Parameter: Sorry, hipsters, but for the purposes of this exercise, it should be a mainstream superhero; one that I will know about instantly. Unless, of course, in your answer you provide a brief bio of the superhero (self-written or Wikipedia only, please).
Expected response time: I will respond to the best (totally subjective) valid answer I see after work tomorrow.
Parameters: One sentence max, though you may semicolon your heart out. And be honest with the details; I can’t be the only person who had a clumsy/awkward first kiss.
Expected response time: By Monday morning.
The other night I was tapping my finger and started singing:
Well, I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
You’re mean to my mother, and you’re worse with my friends.
I could never love a woman as cruel as you.
Well, you say such awful things to wilt my pride.
You say such awful things to make me feel dead inside.
I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
Parameters: How would you describe a cruel lover? Give me a line or two. The lyric can be simple—in fact, should be. This recording will be very bluesy/jazzy. I may not even have my guitar.
Expected response time: Sunday night.
If you had to choose deafness or blindness, which would you choose and why? Your responses will help me shape my lyrics.
Expected response time: End of the weekend.
Tonight’s love song is for a girl named Autumn, a girl I’d like to put under my spell. In one form or another it incorporates all the suggestions I got for lyrics. Special thanks to these bloggers for contributing to my writing process: pygmyalpaca (whose input made me think of a spellbook), j-dubs101, kelltic92, abreathingworkofart (for the love interest’s name), junkverse, and orchid-in-an-oilcan. I hope you enjoy the chugging rhythm, friends. — K.C.
Well, her name is Autumn, and she is my spring:
I flower and blossom when she is near me.
She has a child’s laugh and lips like a sunset—
a face, a voice, a smile, I’ll never forget.
Oh, Autumn, I wish I had a spellbook.
‘Cause I could bring you roses or write you a poem,
but words are cheap, and you’ve heard all of them.
I want to bend your will with a magic touch—
put you under my spell, and you’ll never have enough…
When she ain’t around, I wish I was asleep
‘cause I am sure she’ll be in my dreams.
Take me from this land of light.
A little black magic will make this right.