Parallel Slalom

The project 'Parallel Slalom' is a mode of simultaneously writing 'parallel' stories by two authors on a previously set theme, chosen via a specific procedure. During the eight years of working on this joint venture, Ogurlic and Jurkovic have written more than a hundred parallel stories. This project gave birth to two books; 'Parallel Slalom' (ICR, 1989), and 'The Most beautiful Stories - Parallel Slalom 2' (Tiskara Rijeka 1993) and to a homonymous theatre production by Rijeka's ensemble 'Otvorena Scena Belveder'

Ogurlic '85

ONE DAY IN LIFE OF A WRITER

The writer wakes up around 10. Then he has breakfast (1). After breakfast he usually glances at his watch, and is usually dumbfounded (2). Then he rushes from his flat. On his way, sentences flow on from each other inside his head. He will write them all down, as soon as he reaches the coffeehouse 'Evergreen' (3). He drinks coffee and reads the newspapers (4). He has lunch, parenthetically (5). He gets bored after lunch. He walks. Talks to people (6). The writer spends his evening thinking. Avoiding polemics and similar requitals (7). He has an attitude of dignity on all occasions. Before midnight he catches his tram (8). He sleeps a little. Wakes up in the morning (9). Around ten o'clock.


1. Attention! Some writers do not have breakfast. However, this is a significant writer. He has breakfast on an obligatory basis.

2. Some writers never look at their watches. They do not mind the time.

3. There are writers who dislike The Evergreen. However, that is their problem.

4. Not all the newspapers, only specific ones. Usually, when reading the newspapers, the writer opens them widely. So the world can see him reading!

5. All writers have lunch!

6. A real writer is discerned by having countenance in people.

7. It is better to keep away from those.

8. Number six.

9. Slumberous and morose.

Jurkovic '85

ONE DAY IN THE LIFE OF A WRITER

I overdid the spree, thought Deyna, a Polish emigrant writer and wended his way to the shower.

After a cold shower, he threw a glance at the body of a sleeping secondary school girl, whose name he has forgotten in the meantime, and who layed blissfully stretched over his bed. He drunk a sip of cold coffee from the kitchen coffee machine and phoned the headquarters of the 'Nice-Matina'.

He cancelled the collaboration on the Sunday edition during next month. Deyna left a message to the girl on the kitchen table, packed his things and set out to St Paul Sur Ubaye, a mountain village in which an artist could find peace, so much needed by artists.

Stephanie woke around 11 a.m. and had no difficulties finding the message on the table:

'I am leaving Nice for a certain period of time. My publisher's deadline is approaching. I am not coming back until I write some thirty pages of short stories. Otherwise, I will be obliged to return advance-money.

Give me a call sometime. Love, Deyna'

That same evening, in the loneliness of his workroom, up in the mountain village, Deyna wrote down:

'The only thing worse than waking up side by side with another slut - is sitting in front of the blank paper inserted in the typewriter.'

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