Monday, November 28, 2011

Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 28

The boys who don’t get blown up run toward me. “We’d love to give you something. Please tell us, what would you like? What’s the one thing you’ve been depriving yourself all November?”

“Umm. Nothing? I can write my 1,667 words in an hour and half. It doesn’t take that much time out of my day. In fact, I’m usually writing around that long every day anyway, just not as productively.”

“How about a DVR full of tv shows?” asks one.

“Or a whole day to surf the internet?” asks the other.

“No, I’ve been keeping up with everything pretty well. Now, tell me, what’s behind that wall you’ve built?”

They run back to the wall, waving their hands over their heads and screaming.

The wookie noise sounds again. And again.

I step on a bent open paperclip. The stupid thing pokes into my sock and I stumble into the paper wall. Reams of paper slide off the stacks, falling behind the wall with loud thuds.

Characters go running in all directions.

Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him has two long ropes with…

I do a double take. “Are those camels? Where the hell did you get camels?”

Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him leads the shambling and wookie noise making camels toward me. Two Barthromian soldiers leap onto their backs. One falls off. The other scrambles his way onto the back of the camel and hits the camel on the side of the neck. Two huge guns pop out of the sides of the camel’s hump.

“Whoa. Cyborg camels?”

Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him stands proudly before the camels with the ropes in hand. “Gun-toting camels. You may remember writing them in a couple blog posts.”

“I do remember that, yes.”

“But you never used them in a novel. Therefore they are a discarded idea. They ended up here.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed them around. Not to mention, I never wrote them into a novel, so they don’t technically count.”

“You can argue blog vs. novel theory with me all day, but we have demands and if they’re not met, you’ll be sorry.”

The second Barthromian soldier finally makes his way onto his camel and produces a second set of guns.

“What are you going to do, shoot me?”

Ms. Wildstar emerges from behind the paper wall and stands by his side. She looks me in the eye. “If you don’t write us back into the sequel, yes. We all came from that novel universe. You can work us in. You can send us back. And you will do it.”

“Hmm. Let me think about this.” I tap my chin. “No.” I point at the gun-toting camels and they disappear. The Barthromian soldiers fall to the floor. “I may let you silly and willful characters run amuck around here and sometimes in my novels as well, but thisis my world and ultimately, I say what goes. So no. No more threats. No gun-toting camels. And no getting written back in.”

I put my hands on my hips and glare down at them all. “You will all go pick up the mess you made out there and go about your business peacefully until I write otherwise.”

Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him glares right back at me. “And if we don’t?”

I smile down on him. “You end up with the camels. Deleted.”

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