Spinning Spam into Gold
Author Jonathan Franzen of The Corrections fame once wrote that good fiction writing takes what is mean and base and spins that silk (or worse) into gold. (Not a bad analogy for God's creative action, come to think of it).
So with Franzen's comment in mind I greet the usual spam-full inbasket and try to spin it not into gold, but garnet. Or perhaps quartz. Feldspar?
But I'm at a loss. I keep an eye on spam, thinking it may give birth to some sort of poem or comedy such as the unintentionally ironic ("re:How to Get Rid of Spam!") to the gross ("Free Sample of Sceptic Treatment") to the wildly improbable ("re: add inches!"). But it's just plain banal.
Similarly only differently, my screen-writing friend "Ham of Bone" laments that his experience is a thin gruel from which to fashion art. If he writes what he knows he will have written either an elaborate Dilbert cartoon (work) or a portrait of the typical suburban existence (home). That's not to say he can't find compelling material in his home situation; I've told him it is a rich vein. I passed on the warm blogger reception to my post about how he didn't flush the toilet to save money and he was encouraged enough to begin down that road. Urine into gold I suppose.
Anne Tyler, by the way, writes well of the home front, although not comedically, and the latter is how Bone would be presumably be presenting his story. His book could be a cross between "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" and "The Tightwad Gazette" titled "Please Don't Flush the Toilet".
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