Posts Tagged ‘classical mythology’

Classic Myths and Contemporary Re-telling

Tuesday, May 10th, 2011

I just wanted to pass along this information for those of you in the Maryland/Virginia area. The Writer’s Center is presenting a panel this coming weekend that might interest you!

Open Door Reading: Classic Myths and Contemporary Re-telling

Sunday, May 15, 2:00 P.M.

The Writer’s Center presents a panel discussion with poets Donna Denizé, Nan Fry, and Rose Solari discussing the enduring appeal of classic myths and folktales and contemporary re-tellings of those stories. FREE.

The Writer’s Center  |  4508 Walsh Street  |  Bethesda, MD 20815  |   phone: 301.654.8664  |  f 240.223.0458  |  E-mail: post.master@writer.org

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Most Men Are Too Intimidated To Date A Successful, Educated Gorgon

Friday, April 16th, 2010

This article from The Onion has me howling with laughter. Because I’ve authored a love story about a gorgon for HQN, I’m incredibly tickled by this and grateful to my friend and fellow writer Tom Doyle for pointing it out. A few months ago, The Onion also did a skit about the Minotaur, so I think somebody over there may have a classical mythology fetish!

If you need a laugh, I advise that you read the whole article, but just this opening salvo cracked me up:

Well, another wasted evening, another potential “Mr. Right” walking out of my life. I guess I should be used to it by now, because it’s just so typical: Men will talk all day about how much they value ambition and intelligence in a partner, but when they finally meet a successful, educated gorgon, all of a sudden they head for the hills.

Needless to say, a smart and sophisticated companion isn’t what these men are actually looking for. No, what they really want is some easily impressed mortal who’ll laugh at all their jokes. Someone who won’t challenge their minds or disagree with their opinions. Someone who lacks a visage so terrifying it turns all beholders into solid stone.

I suppose I could giggle, bat my eyes, and absent-mindedly twirl a fanged, hissing serpent around my fingers—but that’s not who I am.

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