I'll give you a hint, it's less than 1 more than -1. That's how many words I've written so far. I started at my usual time--roughly 9ish--and everything seemed fine. I had to write a scene with Ressto. Ressto, if you'll recall, is the leader of the Revolutionaries. Some of you might recall a previous post about Ressto. Yes, he's once again rearing his fat little head and refusing to cooperate. Every bloody scene I right him in feels flat and forced, but I don't know what to do. His half of the story feels tacked on, but without his half Falovri (the herione) feels incomplete. Here's what I thought up:
1) Smash my head until I'm unconcious, wake up with amnesia, move to France, become a famous painter and never worry about writing again.
2) Take the whole manuscript, the world building notes, and the outline, throw them in a metal trash can, dump half a bottle of lighter fluid on it, set it ablaze, dance around it naked chanting the words to "Respect."
3) Follow PBW's lead and write a blog post about it--because you don't know what to do and you're too annoyed to write.
4) Rob a local bank and go on a cross country robbing spree, terrorizing little old ladies with yapping chihuahuas, and end my escapades by driving my car, in slow-mo, off a cliff.
5) Cry about it.
6) Replace the entire manuscript with "You suck at writing."
7) Buckle down, go back to work and try to figure out what you can do to fix it.
8) Pray.
9) Swear a lot. ("This profanity profanity-ing story! Why can't I profanity-ing fix one profanity-ing thing!! ARG!")
10) ...continue to stall even though you've run out of things to say.
*sigh* Well, back to work then.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
S&S vs Authors
Simon and Schuster have changed the wording of their contracts. Instead of copyrights reverting back to the author when the work goes out of print, the book's copyrights will remain in the publisher's hands for the remainder of the copyright--pretty much forever.
Lynn Viehl, aka S.L. Viehl, author of the Darkyn series and the StarDoc series, is going to receive the rights to some of her older works in the near future, and she's thought about releasing one of them as a free e-book since the book is out of print. If she worked for S&S, she couldn't do that.
What do you think? Would you sign with S&S?
Link shamelessly filched from PBW's blog.
More news from the agent's point of view at Pub Rants: Here, and here, and here.
Doesn't sound like good news does it?
Lynn Viehl, aka S.L. Viehl, author of the Darkyn series and the StarDoc series, is going to receive the rights to some of her older works in the near future, and she's thought about releasing one of them as a free e-book since the book is out of print. If she worked for S&S, she couldn't do that.
What do you think? Would you sign with S&S?
Link shamelessly filched from PBW's blog.
More news from the agent's point of view at Pub Rants: Here, and here, and here.
Doesn't sound like good news does it?
Monday, May 21, 2007
Playing Ketchup
Well, it's been a day. It hasn't been great, but it hasn't been bad either. I got up and had my usual cup of tea for breakfast, dropped my brother off at school, came back home and wrote for two and a half hours. I got 3,054 words today. If I keep hitting my quota like this I might have to up it. It was a great feeling, the words hit the page and they just felt right. I'll have to do a post about when I write sometime...maybe tomorrow, I dunno, but I'll talk about the Zone.
After I finished writing, I was going to post a blog entry. And that was when it went to hell. Freewebs glitched...again...so I, in a fit of rage, registered for and created a Blogger blog. So, this is where all my new blog entries will be posted. The bad part about switching was the tediousness of updating all the entries. It took a while, and in the meantime I wanted to bash my head in. More maintenance will be going on as I continue to get used to Blogger--posting entries is different than posting comics--but I plan to stay here for a while.
On another down note today, I didn't get a job that I've been praying and hoping for to get me out of the one I have now, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be. I really wanted it, though. My mom is trying to get me to look into another job, this one will be a fulltime job, which is going to seriously cut into my writing quota, but I'll be making more than I am now, which will help with the bills, so I guess if they'll hire me I'll take it.
Interesting development, while I was writing on Jivtor today, a new character and potential plot development popped up. I've never had this happen before, so it kinda threw me for a loop. All of a sudden, this character that I didn't even plan, just a face in the crowd is starting to grow a voice and he's showing interest in Falovri. It's kinda shocking. I'll post more about that when I see where it's going.
Anyway, that's that--my first entry on my NEW blog.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Graduation: The Day After
Well, it's the day after, and I'm still in one piece. My mom--of course--cried during my graduation. It was actually not as magical as I thought it would be. When I arrived, I was with my friend. We went to the changing room and changed into our robes. Actually that was a waste of space--the changing room was useless. All the robes do is go over your regular clothes, so I missed the point of the changing rooms in the first place, but whatever. It's their party, I'm just attending it.
After we changed, we stood around for half an hour asking people where we were supposed to meet for the march. Of course, no one knew. When it finally came time for us to march in, we stood around for another 20 minutes at least. The people at the front started getting really bored, so they kept trying to convince--or bully us in some people's cases--into doing the wave. By this time, I was sick of everyone there and if I NEVER saw them again it would be too soon. Call me short tempered, but when a guy threatens to karate chop you in the throat if you step on the back of his robes, you don't suddenly feel a bond of kinsmanship for him.
Our principal told us not to bring beachballs, air horns, noise makers, party poppers, or anything like that. Silly string must be saved until the END of the ceremony. You can see where this is going right? By the time we got to the G's the silly string came out. I got nailed in the eyes and up my nose with a blast from the gentleman who threatened to karate chop me. Then, I got nailedi n the back of the neck with the hillbilly from behind--and trust me, he was a hillbilly in every sense of the word.
A beachball hit me in the head, knocking my glasses and graduation cap in to the floor. I had to scramble around and find them. Then, someone got mad at me for dodging when he tried to hit SOMEONE ELSE with silly string. His comfort words were, "Trust me, if I had been aiming for you, I would have hit you." The funny thing was, when he actually did aim for me, he missed.
By the time we go to the M's, it was chaos. Silly string was everywhere, and I was covered in it.
That night, to the surprise of no one I know, I did not party. I went straight home, and straight to bed.
All in all, though, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. When I went up to graduate, I heard my uncle, me cousin, and my grandpa screaming louder than my friends. It was, in a sense, magical at that moment. When I took my diploma in my hands, I had the sense of my past and my future colliding into one brief moment that made my heart skip a beat in fear and amazement.
I'm out of high school. I'll be out forever. I'll never go back. Now is the moment of the rest of my life. True, I'll have to go to college, but that's not the same as high school. The wheels of my life, more than ever, are turning. I imagine I'll feel the same when I graduate from college, but it feels like this is one of the most defining moments of my life. Afterall, everyone goes to high school, not everyone goes to college. My mom, although she did go for a couple of years, didn't finish college. She dropped out because I was having health problems, and my did never finished high school. This is a big first, and it's terrifiying and exciting. I hope I can make my family proud.
After we changed, we stood around for half an hour asking people where we were supposed to meet for the march. Of course, no one knew. When it finally came time for us to march in, we stood around for another 20 minutes at least. The people at the front started getting really bored, so they kept trying to convince--or bully us in some people's cases--into doing the wave. By this time, I was sick of everyone there and if I NEVER saw them again it would be too soon. Call me short tempered, but when a guy threatens to karate chop you in the throat if you step on the back of his robes, you don't suddenly feel a bond of kinsmanship for him.
Our principal told us not to bring beachballs, air horns, noise makers, party poppers, or anything like that. Silly string must be saved until the END of the ceremony. You can see where this is going right? By the time we got to the G's the silly string came out. I got nailed in the eyes and up my nose with a blast from the gentleman who threatened to karate chop me. Then, I got nailedi n the back of the neck with the hillbilly from behind--and trust me, he was a hillbilly in every sense of the word.
A beachball hit me in the head, knocking my glasses and graduation cap in to the floor. I had to scramble around and find them. Then, someone got mad at me for dodging when he tried to hit SOMEONE ELSE with silly string. His comfort words were, "Trust me, if I had been aiming for you, I would have hit you." The funny thing was, when he actually did aim for me, he missed.
By the time we go to the M's, it was chaos. Silly string was everywhere, and I was covered in it.
That night, to the surprise of no one I know, I did not party. I went straight home, and straight to bed.
All in all, though, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. When I went up to graduate, I heard my uncle, me cousin, and my grandpa screaming louder than my friends. It was, in a sense, magical at that moment. When I took my diploma in my hands, I had the sense of my past and my future colliding into one brief moment that made my heart skip a beat in fear and amazement.
I'm out of high school. I'll be out forever. I'll never go back. Now is the moment of the rest of my life. True, I'll have to go to college, but that's not the same as high school. The wheels of my life, more than ever, are turning. I imagine I'll feel the same when I graduate from college, but it feels like this is one of the most defining moments of my life. Afterall, everyone goes to high school, not everyone goes to college. My mom, although she did go for a couple of years, didn't finish college. She dropped out because I was having health problems, and my did never finished high school. This is a big first, and it's terrifiying and exciting. I hope I can make my family proud.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Happy Graduation to Me
Today is the day I graduate. I should be asleep, but I'm nervous, really nervous. Today is the day I get the preverbial foot in the keister and sent out into the real world. Pretty soon I'll be moving out of my house that I've known as home since kindergarten and forced to live with some stranger in a town that I've only spent a total of 8 hours in in my whole life.
I can just imagine how the first day will be:
I try to drive up to the town, but become so sleepy in the two hour drive that I miss the one important turn and become hopelessly lost. I'll have to call my mother on my cell phone describing the flat landscape, the horrible smell of cow poop, and the cock-eyed stare of the local man who runs the "Hand-made knives" stand on the side of the road.
Once I finally make it to town, I'm late for Freshmen Orientation, and cause a big commotion arriving with no place to put my luggage as I missed my dorm assignment and am having to drag all my luggage with me on the detailed tour of the campus that I cannot miss or I will be come hopelessly lost and miss all my classes for the first week. After I finally find out where my dorm is, I have to trek across the entire campus to find it, enter the all-girls dorm by mistake, almost get kicked out for "peeping", and finally arrive at the right dorm hall and the right room.
After I open the door to my room, I see that my room mate has more piercings than the guy from Hell Raiser, has painted is half of the room solid black, and is currently giving himself a tattoo while listening to some rocker group that screeches so loudly and so incoherently they've reverted back to primal speech. He'll ask me what my name is, and about what time I think I'll be going to bed.
Then obviously, I'll learn that my problem isn't my creepy roommate--who likes to sharpen knives and laughs at all the gory parts of Saw--but the guy next door who looks like he's 35, is built like a professional wrestler and doesn't like "quiet, brainy guys." I, surprising myself, the professional wrestler in training, and every person I've ever known ever, spit out a snide comment about how I don't like steroid using, inbred, hilbillies....
when I come to...
You know what, I better stop now. I don't want to jinx myself.
Happy Graduation to me.
I can just imagine how the first day will be:
I try to drive up to the town, but become so sleepy in the two hour drive that I miss the one important turn and become hopelessly lost. I'll have to call my mother on my cell phone describing the flat landscape, the horrible smell of cow poop, and the cock-eyed stare of the local man who runs the "Hand-made knives" stand on the side of the road.
Once I finally make it to town, I'm late for Freshmen Orientation, and cause a big commotion arriving with no place to put my luggage as I missed my dorm assignment and am having to drag all my luggage with me on the detailed tour of the campus that I cannot miss or I will be come hopelessly lost and miss all my classes for the first week. After I finally find out where my dorm is, I have to trek across the entire campus to find it, enter the all-girls dorm by mistake, almost get kicked out for "peeping", and finally arrive at the right dorm hall and the right room.
After I open the door to my room, I see that my room mate has more piercings than the guy from Hell Raiser, has painted is half of the room solid black, and is currently giving himself a tattoo while listening to some rocker group that screeches so loudly and so incoherently they've reverted back to primal speech. He'll ask me what my name is, and about what time I think I'll be going to bed.
Then obviously, I'll learn that my problem isn't my creepy roommate--who likes to sharpen knives and laughs at all the gory parts of Saw--but the guy next door who looks like he's 35, is built like a professional wrestler and doesn't like "quiet, brainy guys." I, surprising myself, the professional wrestler in training, and every person I've ever known ever, spit out a snide comment about how I don't like steroid using, inbred, hilbillies....
when I come to...
You know what, I better stop now. I don't want to jinx myself.
Happy Graduation to me.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Goals
Last night, I got fed up with how I've been going about things. I've been waking up early to take my brother to school, crashing back into my bed and sleeping until noon, waking up and taking a shower, searching the blogs I read, surfing the net for a while, watching some TV, wasting the day doing basically nothing, going to get my brother in the afternoon, coming back home to waste more time, going to work in the evenings, coming home and staying up until 2 in the morning doing basically nothing but surfing the 'net and watching TV. It's been making me more exhausted than I can stand, so last night I made up my mind. Instead of complaining that I don't have very good self-discipline, I'm going to do something about it.
Last night, after I got home from work, I took a shower and went straight to bed...well as straight to bed as I could get. My brother was using my computer for a school project so I had to wait on him. I wound up in bed at 11, an hour later than I wanted to be, but that couldn't be helped. Then I woke up at 7:00, about 30 minutes late, but better than I have been, and taking my brother to school. I then came home, checked the news to see what's happened locally and to the country as of late, checked on the blogs I like to read, and then I wrote from 9:30 until 12:10. I got 2,222 words. I would have gotten more, but I had three people call me in the middle of my writing, I had to take some clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer, and feed the dogs.
All in all, I think my goals have been met pretty well. I can't help the distractions, much as they annoyed me, but I can get over the distractions and try my best to reach my goal.
That's the thing. In life and in our writing, we need goals so that we can continually improve ourselves. My goal for writing for the day was 2000 words. I met that goal. My goal for my schedule is to be in bed by 10:00 on the nights I can help it, and be up at 6:30 every morning. My goal for the year is to finish this novel before I go to college. Will I make it? I don't know. I don't have to worry, though, because goals are not set in stone. Goals are not contracts that you are bound to and if you break them they repossess your poodle, your toothbrush and your favorite pair of purple socks. Goals are to drive you, make you work for something harder, to improve yourself, but they're not binding. They can be changed and shaped as you go along.
Remember in your writing to set big goals, because those are what you dream for--those are the top of the ladder, but remember to also set small goals, because those are steps that will help you get there. And remember to always have faith.
Last night, after I got home from work, I took a shower and went straight to bed...well as straight to bed as I could get. My brother was using my computer for a school project so I had to wait on him. I wound up in bed at 11, an hour later than I wanted to be, but that couldn't be helped. Then I woke up at 7:00, about 30 minutes late, but better than I have been, and taking my brother to school. I then came home, checked the news to see what's happened locally and to the country as of late, checked on the blogs I like to read, and then I wrote from 9:30 until 12:10. I got 2,222 words. I would have gotten more, but I had three people call me in the middle of my writing, I had to take some clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer, and feed the dogs.
All in all, I think my goals have been met pretty well. I can't help the distractions, much as they annoyed me, but I can get over the distractions and try my best to reach my goal.
That's the thing. In life and in our writing, we need goals so that we can continually improve ourselves. My goal for writing for the day was 2000 words. I met that goal. My goal for my schedule is to be in bed by 10:00 on the nights I can help it, and be up at 6:30 every morning. My goal for the year is to finish this novel before I go to college. Will I make it? I don't know. I don't have to worry, though, because goals are not set in stone. Goals are not contracts that you are bound to and if you break them they repossess your poodle, your toothbrush and your favorite pair of purple socks. Goals are to drive you, make you work for something harder, to improve yourself, but they're not binding. They can be changed and shaped as you go along.
Remember in your writing to set big goals, because those are what you dream for--those are the top of the ladder, but remember to also set small goals, because those are steps that will help you get there. And remember to always have faith.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
If I were a book, apparently I'd be...
You're Adventures of Huckleberry Finn!
by Mark Twain
With an affinity for floating down the river, you see things in black
and white. The world is strange and new to you and the more you learn about it, the less
it makes sense. You probably speak with an accent and others have a hard time
understanding you and an even harder time taking you seriously. Nevertheless, your
adventurous spirit is admirable. You really like straw hats.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Summer Movie Fun
For lack of anything better to talk about right now, let's talk about summer. Summer always means a few things to me:
1) Hot, muggy summers
2) Crabby angry people (usually due to the hot muggy summers)
3) Burns (from me hopping into the car without thinking about the 100 °F weather and scorching myself on the steering wheel)
4) Really great movies.
I might blog about the hot muggy summers, the crabby angry people, or my stupidity some other time, but it's the movies I wanna focus on right now. Summer always means I sit and drool over the trailers for the new movies coming out that I can't afford to see, and this summer looks like it's gonna be another great one.
First off, we have Shrek the Third. Shrek was a phenomenon from the moment the first one hit theaters. It was so refreshing to take a new look at the old fairy tales we've grown up with and put a new spin on them. Top that off with them seeming to get better all the time (with the addition of Puss in Boots) and the third one is sure to be just as good or better than the first two. Mike Myers--the voice of Shrek--has even said that the only thing that ever makes him drop his own projects is to work on another Shrek movie, and he'll have the chance to, since there's already another one being planned.
Next, we have Spiderman 3. I love Spiderman. When I was little, I grew up watching the TV show, and when the movies came out, I was ready to pop from excitement. The third one has a lot on its side to me: really great actors, continuing the Goblin storyline and the addition of one of my favorite villains ever: Venom. One thing that worries me about the Spiderman franchise is that Toby Maguire--the actor who plays Spiderman--is leaving, and yet, the studios are still talking about making more Spiderman movies. As a matter of fact, three more. Carnage--a villain similar to, but not the same as Venom--is said to be in one of the upcoming movies, and I love Carnage, but...no Toby? I hate when movies change cast members in the middle of a series so my hopes are not high for the next few, but at the least, the third one seems to be a good last hurrah no matter what happens after. It's been getting mixed reviews from the critics, but they also gave Pirates 2 mixed reviews and I loved it.
Speaking of Pirates, what's that on the horizon? Oh, it's Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. I'm about to wet myself over this one. Johnny Depp is brilliant as the flawed protagonist Jack Sparrow. He always delivers an amazing, hilarious performance. I'm always game for another Pirates movie, and considering how the last one left off, I'm even more excited than ever. Oh, and there are talks, just talks but still, of more Pirates movies after this one. Johnny Depp said that he's willing to play in them, he loves doing the character.
And the cream of the crop, to me, this summer seems to be Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I'm a huge fan of the Harry Potter books, and the movies have been good. Some have been better than others, but for the most part they've all been excellent. The fourth being my favorite, I'm really looking forward to Order of the Phoenix because I love the actor that plays Voldermort. It's rumored to be the scariest Harry Potter yet, and I say good! The stories are getting darker and scarier and the movies should follow that trend. After all, the plot is about a boy trying to over come a man responsible for killing people, lots of people, over the course of several years. It's not going to be bunnies and kittens (except Mrs. Norris).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my look forward into the movies coming this summer. I really didn't have much else to talk about yet, it's been pretty slow and a little boring. Well, TTFN, ta ta for now.
1) Hot, muggy summers
2) Crabby angry people (usually due to the hot muggy summers)
3) Burns (from me hopping into the car without thinking about the 100 °F weather and scorching myself on the steering wheel)
4) Really great movies.
I might blog about the hot muggy summers, the crabby angry people, or my stupidity some other time, but it's the movies I wanna focus on right now. Summer always means I sit and drool over the trailers for the new movies coming out that I can't afford to see, and this summer looks like it's gonna be another great one.
First off, we have Shrek the Third. Shrek was a phenomenon from the moment the first one hit theaters. It was so refreshing to take a new look at the old fairy tales we've grown up with and put a new spin on them. Top that off with them seeming to get better all the time (with the addition of Puss in Boots) and the third one is sure to be just as good or better than the first two. Mike Myers--the voice of Shrek--has even said that the only thing that ever makes him drop his own projects is to work on another Shrek movie, and he'll have the chance to, since there's already another one being planned.
Next, we have Spiderman 3. I love Spiderman. When I was little, I grew up watching the TV show, and when the movies came out, I was ready to pop from excitement. The third one has a lot on its side to me: really great actors, continuing the Goblin storyline and the addition of one of my favorite villains ever: Venom. One thing that worries me about the Spiderman franchise is that Toby Maguire--the actor who plays Spiderman--is leaving, and yet, the studios are still talking about making more Spiderman movies. As a matter of fact, three more. Carnage--a villain similar to, but not the same as Venom--is said to be in one of the upcoming movies, and I love Carnage, but...no Toby? I hate when movies change cast members in the middle of a series so my hopes are not high for the next few, but at the least, the third one seems to be a good last hurrah no matter what happens after. It's been getting mixed reviews from the critics, but they also gave Pirates 2 mixed reviews and I loved it.
Speaking of Pirates, what's that on the horizon? Oh, it's Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. I'm about to wet myself over this one. Johnny Depp is brilliant as the flawed protagonist Jack Sparrow. He always delivers an amazing, hilarious performance. I'm always game for another Pirates movie, and considering how the last one left off, I'm even more excited than ever. Oh, and there are talks, just talks but still, of more Pirates movies after this one. Johnny Depp said that he's willing to play in them, he loves doing the character.
And the cream of the crop, to me, this summer seems to be Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I'm a huge fan of the Harry Potter books, and the movies have been good. Some have been better than others, but for the most part they've all been excellent. The fourth being my favorite, I'm really looking forward to Order of the Phoenix because I love the actor that plays Voldermort. It's rumored to be the scariest Harry Potter yet, and I say good! The stories are getting darker and scarier and the movies should follow that trend. After all, the plot is about a boy trying to over come a man responsible for killing people, lots of people, over the course of several years. It's not going to be bunnies and kittens (except Mrs. Norris).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my look forward into the movies coming this summer. I really didn't have much else to talk about yet, it's been pretty slow and a little boring. Well, TTFN, ta ta for now.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Friday Snippet: Let's give this thingy a try.
I dunno if I'll be able to do this all the time, or anything, but Holly started a "snippit" group and I wanted to give it a try if I can figure out how. My snippit is from the Medium story that I was working on a few months back. I'm still going to work on it, but I need to finish my other two novels first.
___________
Hey, you! This material is copyrighted. It's the first draft, so it's probably littered with grammer mistakes, continuity errors, and other funny or annoying problems. Regardless, do not quote this material or repost it anywhere in any form, or in any other plane of existence, okay? Thanks!
Chapter One
One Wednesday morning, at 6:30 AM, I rolled over to turn off my alarm and saw the naked man. By naked, I mean just that--naked from head to toe, devoid of any clothes, wearing God’s natural spandex. His sweaty black hair was matted to his head in several places and he looked tired and out of breath.
This naked man was in no way attractive, and he seemed to be as painfully aware of this as I was. He stood with is hands clamped around his front like he was afraid it would jump off and run away, and his face was a brilliant shade of red, especially around the tips of his ears.
I responded the way any man would to finding another person of his own gender in his room--naked--I sprang from my bed and began frantically searching for something, a bat, a lamp, or--even better--a bazooka, to use to defend myself against this nude assailant. I eventually settled for my wife’s ceramic monkey she kept on a our night stand. It was hideous and I had begged her not to buy it. It was $50, and wouldn’t fit anywhere in the house. Besides, it was heavy and would scratch whatever we set it on. Now I was glad she bought it.
After a moment, realization dawned on me as I squared off against this fishy-pale, pudgy man. The man grew increasingly uncomfortable under my stare and turned his back to me, giving me full view of his nude buttocks. He noticed this after a moment and, with his back still turned, put his hands over his exposed derrière.
Moments after he’d done this, the door to our room burst open, and in came my wife with an armful of grocery bags.
Our exposed visitor greeted this new development with horror and dove under our bed with speed belying his plump stature, crying out in shock.
My wife followed my eyes as I watched this, and glanced at me quizzically.
“Honey, what is it?”
I looked up in surprise.
“Nothing, dear, just watching the dust bunnies and thinking about all the paperwork I’ll have today.”
She smiled at me, her radiant beauty filling me with a warmth only a few lucky men know.
“You always seem to carry your work home with you.”
She’s right, I do.
Once my wife had left the room, I helped my nude companion out from under my bed and helped him through the house. He refused to go first, insisting to stay right behind me. When my wife called my name, his eyes widened in horror at the thought of further embarrassment.
“Yes, dear?”
“Where are you going? You haven’t eaten breakfast yet!”
“I’ll grab something from McDonalds on the way to the office.”
I could practically hear my wife’s eyes roll from the kitchen. She detests fast food, and insists on serving only organic food at home.
“Some day, when you’ve croaked from too many French fries, they’ll find enough grease in your arteries during the autopsy to grease a 747,” she says to me regularly.
To stave off a lecture so early in the morning, I called, “I’ll order a salad!”
I hurriedly said goodbye after that and rushed out the door.
My bare friend insisted on having the car door opened to him. He sat down haughtily, as if trying to retain some dignity.
I tried my best not to smile, but it’s hard to look noble and respectable when your sitting in a tiny silver Volkswagon with no clothes on, and your face is the color of a boiled lobster. He must have realized this fact too, for he refused to meet my eyes all the way to the office.
I did not stop for breakfast of any kind.
___________
Hey, you! This material is copyrighted. It's the first draft, so it's probably littered with grammer mistakes, continuity errors, and other funny or annoying problems. Regardless, do not quote this material or repost it anywhere in any form, or in any other plane of existence, okay? Thanks!
Chapter One
One Wednesday morning, at 6:30 AM, I rolled over to turn off my alarm and saw the naked man. By naked, I mean just that--naked from head to toe, devoid of any clothes, wearing God’s natural spandex. His sweaty black hair was matted to his head in several places and he looked tired and out of breath.
This naked man was in no way attractive, and he seemed to be as painfully aware of this as I was. He stood with is hands clamped around his front like he was afraid it would jump off and run away, and his face was a brilliant shade of red, especially around the tips of his ears.
I responded the way any man would to finding another person of his own gender in his room--naked--I sprang from my bed and began frantically searching for something, a bat, a lamp, or--even better--a bazooka, to use to defend myself against this nude assailant. I eventually settled for my wife’s ceramic monkey she kept on a our night stand. It was hideous and I had begged her not to buy it. It was $50, and wouldn’t fit anywhere in the house. Besides, it was heavy and would scratch whatever we set it on. Now I was glad she bought it.
After a moment, realization dawned on me as I squared off against this fishy-pale, pudgy man. The man grew increasingly uncomfortable under my stare and turned his back to me, giving me full view of his nude buttocks. He noticed this after a moment and, with his back still turned, put his hands over his exposed derrière.
Moments after he’d done this, the door to our room burst open, and in came my wife with an armful of grocery bags.
Our exposed visitor greeted this new development with horror and dove under our bed with speed belying his plump stature, crying out in shock.
My wife followed my eyes as I watched this, and glanced at me quizzically.
“Honey, what is it?”
I looked up in surprise.
“Nothing, dear, just watching the dust bunnies and thinking about all the paperwork I’ll have today.”
She smiled at me, her radiant beauty filling me with a warmth only a few lucky men know.
“You always seem to carry your work home with you.”
She’s right, I do.
Once my wife had left the room, I helped my nude companion out from under my bed and helped him through the house. He refused to go first, insisting to stay right behind me. When my wife called my name, his eyes widened in horror at the thought of further embarrassment.
“Yes, dear?”
“Where are you going? You haven’t eaten breakfast yet!”
“I’ll grab something from McDonalds on the way to the office.”
I could practically hear my wife’s eyes roll from the kitchen. She detests fast food, and insists on serving only organic food at home.
“Some day, when you’ve croaked from too many French fries, they’ll find enough grease in your arteries during the autopsy to grease a 747,” she says to me regularly.
To stave off a lecture so early in the morning, I called, “I’ll order a salad!”
I hurriedly said goodbye after that and rushed out the door.
My bare friend insisted on having the car door opened to him. He sat down haughtily, as if trying to retain some dignity.
I tried my best not to smile, but it’s hard to look noble and respectable when your sitting in a tiny silver Volkswagon with no clothes on, and your face is the color of a boiled lobster. He must have realized this fact too, for he refused to meet my eyes all the way to the office.
I did not stop for breakfast of any kind.
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