Chuck Wendig’s Fiction Challenge this week: So, given all the hullaballoo with Clean Reader (“read books, not profanity”) this week, I thought a flash fiction challenge in pure defiance had some meaning.
Thus: I want you to be inspired by that debacle. I want you to write filthily.
Or write about filth. Sex, profanity, perversion. Fiction or meta-fiction. Any genre.
In some way, take something from the discussion about censorship and profanity and vulgarity and sex and — well, throw all that stuff into a blender, whip it up, and see what foamy frappe belches out into your story.
“So Chuck wants me to write something dirty.”
“You know Chuck? Terrible Minds?”
“Well if he has a terrible mind, no wonder he wants you to write something dirty.”
“No! I didn’t say he had a terrible mind – Terrible Minds, that’s the name of his blog?”
“Why would anybody name their blog that? Terrible Minds..well gee, wouldn’t that make people think there were terrible things happening over there?”
Blank stare. “What was the question?””
“Well, uh, should I? Write something dirty? Well not dirty exactly – profane – er, ah, stuff with swear words in it. Y’know?”
“Sounds like a terrible mind at work to me…”
“No man, it’s about censorship.”
Rolls eyes, sighs and taps foot.
“You writers are always so worried about being censored. I mean, what the hell’s your problem? You think people are lying awake at night just devising methods to squelch you?”
“It’s been known to happen.”
“You never heard of book burning? You never heard of book banning? What about the Salem witch trials?”
Yawns. “People say all kinds of things on the Internet, doesn’t mean they’re true.”
Pulling hair. “You’re really not helping.”
“It gets weary you know, being your enabler all the time.”
“Enabler? You? The only thing you enable me to do is beat my head against the wall.”
Stares curiously at a hangnail. “Then why do you keep coming back and asking for help?”
Grits teeth. “You kind of owe me.”
“How the fuck do you figure?”
Shaking fists. “I give you life.”
Smirk. “You think anybody else hears your squeaky little voice yammering in their ear? Ah—no!” Whining. “Come on! Help me!”
Sighs. Sighs harder still. Throws up hands. “Fine. Sure, do it.”
“What’s the matter, yes not a good enough answer for you?”
Frowning and scratching head. “What should I write?”
“How the fuck should I know? You’re the writer. I’m just the lowly editor. I’m just the voice of reason when you’re totally out of control, which by the way, you are most of the time. I really don’t even know why I talk to you at all.”
“What if people get upset?”
“What if people don’t like me anymore?”
“Let’s be honest, how many people really like you anyway?”
“Good point.” Thinking. “Okay…once upon a time there was a fucking…”
“Maybe you should use fornicating.”
Frowns. “Okay, once upon a time there was a mother fornicating…”
“No, don’t use mother, you could offend mothers and mothers shouldn’t be offended.”
Heaves a sigh. “Okay, once upon a time there was a non-gender-specific fornicator who…”
Looking up and frowning. “Now what?”
“I think there’s this app you should download…”