little by little. She wondered what would happen if she weren’t famous; would people still show her they loved her? She opened the section for how to undo things and was surprised at the heading:

It’s not too late, it’s never too late.

The instructions on how to undo things were quite clear.

Burst the Bubble.

At first she had thought it to be a joke and she actually laughed at herself for believing that a book was going to make her feel better.

Time went by and Mandy became even more famous, and with her celebrity status her unhappiness grew in equal parts. One day she decided she was going to try to burst the bubble. She went to the party where I found her and pretended to be completely drunk upon arrival. Her so-called friends wasted no time in offering her all sorts of lift ups, i.e. drugs which she refused out of principles. Her loneliness grew so immense that she started drinking and she eventually lost control as she wasn’t used to drinking. She confessed in tears that she had learned a valuable lesson in life; that friends were only friends out of convenience and that she realised that she was never going to be really happy. I obviously questioned her on that as I saw her so depressed by the time she told me all this that I thought she was on the verge of being suicidal. I offered her to be her friend or at least try to be and offered her my home as a getaway for when things got her down.

You know as well as I know that she should have taken up my offer on the spot, not only because it was a genuine offer but because it was a way for her to at least find an escape valve whenever she needed to loose steam. Well, she didn’t. Do you know what she told me?

“I’ve led a plastic life up until now. Though potentially toxic, I’m harmless.”

And with those words she got up and left my house. She came back two minutes later and told me that if I ever published any of what she had told me she would make sure she'd have my balls for breakfast.

I wonder if she'll have me for breakfast now.... I woulnd't mind.

The end

(973 Words)
© 2008 Alexandra Riera
October 14th - 2008

Subject: Re: October's Writing Prompt October 30th 2008, 10:41 pm

I got something I'm working on for this, but it's not going to be in close to being ready by tomorrow. So, it'll be posted a little late. Crying or Very sad

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