Welcome

Welcome
John William Tuohy lives in Washington DC

George Bernard Shaw, Yousuf Karsh, 1943


Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.

We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.

Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.

I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig. You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it.

Youth is wasted on the young.

Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not.

There is no love sincerer than the love of food.

The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.

There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it.


A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.

being an artist



I miss Richard Brautigan, I miss the hopefulness in what he wrote




Different direction



Blogable films: Fahrenheit 451

Blogable films: Fahrenheit 451: By John William Tuohy Directed by Francois Truffaut Screenplay by  Jean-Louis Richard and  Francois Truffaut Starring Oskar Wer...

SOLITUDE



I NEVER FOUND A COMPANION THAT WAS SO COMPANIONABLE AS SOLITUDE.  Henry David Thoreau



Amen

“Not living your life is just like killing yourself, only it takes longer.”

I love the way this reads



WHEN I WAKED, I CRIED TO DREAM AGAIN. 

                                            Shakespeare






H.G. Wells and Jill the duck billed platypus, photographed by S. Alston Pearl, Melbourne, 1939


On October 7, 1955, Alan Ginsberg read “Howl” (Howl for Carl Solomon) publicly for the first time at ‘6 Gallery’ in San Francisco, and blew the lid off post-WW2 American poetry. Shown here at a reading in SF the following month.


Charles Bukowski drinking on the set of television show “Les Apostrophes”, France 1978





When Hunter S. Thompson died

When Hunter S. Thompson died, his ashes were shot out of a cannon on top of a custom built 153-foot tall tower shaped like his Gonzo logo. The funeral was funded by actor Johnny Depp.



So I write

"The things you are passionate about are not random. They are your calling."
Fabienne Fredrickson 



Isn't this wonderful? its called Marusia in the Library, David Burliuk


When Hunter S. Thompson died

When Hunter S. Thompson died, his ashes here shot out of a cannon on top of a custom built 153-foot tall tower shaped like his Gonzo logo. The funeral was funded by Johnny Depp.


wasted day writing

I spent an entire day writing a short story as it came to my head, sort of an auto writing thing...it didn't work. What I had at the end were three pages of garbage, just garbage. Goddam commas.
That just isn't my writing style. I won't do that again.

So get to writing



Blogable films: ‘The Captain’

Blogable films: ‘The Captain’: Director/writer: Robert Schwentke (Who also directed “RED,” “R.I.P.D.,” and “Insurgent,”) Max Hubacher Milan Peschel Frederick...

Why the world needs editors

Have you noticed that the writing in your local paper, if your local paper still exists, has become just plain bad? Such is the state of newspapers today.  Newspapers are in trouble, not just because they are technologically out of date but also because the best and the brightest are no longer there....they left for the internet ions ago. Advertising dollars went with them and newspapers, which are expensive to produce and distribute, are cutting corners everywhere and the deepest cut of all has been to the much-needed eagle-eyed grumpy editors that once watched over what the news writers produced.  The results are the example below.



Julia Roberts newspaper headline goes viral after an unfortunate typo
By Nick Bond | news.com.au

A newspaper has been forced to apologize after an otherwise glowing interview with Hollywood star Julia Roberts was ruined by perhaps the world’s most unfortunate typo.

The Post-Journal of Jamestown, New York, ran a weekend feature on Roberts, 51, looking at her current career renaissance more than 30 years after her first film role.

Their headline? “Julia Roberts Finds Life And Her Holes Get Better With Age.”

Oh dear.

 A day later, a retraction — in much smaller font than that attention-grabbing headline.

But it was too late. The errant ‘H’ had already given Jamestown’s Post-Journal perhaps its biggest international readership ever, as effusive praise for Roberts’ “Holes” swept social media.

“With age comes more complexity of possible parts,” Roberts had told the Associated Press in the new wire interview that the Post-Journal had published.

“You know, I’m happy and I have fun at home, so it would take a lot for someone to say: ‘Look, you can play this part where you’re happy and have fun.’ Well, I just do that at home!”


I saw that my life was

“I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I wanted.”

Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums



A whole lotta soul has John Steinbeck

A KIND OF LIGHT SPREAD OUT FROM HER. AND EVERYTHING CHANGED COLOR. AND THE WORLD OPENED OUT. AND A DAY WAS GOOD TO AWAKEN TO. AND THERE WERE NO LIMITS TO ANYTHING. AND THE PEOPLE OF THE WORLD WERE GOOD AND HANDSOME. AND I WAS NOT AFRAID ANYMORE.






William Faulkner

In 1932, William Faulkner was offered a $500-a-week contract ($8,500 today) to write scripts at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer but didn’t have enough money to send a telegram to answer yes.




Ian Flemming.






When literature goes wrong



In 1890, 60 common starlings were released in Central Park in an attempt to introduce every bird mentioned in the works of Shakespeare to America. They became a pest, and there are currently 150 million of them.

We would



“We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.” - Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast


BUT IN THE NIGHT

BUT IN THE NIGHT HE WOKE AND HELD HER TIGHT AS THOUGH SHE WERE ALL OF LIFE AND IT WAS BEING TAKEN FROM HIM.
- Ernest Hemingway

 


Joy


Leo Tolstoy reading, Ilya Repin


Love Shots: Deadline: 14th December


We are currently looking for plays. Thanks for sharing. All writers invited to submit from all over the world.

After Shorts @ The Canal – 1&2, Shorts @ The Union and The Twilight Hour season 1&2, we are inviting all writers to submit a play no longer than 15-minute, for our next show:

"Love Shots"

The show will have a love theme and will be performed at the award-winning Canal Cafe Theatre, a renowned comedy and theatre venue in London.

A selection process will follow and if your play is chosen, it will be rehearsed and then
staged for 2 nights. Dates 15th & 16th February.
An excellent opportunity for writers to see their work come to life in
front of an audience.

Things to bear in mind:
It has to have a love theme, any type of love
No character limit
Minimal set
Up to 15-minute running time

Please send your short plays to:
 shortsatthecanal@gmail.com




- Charles Bukowski

THE FREE SOUL IS RARE, BUT YOU KNOW IT WHEN YOU SEE IT - BASICALLY, BECAUSE YOU FEEL GOOD, VERY GOOD WHEN YOU ARE NEAR OR WITH THEM.



Aaahhhhh


Watching my characters


Writing


I thought this was interesting

In 1922, Ernest Hemingway was working on a temporary newspaper assignment in Lausanne, Switzerland. Journalism was his day job; at night, he wrote fiction, the thing he cared about most in the world. He was 23 years old. None of his fiction had ever been published. He and his then-wife, Elizabeth Hadley Richardson, lived in Paris, as did F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound, and many other American expatriate artists hoping to become something big.
Hemingway asked his wife to join him in Switzerland for Christmas. She was sick at the time, and she packed her luggage the way you do when you’re sick: in a haze, forgetting useful things you need and throwing in extra stuff that you don’t. She knew how valuable her husband’s work was to him, and so she packed that, too. Every manuscript, every draft, all the handwritten notes for future novels, even the carbon copies, all went into one suitcase. One single suitcase.
At Gare du Lyon, a porter loaded her bags into her compartment. And then, just before the train left, Richardson—who was still under the weather, and had an eight-hour journey ahead of her—dashed quickly into the station to buy some water for the journey. When she returned, one suitcase, the suitcase containing every piece of fiction Hemingway had by that point produced, was gone.

Hemingway didn’t believe his tear-stained wife when she stepped off the train and told him the news. He left Richardson in Lausanne and took the train back to Paris to see for himself.