They must be desperate to distract me. That’s what passes through my mind as I see Trala climb over the edge of my desk. I feel dumber just being near her. Maybe that was their plan. Hmmm.
“What can I do for you, Trala?”
“I’m supposed to ask you a question today. This paper said so.” She holds up a heavily creased flyer.
“Oh joy. What’s the question?”
“If you could meet one fictional character from any book you’ve ever read, who would it be?”
“Interesting question. I’m going to go with none of them. I like my romance men on the page. No one is near as attractive and sexy all the time in real life. And really, most of them are trouble at first. I really don’t need that sort of aggravation. I’ll leave that to the female romance lead.”
A low, loud sound comes from behind a distant pile of paper wads. I glance over there but don’t see anything.
“What was that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.” Trala blinks her big blue eyes.
“Uhh, ok then. Well, fantasy novel guys could be fun too, but I’ve read how often the wash – not near enough. And their teeth? Ok, so that might not be mentioned on the pages, but we know. Same with pirates. All well and good on the page, but no sir. Not live.
“I can’t think of a female character that I’d be anxious to meet in person. We’d probably hate each other in short order. Vampires? Umm no. Safer on the page. Sci-fi guys? Hmm. Most of them are on the run, violent, have troubled pasts, a price on their heads, serious issues, weird gifts… yeah. I’m going to pass there too. I’ll keep enjoying characters on the page where I can put them down when I want to and spend time with them when it works out, and totally on my terms.”
A second deep throaty sound is cut off by someone shrieking. “No really. What’s going on over there?”
“Oh nothing. Probably just Marin harassing the Barthomians. They’ve been trying to tame dust bunnies.” She rolls her eyes. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard off.”
“Yes, it is.” And I don’t just mean the bunnies. Those Barthromians need some direction. And that didn’t sound like Marin or dust bunnies. Unless they were really big dust bunnies. I need a spy.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 19
I flick the card reading stealthily off my keyboard and peer around, finally spotting Nekar. The card reading invisibly doesn’t do a very good job of hiding him.
“Might as well come out. I can see you.”
“Damn. I need bigger cards.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would help.” I drum my fingertips on the desktop. “So, what have you seen up here?”
“Nothing.” One of the cards in his hand drops.
dishonestly
I hold up the card and shake my head. “Nice try.”
“I was just doing some research. Really.”
None of the cards leap out to give me a clue so I just nod.
“Ms. Wildstar said you wrote that Mox guy into your new novel. I wanted to see if there as a place for me too. We’re not that different, me and him, you know.” He glares at the laptop. “But I couldn’t figure out where the hell you have your novel file. Your writing folder is a damned mess!”
“It’s organized chaos. It works for me.” I pick him up and set him far from the tissue box. “Sorry to say, it’s because you and Mox are not all that different that you will not be written into this novel.”
Repetition was an excuse they’d all come to accept, but in all honestly in this case, it’s because they aren’t the same at all. What kind of deluded image does this guy have of himself? Mox was a good guy. Nekar was a bad guy. He never even had a somewhat middle ground, for goodness sake!
“While you’re up here, do you have a question to ask me?”
“It’s not my turn, but the schedule seems to be off, so sure.” He pulls a copy of the flyer from a pocket in his coat. “Which authors or books have inspired your writing?”
In this case of this particular novel and main character, I’d have to say Steven Brust’s Vlad Taltos series. Assassins and dry wit are two of my favorite things. I happened to be reading the series when I changed the direction of Trust many years ago, switching everything from Ms. MC to Mr. MC’s pov.”
“I could do dry wit. I’ve also killed people,” Nekar offers.
“I know.” I pat him on the head. “But we’re back at that repetition thing again. You should run along now before you end up in a sticky situation.”
“Might as well come out. I can see you.”
“Damn. I need bigger cards.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would help.” I drum my fingertips on the desktop. “So, what have you seen up here?”
“Nothing.” One of the cards in his hand drops.
dishonestly
I hold up the card and shake my head. “Nice try.”
“I was just doing some research. Really.”
None of the cards leap out to give me a clue so I just nod.
“Ms. Wildstar said you wrote that Mox guy into your new novel. I wanted to see if there as a place for me too. We’re not that different, me and him, you know.” He glares at the laptop. “But I couldn’t figure out where the hell you have your novel file. Your writing folder is a damned mess!”
“It’s organized chaos. It works for me.” I pick him up and set him far from the tissue box. “Sorry to say, it’s because you and Mox are not all that different that you will not be written into this novel.”
Repetition was an excuse they’d all come to accept, but in all honestly in this case, it’s because they aren’t the same at all. What kind of deluded image does this guy have of himself? Mox was a good guy. Nekar was a bad guy. He never even had a somewhat middle ground, for goodness sake!
“While you’re up here, do you have a question to ask me?”
“It’s not my turn, but the schedule seems to be off, so sure.” He pulls a copy of the flyer from a pocket in his coat. “Which authors or books have inspired your writing?”
In this case of this particular novel and main character, I’d have to say Steven Brust’s Vlad Taltos series. Assassins and dry wit are two of my favorite things. I happened to be reading the series when I changed the direction of Trust many years ago, switching everything from Ms. MC to Mr. MC’s pov.”
“I could do dry wit. I’ve also killed people,” Nekar offers.
“I know.” I pat him on the head. “But we’re back at that repetition thing again. You should run along now before you end up in a sticky situation.”
Friday, November 18, 2011
Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 18
Twenty-five uniformed men march onto the desktop. One steps forward. “Excuse us, She Who Taps The Keys. We are looking for our Captain.”
“You and everyone else. Haven’t seen him.”
“He was supposed to ask you question today. He hasn’t been here yet?”
“I said I haven’t seen him. Is there something else, or can I get back to writing?”
The man turns and looks to the others. Several of them nod. He turns back to me. “Our beloved Captain has been missing for over a week. No trace of him has been found. We can only assume something horrible happened. We request your permission to elect a new captain.”
“A guy goes missing for a week and you’re all set to replace him? Not big on waiting are you?”
He leans in close and give me a conspiratorial nod. “I’ve rather had my eye on the position for years.”
Could it be? One of my impotent evildoers has a drop of ambition? Perhaps there is hope for them after all. “And just what kind of captain would you be? I’d like to see some changes. You Barthromians have been stagnant for decades.”
“Oh, me too.” He grins, which makes his eyes sparkle and a dimple show up on his cheek.
“Cut that out. Don’t ever grin again.”
“But,” he pouts, “I have so many plans. I have a vision!” He spays his fingers out and raises them high. The sparkle and dimple return. “New uniforms, something blue like Delilah’s eyes, and with some sequins! We’re so sick of these drab things! And pencils! We want pencils. One for each man, so we can play tic-tac-toe to hone our strategic skills. And that one,” he points to a blushing young man, “he would like to open a shelter for the dust bunnies. You see, they’re just lonely and misunderstood! They could be trained. They could become wonderful pets!”
I just sit, blinking, amazed at this glimpse into the Barthromian mind. Amazed, no, perhaps disturbed. Yeah, probably more that. “While I’m thinking that over, ask today’s question.”
“Of course.” He snaps to attention. “Who is the antagonist in your novel and what drives them?”
“There are several. The ex-best friend who has a chip on his shoulder the size of his dead wife and child. Kess, a returning bad guy who was good for a brief section of the last novel and is back to being bad, though perhaps reluctantly. He is trying to give the star system better leadership. It just happens not to jive with Mr. MCs vision, nor are his tactics appreciated. And then there’s the Council. Still there and still wanting expansion and domination over the known universe. Isn’t that what armies and plentiful resources to sustain them are for?”
He puts a hand over his gaping mouth. “They sound evil.”
“And you don’t. Request denied.”
Twenty-five sulky Barthromians shuffle off the desktop.
“You and everyone else. Haven’t seen him.”
“He was supposed to ask you question today. He hasn’t been here yet?”
“I said I haven’t seen him. Is there something else, or can I get back to writing?”
The man turns and looks to the others. Several of them nod. He turns back to me. “Our beloved Captain has been missing for over a week. No trace of him has been found. We can only assume something horrible happened. We request your permission to elect a new captain.”
“A guy goes missing for a week and you’re all set to replace him? Not big on waiting are you?”
He leans in close and give me a conspiratorial nod. “I’ve rather had my eye on the position for years.”
Could it be? One of my impotent evildoers has a drop of ambition? Perhaps there is hope for them after all. “And just what kind of captain would you be? I’d like to see some changes. You Barthromians have been stagnant for decades.”
“Oh, me too.” He grins, which makes his eyes sparkle and a dimple show up on his cheek.
“Cut that out. Don’t ever grin again.”
“But,” he pouts, “I have so many plans. I have a vision!” He spays his fingers out and raises them high. The sparkle and dimple return. “New uniforms, something blue like Delilah’s eyes, and with some sequins! We’re so sick of these drab things! And pencils! We want pencils. One for each man, so we can play tic-tac-toe to hone our strategic skills. And that one,” he points to a blushing young man, “he would like to open a shelter for the dust bunnies. You see, they’re just lonely and misunderstood! They could be trained. They could become wonderful pets!”
I just sit, blinking, amazed at this glimpse into the Barthromian mind. Amazed, no, perhaps disturbed. Yeah, probably more that. “While I’m thinking that over, ask today’s question.”
“Of course.” He snaps to attention. “Who is the antagonist in your novel and what drives them?”
“There are several. The ex-best friend who has a chip on his shoulder the size of his dead wife and child. Kess, a returning bad guy who was good for a brief section of the last novel and is back to being bad, though perhaps reluctantly. He is trying to give the star system better leadership. It just happens not to jive with Mr. MCs vision, nor are his tactics appreciated. And then there’s the Council. Still there and still wanting expansion and domination over the known universe. Isn’t that what armies and plentiful resources to sustain them are for?”
He puts a hand over his gaping mouth. “They sound evil.”
“And you don’t. Request denied.”
Twenty-five sulky Barthromians shuffle off the desktop.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 16/17
"Scorpius, I’m going to toss day sixteen’s question to you since no one came up here to ask it. Wait, you can’t ask questions, you can only answer them."
Okay, I’ve got this then since we’re already running a day behind. Turns out this is as darn appropriate question.
What else do I have going on in my life and how much is it shafting my efforts to win NaNo?
Well, we all know that I buried my superwoman cape last year. However, here’s a quick glimpse into a single week’s obligations beyond my own writing of 50k.
Monday – Young Writers Program student meeting , grocery shopping for me and my mother-in-law, Boy Scout meeting and work
Tuesday – Girl Scout meeting, worked late on an installation job, Hosted a write-in for adult NaNo participants, shopped for upcoming PTO event items, girl scout project supplies, NaNo celebratory chocolate, and donation for food drive for son’s school, and one other meeting that I had to cancel on because of the write-in.
Wednesday – Young Writers Program student meeting, picked up CSA veggies, worked, watched Survivor with family – oh hey, we’re all in the same room for a whole hour!
Thursday – OMG nothing but work (thanks to the fact we cancelled a PTO meeting.)
Friday – work, host evening online write-in for adult NaNo participants, help with PTO movie night and somewhere in there transport teen son to evening school party. Clone self?
Saturday – Transport son across town to afternoon boy scout event. Spend a couple hours with daughter at an activity orientation. Work in the yard / clean up garden / work if I have to.
Sunday - Spend some time sitting in the same room with husband during our one night of evening tv time. Catch up on laundry, dishes, cleaning and making sure kids have homework done, have cleaned themselves, their rooms and their clothes.
There, we’ve got that one covered. Still no one up here? Now I’m getting concerned.
“Hey,” I rip the masking tape from the Barthromian captain’s mouth. “I guess today is yours even though the schedule said that you have tomorrow. Do you have a name? I mean, I didn’t write you with one, but I’m getting sick of referring to you indirectly.”
He rubs the masking tape residue from his lips. “Chuck.”
“Uhh, really? That’s not very, I don’t know, alien sounding. Or terrifying. Come on, you’re the leader of the bad guys.”
“No, I think I’m sticking with Chuck. I rather like it. And truly, I do appreciate that you let me pick my own name, especially after that Glicfip debacle.”
“And now you’re being polite and using words like debacle. Where did I go wrong?” I drop my head into my hands. “Ask the darn question.”
“What time period is your novel set and is it on this world or another?”
“It’s in the future, in another star system, and takes place on several planets.”
“Very nice. Sounds like a story I could really get into.”
I slap new piece of tape over his mouth. “Nice try, Chuck.”
Okay, I’ve got this then since we’re already running a day behind. Turns out this is as darn appropriate question.
What else do I have going on in my life and how much is it shafting my efforts to win NaNo?
Well, we all know that I buried my superwoman cape last year. However, here’s a quick glimpse into a single week’s obligations beyond my own writing of 50k.
Monday – Young Writers Program student meeting , grocery shopping for me and my mother-in-law, Boy Scout meeting and work
Tuesday – Girl Scout meeting, worked late on an installation job, Hosted a write-in for adult NaNo participants, shopped for upcoming PTO event items, girl scout project supplies, NaNo celebratory chocolate, and donation for food drive for son’s school, and one other meeting that I had to cancel on because of the write-in.
Wednesday – Young Writers Program student meeting, picked up CSA veggies, worked, watched Survivor with family – oh hey, we’re all in the same room for a whole hour!
Thursday – OMG nothing but work (thanks to the fact we cancelled a PTO meeting.)
Friday – work, host evening online write-in for adult NaNo participants, help with PTO movie night and somewhere in there transport teen son to evening school party. Clone self?
Saturday – Transport son across town to afternoon boy scout event. Spend a couple hours with daughter at an activity orientation. Work in the yard / clean up garden / work if I have to.
Sunday - Spend some time sitting in the same room with husband during our one night of evening tv time. Catch up on laundry, dishes, cleaning and making sure kids have homework done, have cleaned themselves, their rooms and their clothes.
There, we’ve got that one covered. Still no one up here? Now I’m getting concerned.
“Hey,” I rip the masking tape from the Barthromian captain’s mouth. “I guess today is yours even though the schedule said that you have tomorrow. Do you have a name? I mean, I didn’t write you with one, but I’m getting sick of referring to you indirectly.”
He rubs the masking tape residue from his lips. “Chuck.”
“Uhh, really? That’s not very, I don’t know, alien sounding. Or terrifying. Come on, you’re the leader of the bad guys.”
“No, I think I’m sticking with Chuck. I rather like it. And truly, I do appreciate that you let me pick my own name, especially after that Glicfip debacle.”
“And now you’re being polite and using words like debacle. Where did I go wrong?” I drop my head into my hands. “Ask the darn question.”
“What time period is your novel set and is it on this world or another?”
“It’s in the future, in another star system, and takes place on several planets.”
“Very nice. Sounds like a story I could really get into.”
I slap new piece of tape over his mouth. “Nice try, Chuck.”
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 15
“So 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, we meet again.”
He scowls. “We do.”
“Well, aren’t you extra surly today? What brings you to the desktop?”
“The Barthromians are missing their captain. Do you have anything to do with that?”
“Me?” I take a second to reassure myself that I’ve securely re-taped and gagged the annoyingly good captain to the backside of the tissue box. “Nope.”
“Maybe we should ask your friend there.” He points at Scorpius standing next to my laptop.
“Scorpius is a bobblehead. He can’t talk.”
“Oh, but I think he can.” 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 approaches the still figurine. “So, Scorpius, have you seen the Barthromian captain on the desktop within the past week?”
He gives Scorpius a little tap under the chin. “See, he says yes.”
“Now that’s just cheating.” I knock my chair into the desk. 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 staggers. “See, now he says no.”
“You just slammed into the desk!”
“You hit him under the chin to make him nod!”
“Is she lying about the captain, Scorpius?”
“Oh come on!” I spot a glob of something shiny on his coat and point at it. “What’s that? It looks like a giant blob of mucus.”
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 turns slowly to look the glob on his shoulder. “That’s nothing. Say, umm, do any of your characters have a disability or mental illness this year? That dysotopian novella you did a couple years ago, the one with the mentally handicapped guy, uhh what was his name… Anyway, that was fascinating.”
“No, but thanks. So really though, what is that on your coat?”
“Must have sneezed. Woo, yeah, not feeling so well. Probably should go lie down.” He runs for the edge of the desk. “Wouldn’t want to get you sick. We’re only halfway through NaNo.” He dives over the edge.
I look to Scorpius. “Think their still up to something out there?’
He nods.
“Yeah, me too.”
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