Friday, February 19, 2010

Resuscitating Supergirl

    Those of you who know me in RL know I've got a little mileage. I've done this, I've done that, I've bought lots and lots of T-shirts.


      Not that I'm a dilletante; I stuck at those endeavors for many years, sometimes satisfyingly so. The first T-shirt I acquired was Girl Reporter.
Superman got the snazzy red cape and kickin' crimson knee-high boots.  Lois Lane got the mousy gray suit.
(As it turned out, I would wear many, many gray suits with regard to the next T-shirt plucked from the Careers 'r' Us box.  Not going there today.  Let's just say it wasn't The Practice or Ally McBeal or ABC's newest entry, The Deep End.  Although some aspects of The Deep End are close. But, as usual, I digress.)
           Never did wear a mousy gray suit as Girl Reporter. Sometimes just the opposite. People tend to tell you things they might not otherwise impart if they're looking down the front of your shirt.
      I bought into Girl Reporter hook, line and sinker. My parents were ink-stained and silver-halide exposed wretches, so it seemed the natural thing to do. I'd learned early in life that a press pass could get you into interesting events for free. Sometimes even a good parking space. Also, I liked to write. Also, I was good at it.
      Sometimes we need reminding of those things we like and those things we're good at, especially if those things begin to become just a job (as Girl Reporter World eventually became for me) or, worse yet, a chore (if somehow a tornado uproots your house and sets it down on the set of The Practice, where you find yourself slogging through briefs and motions that suck all the juice out of your marrow). Oh. Wait.  I'm digressing again. And depressing, too.
      But newspapers are dying. Killed by the combined kryptonite of Cable, TV, the internet, lack of advertisers and production costs.
So I asked a friend who's still toiling with pad and pen to see if she could scrounge up any of my old stories or columns before all goes the way of the dodo.

       I was shocked, SHOCKED! that a couple of hundred are still floating around the archival ether. And when she sent me a few of those, I was shocked, SHOCKED! to discover: Damn, once upon a time, I really knew how to write. With style. And flair. And occasionally even substance.
      Have to learn to get back to that. No kidding.    
 

13 comments:

Gina Rosavin said...

Well, I'd say there's a sign! A good omen. I'd love to see some of those too, you know!

Whether you realize it or not, you still do write with style and flair. Maybe just a *different* style and flair. All the same, glad you got that little reminder.

And it also makes you wonder what the heck else is out there!! O.O

Chelle Cordero said...

Thanks for a terrific chuckle.
For some reason the theme song to The Nanny keeps ringing in my ears... "She's got style, she's got flair..."

Renee said...

Visited your blog for the first time. I can hear your *voice* loud and clear. So keep the words coming.

JL Walters said...

Terri, here are some crumbs what ever that means. Janet

Terri said...

Originally intended to put a few paragraphs into the blog, but decided not to, after all. So I'll give you a couple here. Here are a few grafs from a series of stories about how Westchester County was attempting to raise revenue without increasing taxes:

"In October, about 4,000 members of the Society for the Preservation and Encouragement of Barbershop Quartet Singing in America descended upon Westchester County for three days.
They stayed in Westchester hotels, ate in Westchester restaurants, shopped in Westchester stores, bought gasoline at Westchester service stations, paid admission and purchased souvenirs at various Westchester attractions and admired Westchester leaves.
The leaves were the only things that were free.
The Westchester County Office of Tourism estimates that the barbershop quartet preservers spent $2 million of their out-of-town cash in Westchester County - and most Westchester residents didn't even know they had dropped in."

Remember Carolyn Warmus? Probably not. But a TV movie was made out of the sensational murder she was accused of. Here are a few grafs from that:

"On one hand, Carolyn Warmus is described as someone so quiet that former teachers, professors and the neighbors at her 6-story Manhattan apartment building don't even know her.
On the other, she is seen as unrelievedly perky and energetic, like that chirping voice on the telephone-answering machine at her fourth-floor apartment at 1485 First Ave. in Manhattan with the words: `` Thanks so much for calling. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'd leave your name, phone number, time of your call and a message, I'd be happy to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks so much for calling. Bye-bye. ''
Last week, a Westchester County grand jury offered another picture of the 26-year-old daughter of a multimillionaire insurance executive from a Detroit suburb. A grand jury indictment charged that the computer science teacher in the Byram Hills school district shot Betty Jean Solomon, the wife of Warmus' 39-year-old lover, Paul Solomon.
Warmus is charged with second-degree murder in connection with the 1989 shooting death at the Solomons' home in Scarsdale Ridge Apartments in Greenburgh.
Prosecutors said that after the killing, Warmus met Paul Solomon for dinner and sex at a Holiday Inn in Yonkers. Warmus had become obsessed with Paul Solomon, authorities have said."

These were news stories. Still trying to hunt up some of my columns.

Terri said...

Chelle and Renee! Thanks for stopping by. Chelle, I added your blog to my list and my name as a follower.
Renee, hope to see you in RL soon!

Janet: Seriously? You've never heard of Hansel and Gretel?

Carly Phillips said...

Bread crumbs always help. So does clubbing over the head. Thanks for the reminder. Great blog, glad I'm reminded to come over!

Terri said...

Welcome back. Eventually I'll figure out a way to get Jason Corwin's sexy bare chest up here somewhere. Maybe a gadget?

Liz said...

there is always Brenda Starr

Terri said...

Ooooh. I used to love her. And the guy with the eye patch that she loved. Soooooo hot. Basil St. John. Just googled them to find some pictures and there's a collectible doll of him! But it looks about as whacky as a Jeter Bobblehead.

Kat Attalla said...

Not sure bread crumbs would help. I have kinda been ignoring my computer rhese days. It just reminds me that I have not been writing as much as I should be.

Terri said...

See, Robert A. Heinlein directive #3. Revise, revise, revise. Maybe that'll spark some brand spanking new ideas to get you back into directive #1.

Wendy Marcus said...

Loved your stories. Can't wait to read more!

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