Bargaining with the Fates...

A few weeks ago my writer pal Rebecca Knight posted a blog: What Would You Do for a Book Deal? In this blog she makes mention of writers who have died their hair purple (my hair is purple right now) and got tattoos (I already have two) to appease the gods of publishing for their book deals.

Which got me thinking, What would I do for a publishing contract? Shortly thereafter I made the bold statement that I would film a video of me performing my happy dance all over St. Louis.

But then I was called out. Too easy, some said. That's not really a sacrifice, others said.

Then, parachute pants were mentioned.

To which I say, "I accept your challenge!" If parachute pants are required to appease the publishing gods, (you know, other than a stellar plot, strong voice, and unforgettable characters) then parachute pants it is! I'm not one to back down from a challenge, even though I really really should.

I'm finishing up the revisions now and should be on submission shortly after the new year.

As it is written, so shall it be.

Blog Chain Post - The Drawer of Despair

Shaun started the current topic with the question:

What is the silliest thing from a book or short story you've written, and why? It can be a line or a paragraph or a whole page. Anything that you look back at and go, "Say what?"

The drawer of despair. We all have one. Full of written words that should never see the light of day for the sake of humanity. The side effects of spending too much time in the drawer of despair are nausea, vomiting, blindness, and male pattern baldness. Continued writing is the only cure.

In order to answer Shaun's question I dug deep into the drawer of despair and pulled out a short story that I'd written several years ago. A short story that I am embarrassed to call my own, but is the silliest thing I've ever written (and not in a good way.)The short story is from the POV of three teenage boys in the middle of a dungeons and dragons game. The problem with this story is I went a little crazy with the dialogue. I started making myself giggle, and seriously, no good can come from that once I get going.

Draver and Wintuck turned to find a smiling wizard clutching a stack of books hurrying in their direction.
Panting, the wizard came to a stop beside the dwarf. “Whew! Looks like I just made it. So, fill me in on the quest.”
Wintuck crossed his arms and rolled his eyes in the direction of the cave.
The wizard placed his books on the ground and used his hand to shield his eyes as he peered into the black hole. The smile slid from his face. “Wait a minute…is that a…” He dropped his hand to his hip and turned to the elf. “Not again, Draver.”
Draver frowned. “What are you talking about?”
The wizard and dwarf exchanged glances.
“What?” Draver demanded.
The wizard shook his head. “Ever since Cyrus was ensnared by the Sorceress, it seems that our quests have taken a…deadly turn.”
Draver’s jaw flexed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Leggomyeggo.”
The wizard shook his head. “I’m afraid you have me mistaken. Leggomyeggo was my brother.”
“Was?” Draver asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Leggomyeggo is dead.”
Draver’s brow folded into lines of confusion. “How can that be?”
Wintuck cleared his throat. “Last week when you wanted to steal the pearl feather from the Cyclops…don’t you remember? The Cyclops got a hold of Leggo and twisted him like a wash rag.”
Draver blinked several times before slowly nodding his head. “Oh yes, I remember now. I didn’t think the Cyclops would be such a problem. We’ve encountered them before.”
“With Cyrus,” Wintuck added.
Draver waved the dwarf’s comment away. “Yes, well regardless…that was a tragic day, indeed.”
Disgust pinched the wizard’s face. “Apparently it wasn’t tragic enough for you to remember.” He reached over and pinched Draver’s nipple through his shirt.
The elf yelped as he stumbled backward. “What was that for?”
“Making me an only child.” The wizard smiled and he dusted his hands off. “Now my brother is avenged.”
Wintuck giggled.
Draver scowled at the two of them as he rubbed his chest. “I can’t believe you would give me a titty-twister when there is a dragon within sight!”
The wizard shrugged.
“Well cut it out!” Draver stomped his foot impatiently. “There is a dangerous dragon right in that cave, and if you don’t get serious--uh--what is your name, anyway?”
The wizard grinned. “Snuffalopagus.”
Wintuck erupted into a fit of laughter.
Draver frowned at the dwarf before turning his attention back to the wizard. “That’s not your name.”
The wizard folded his arms. “Sure it is.”
“No.” Draver pursed his lips. “It isn’t.”
“Snuffalopagus is a family name. In each generation, the eldest son in my family is always named Snuffalopagus. My full name is Antonio Snuffalopagus Banderas the Eighth.”
Draver’s face flushed red. He opened his mouth, appeared to think better of it, and turned away from the dwarf and wizard. Seconds later he turned back around and released the breath he had been holding. His face paled to pink. “Look,” he began, “if you can’t be serious, then why don’t you just leave. Wintuck and I will fight the dragon on our own.”
Wintuck stopped laughing.
“Okay, okay.” The wizard held his hands up in placation. “If it makes you feel better, I have a nickname.”
“This should be good,” Wintuck said, grinning.
Draver scowled at the dwarf. “Please don’t encourage him.” He turned back to the wizard and motioned him to continue. “So out with it, already.”
The wizard sucked in his bottom lip, in what appeared to be an attempt to keep from laughing. “Fred,” he answered.
Draver sighed. “We’re not calling you Fred.”
The wizard shrugged. “Well, the wood nymphs call me Big Daddy.”
“No they don’t.” Draver shook his head.
“You’re right,” the wizard nodded. “The only one who calls me that is your mom.”

There you have it. If you notice clumps of hair in your shower drain you can't say I didn't warn you. :)

Please check out Rebecca's answer tomorrow!