The Curious Case of Mary Ann Receives Favorable Review in Lewis Carroll Society Journal

Greetings, frabjous folkses! Now that I had a moment I wanted to share with you some amazing news. My Wonderland murder mystery, The Curious Case of Mary Ann, was recommended by the reviewer in the May edition of The Lewis Carroll Review, the reviewing journal of the Lewis Carroll Society!

To say, I'm both honored and delighted is an understatement!

If you'd like to check out the review, you can see it online here! (Mary Ann is on pages 17 and 18.)

https://issuu.com/frankendodo/docs/lewis_carroll_review_56_may_2018_on

If you're interested in a copy of The Curious Case of Mary Ann of your very own, you can snag it on Amazon in the countries Amazon serves in ebook, paperback or audiobook forms. (The link for the US one is here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0983804583/ )

I'm currently working on the next book in Mary Ann's adventures. I'm also working on the next humorous sci-fi book in the Greater Communicating Universe, a space caper following the exploits of my character, Rollie Tsmorlood.

That said, what I am still doing here? I have lots of work to do! --Jenn

THE CURIOUS CASE OF MARY ANN is now an audiobook!

When was the last time someone read YOU a story? Well, now actress Emily Lawrence can read you one of MINE because announce my Wonderland-inspired humorous mystery novel, THE CURIOUS CASE OF MARY ANN, is now available on AUDIOBOOK via Audible,Amazon and iTunes! Many thanks to Emily Lawrence for bringing Mary Ann and an amazing array of Tweedles, royals, and dangerous beasties to life. I've always been a big audiobook fan; listening to authors like Terry Pratchett and PG Wodehouse in the car certainly have helped ease my daily commuter angst-- and probably even saved lives. :) So having my own book in audio format is incredibly exciting to me personally, and I hope that you will enjoy the audio adventure, too.

As a reminder, for folks who aren't into audiobooks, the book is also available on Amazon in paperback and ebook form, in the US, UK, Australia, Canada, Germany and many other locations. If you're curious about any of the available versions, you can start your journey here:

US:
https://www.amazon.com/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/B0767MKV38/

UK:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/B0767MHZ68/

Canada:
https://www.amazon.ca/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/B0767LJC29/

Australia:
https://www.amazon.com.au/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/B0767MKV42/

Germany:
https://www.amazon.de/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/B0767NWGWM

Thanks for your time, and happy adventures!
—Jenn

New Humorous Fantasy Novel Out: The Curious Case of Mary Ann

I'm so excited to report that my humorous fantasy novel, THE CURIOUS CASE OF MARY ANN, is now available in both paperback and ebook form in a number of countries. The book is set in Lewis Carroll's Wonderland/Looking Glass Land and has a whimsical gothic mystery bent to it. The summary is as follows:

Things that start with the letter M: Murder... Motives... Mary Ann

Mary Ann Carpenter, housemaid to Wonderland’s White Rabbit, misses all the action when Alice drops into town.

She has her own problems. As witness to the murder of her estranged father, Mary Ann must go under-underground to learn more about the man she barely knew and the motives for his death. But the more she discovers, the more M-words keep coming. Like magic mirrors, monsters, mistaken identity and a murderer who is the mysterious manservant to the Queen of Hearts.

Mary Ann is mightily moved to unmask his malicious machinations, but can she unearth the evidence, expose the killer and keep a cool head?

-----------------------
For folks who enjoyed my THERE GOES THE GALAXY trilogy, this is a little different from that but features a lot of the same sort of character-building and humor.

I hope you'll check it out, if you have a chance!

Paperback:

US: https://www.amazon.com/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/0983804583/
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann/dp/0983804583/


Ebook:

US: https://www.amazon.com/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann-ebook/dp/B073C7MLS3/
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann-ebook/dp/B073C7MLS3/
Australia: https://www.amazon.com.au/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann-ebook/dp/B073C7MLS3/
Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/Curious-Case-Mary-Ann-ebook/dp/B073C7MLS3/

#wonderland #lewiscarroll #books #ebooks #kindle

Writing Project Update and Book Newsletter

Hiya, folks! Long time no write, I know! And why? I have been diligently working on my current book, a humorous fantasy called The Curious Case of Mary Ann!

While it's intended for adults, it's based on Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, set in a version of those lands. It follows the White Rabbit's housemaid Mary Ann, who fans of the original Wonderland might recall was mysteriously absent from the home when Alice showed up.

In my novel, Mary Ann is caught up in her own trials and tribulations, including trying to solve a series of murders, hunting a Jabberwock, performing backwards chores, and rescuing a Knight from his lost sense of humor.

You won't have to have read either Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass to enjoy the book-- I'm working hard to make it understandable for everybody-- but I think folks who are fans of the stories, as I am, will have mad fun with it. And people who enjoyed my There Goes the Galaxy series should feel at home here rather quickly.

I'm about 35,000 words into the first draft, which translates to being between a third and halfway through.

That said, I am building a email list for anyone who would like to be notified about book releases and other news. Don't worry-- I would not email very often. I've just found that social media, like Facebook and Twitter, is a little spotty and doesn't reach all the of the people who sign up to see my posts. So if you would like to sign up, just fill out the form below and follow the easy instructions.

I hope all is well with you guys! Thanks so much for stopping by! --Jenn

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

My Next Book Project, Wonderland-Inspired "The Curious Case of Mary Ann"

I figured it would be a good idea to clue you good folks here into what I've been up to since finishing the There Goes the Galaxy trilogy. (While I remember, The Purloined Number is on sale this week only on Amazon for $0.99 and reduced similarly on international Amazon sites, so if you haven't grabbed a copy, you can get it here in the US:  https://www.amazon.com/Purloined-Number-There-Goes-Galaxy-ebook/dp/B00FLYGDWE/ and in the UK here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00FLYGDWE/)

But as I was saying, I have a new book project I'm working on. It will still be humorous, but this time it will have a Victorian Gothic fantasy spin. It's based on characters from Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, but with a number of people and twists you might not expect. It's called The Curious Case of Mary Ann and I'm really excited about it. I've been a Lewis Carroll fan ever since I was a kid. The stories just spoke to me because they took such a magical, playful look at life. You could find wonder and mystery in something as simple as a cake or a tiny door, the unexpected places between. I want to tap into that aspect of it.

So to give you a sense of it, I thought you might enjoy just a taste of the draft I'm working. Likely this will change a bit in subsequent drafts, but I think it sets a tone.
_______

How many Unbirthdays was it for the Queen so far this year? Three? Four? Mary Ann Carpenter wondered, as she wound along the path to her father’s house. At least three, she tallied, the last one still quite vivid in her mind. Oh, the FUSS Mr. Rabbit made about having his uniform just so, and the gift presented thus and his coronet polished to a dazzling shine. As if Mary Ann would ever fail him in any of those tasks. As if she had some long history of negligence—of slatternly methods—and hadn’t been running the household silently, smoothly, all along.

And now the fussing had begun anew. Mary Ann only prayed the Queen’s latest gift would live up to expectations. The young housemaid had truly stuck her neck out for this. She wasn’t even sure how it happened. Her employer had been working himself into the usual tizzy over Royal gift-giving, and in a mad moment of actual vocalization Mary Ann heard herself say WORDS. And those words suggested Mary Ann’s very own father should craft the piece for the Queen’s special day. She’d baffled herself with the very sound of it. This was a land where outstretched necks met the swift, sharp chop of the executioner’s axe should Her Highness not be properly delighted.

Now she wished she hadn’t spoken at all.

Mary Ann’s father was, of course, not only a talented contractor but the finest woodworker around. He put real passion into the items he carved, and Mr. Rabbit had commissioned a piece that was likely to astound. The designs alone had been enough to send the furry gentleman’s gloved hands a-flutter, whiskers quivering in anticipation, sweet words predicting a future of royal favoritism, rich comfort and bright possibility.

Draft one of Tryfling Matters, Done and Dusted!

Well, as of last evening, draft one of Tryfling Matters (There Goes the Galaxy book three) is done. 

To quote Captain Amazing from the movie Mystery Men: "Is it perfect? No. And that's what I like about it!" 

I admit to shedding a few joyful tears as I figured out my last scene and my last few words. A lot has happened since poor psychology grad student Bertram Ludlow was abducted by aliens from his basement apartment. A lot has happened for me, too, while putting these books out there. 

I would like to take the opportunity to once again thank everybody for being so supportive. The words of encouragement, the book in-jokes, the honest reviews and the word-of-mouth have all helped inspire me to continue rolling forward.

There's lots of work still ahead of me, of course, and I have a list of items I still want to integrate that's as long as my character Rollie's intergalactic rap sheet. But right now the draft is something tangible I can hold and reread-- and most of all, it's something to work from. I feel like it's on the right track.

So, today, I leave you with that stellar news and a little excerpt I'd had fun with in the first draft: 

Rolliam Tsmorlood had a limited experience with those newly-born to the planet Tryfe. But he was pretty sure Tryflings of the infant persuasion were more into Toe Discovery and Disproportionate Head Management than they were completely unnecessary combat rolls and ducking behind park benches.  

It was this last movement in the crowd that caught his eye. 

By the way, the image at the top of the page was something I doodled when I was struggling a little writing a chapter. It's my character Rollie in his personal library and print museum on the planet Ejellan. As a friend pointed out, his tastes in books are pretty diverse-- basically whatever he can get his hands on-- though he does tend to enjoy various philosophies and cultural texts.

Take care, good people of Tryfe!

It's No Fun Being An Illegal Alien: Tryfling Mattters Book Excerpt

I'm still working on Tryfling Matters (There Goes the Galaxy Book 3) and have reached 42,000 words, so it's been some good progress. I thought you all might enjoy a quick snippet of what I've been working on. (No plot spoilers, so don't worry!)

In a recent scene set on Earth (Tryfe), my character Bertram uses the excuse that Rollie, who is from the planet Hyphiz Delta, is from Holland. Rollie's still trying to get his arms around the idea:

“I’m from Holland,” Rollie grumbled as they walked from the bus stop on their way to the ship. He’d been unusually quiet the whole bus trip back to Shadyside. “I’m… Hollandaise… now.”

Bertram stifled a laugh. "Wherever you heard that word? Just: no."

“Well, I wouldn't know, would I? It's why I've always kept things vague with Tryfe people.”

"Dutch," said Bertram. "You'd be Dutch."

"Dutch?! How the frag do you get that from--"

Rozz patted his shoulder. “Chill out, Rollie. That’s why it’s perfect. This is the U.S. Not knowing anything about the rest of the world is a total badge of honor. You’ll be golden.”

Rollie seemed unsure. “Maybe I can find some books on it.”

“Look,” said Bertram, “tulips, windmills, wooden shoes, water, legalized drugs and prostitution. That’s all the average person here knows. It’s a non-issue.”

“So like Vos Laegos with impractical footwear and wind power?” Rollie smiled. “I should visit sometime; research.”

Artsplosion, Ideas and Tees, Oh My!

For a person who often feels like I really don't do anything, it sure appears as if I've been very busy! Over the weekend, I was tackling the Amazon rainforest that was my backyard, transforming it from a home to lost 1930s adventurers and junglemen swinging from vines, to a reasonably tame Secret Garden.

I'm pleased with the results-- the evicted anaconda and piranha, less so. Plus, George Challenger's served me with cease and desist papers and Tarzan's been picketing. So there's that to deal with.

But, while I was scything back the underbrush, it gave me plenty of time to think about scenes for the last book in my There Goes the Galaxy trilogy, Tryfling Matters. I'm about 100 manuscript pages in and I know where I want it to end, but I'm plotting out the structure for a strong, fun middle. You know the kind; if it were a person, it would be a middle with good abs.

In the evenings, to help keep the creativity going, I've been doing a lot of drawing. Some have been illustrations from scenes from my first two books. And some of it has been whatever's popped in mind. 

You can see above, I attempted David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor of Doctor Who last night. I thought he turned out pretty Tennanty, but I've since been informed that he looks like: 1.) Harrison Ford 2.) both Japanese AND Korean 3.) His nose is wibbly-wobbly. (I imagine that last one is because it's half-stuck in another dimension. The TARDIS is clearly rough on the sinuses.)

So I'm glad I was set straight on all that. :)

I also decided to try my hand at ol' Captain Jack Sparrow.

I had to try to draw one of my favorite superheroes from childhood, Batgirl...

(The book she's reading is "Work-Life Balance.")

I did another couple of doodles based on There Goes the Galaxy characters... Bertram and Rollie in the Shop-o-Drome on Golgi-Beta from the first book...

And a Charlie's Angels spoof of Tseethe, Fess and Rollie, all characters from my Intergalactic Underworld. There's no slight intended in making Kate Jackson's character a squidoid, by the way. That's just Fess. :)

I did a few Alice in Wonderland doodles using a steampunk theme. This is Alice searching for the Jabberwock with her Vorpal Sword...

And her companion, the Cheshire Clock, all by himself in a paper umbrella tree.

I tried a more traditional Alice down the rabbit hole, really testing out that gravity...

And one of my favorites, the White Rabbit, chillaxing there in his favorite chair...

Here is a different version of the Queen of Hearts I attempted... I wanted her to be less Queen Elizabeth or Queen Victoria influenced and more Scarlett O'Hara, for a change...

And this was followed by a drawing of The White Queen, which turned out kind of creepy and intense. I was going for a little Galadriel and Joan of Arc...

An investment in some monochrome grey markers had me try a little Dorothy in Kansas action...

And I thought I'd do one in color as well.

Because I had some folks on social media forums request it, I've posted a few of these and some other ones as small posters in a Zazzle shop. I have those there along with some t-shirt designs based on the There Goes the Galaxy stories. Folks who have read the books will understand the references. You can check them out here: 

http://www.zazzle.com/jennthorsondesigns*

So that's about it for me right now! This weekend, I plan to finish the rest of my book's metaphorical ab workout, and we'll see what else awaits. I probably should do something about Tarzan and his chimp buddies picketing outside my house. I've explained to him he doesn't have squatter's rights, but it's like talking to a brick wall.

The Duality of Day Jobs... Plus Youtube Channel Fun

It's an interesting thing when you're a writer with a day job, particularly when your day job is high stress and deadline-oriented, yet your fiction writing is in a genre as playful and quirky as humorous sci-fi.

During the day, people know you as professional. Responsible. Boring. Restrained even. The one who takes care of the tasks nobody really wants to do, simply because they have to get done. 

Then at night, early mornings and on weekends, you suddenly transform into that weird chick who's writing that even stranger book series with all the off-beat aliens in it. The one who jokes and has fun and who views no idea as too outrageous for at least some consideration.

It's a little like being a superhero, only without the heroism, superpowers or spandex.

You have to block out one to be the other.

This week has been a bit high stress during the day, to be honest. So it's been particularly enjoyable to me, acting out these various audio readings from the There Goes the Galaxy books. I've posted a last one-- this is from the first book-- above. And if you like these and want to listen to more of them, they're housed right now on a YouTube channel. Give it a Subscribe on YouTube, if it's something that launches yer rockets. :) I may add more as the spirit moves. The channel is here:

http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBeC9G_DzC4UAG2f9HVxtgA

And if you have friends who like it when authors read them stories, I'd appreciate it if you'd pass the word along. I'm still contemplating whether there will be a full audiobook in the future, and whether I'd just get someone professional and cosmic to read the thing. (In other words, someone who definitely isn't me.)

Anyway, that's what I have on tap for you good people today. I plan to do some writing on the third There Goes the Galaxy book-- Tryfling Matters-- this weekend. It's been good progress so far, and while the draft is rough, it's the kind of foundation the tale needs.

Happy weekend. And may all your off-hours be stellar. :) --Jenn

On Introversion and Sci-fi Audiobook Excerpts, Now With Bad British Accent!

I decided to consider it a character-building exercise (pun unintended, but applicable) to act out and record a couple more snippets of my second book. It's an interesting sort of dichotomy I feel about these things. There's that introverted part of me-- the writer who discovers hours have melted away while imaginary worlds sprout up-- that understands the satisfaction is in the ideas and process itself. The something from nothing. The personal challenge.

Then there's the part of me that knows the real tangibility of a creation is not always in one's own head, but when it resides with others, too. As if it becomes More Real with each person it meets.

Now when I write, I read aloud all the time. It's a great tool for flow, for making dialogue sound natural and for figuring out what should be cut. It is also uniquely personal because it means committing characters to a sort of tone. Like illustration, it means offering some sort of guide to the reader of, "This is what I was thinking so-and-so was like."

So as I contemplated doing any readings, I initially hesitated. Did I really want my version of the reading-- my amateur acting, my interpretation and most of all, my bad British accent (for whatever reason, my alien character Rollie has always sounded English)-- out there guiding readers?

But here's the thing I decided. It's genuine. It was the best I can do for this moment. And as a writer, you can only keep those walls up so long before you can't see over them yourself. If I were taking them down, I might as well give it my all and go the whole way.

So at the top of the page, you'll find part one of chapter two. And here you will find the second part of that.

It's not perfect, but it was fun. And the view from over the wall is not bad at all.

Dusty Doodly Disasters, Googley Groupy Goodness and Snowy Sequestering

In my hand, I have a mixed bag of stuff to share-- sort of like when I help out at the grocery checkout and hastily stuff the eggs and leaky shampoo in the same bag as a crisp, sparkly greeting card.

I'll start with the informative stuff first. For any of you folks who are on GooglePlus, my There Goes the Galaxy series now has its own page:

google.com/+JennthorsonThereGoestheGalaxy

Circle it there, and you'll get regular updates on book progress, general story and character discussions... whatever propels your Intergalactic Cruise Vessel.

Second item: I bet you're wondering what the heck that image is up at the top of the page. That is an illustration I'd tried to do about 15 years ago, by drawing with a mouse on my computer in a paint program. It was for a There Goes the Galaxy sequel book that was SO BAD-- ("How bad was it?")-- it was SO BAD it had to be stabbed, shot, hung, drawn, quartered and dragged behind a horse in little bits just to make sure it was dead.

BUT I figured some of you might enjoy getting to see my inept renderings of Bertram (featured in his borrowed Popeelie cloak), Xylith and Rollie. So happiness and purpose abide!

Lastly: given the crappy weather predicted to descend upon us this weekend, I plan to hide away working on the last book in the trilogy. The benefit to it being so cold even the SnowMiser buys a ticket to Miami is that I can actually get some fiction work done. (Read that as: "My cats can sit between me and the keyboard and edit me.")

What are you folks up to this weekend? Anything good?
--Jenn

Howdy, Strangers!

Greetings, friends! And long time, no see! I've been away for ages due to a 330-some page baby called The Purloined Number. It's the second humorous sci-fi book in my There Goes the Galaxy trilogy, and it pretty well sucked the time from my days and the energy from my blogging fingers. But on the plus side, it was great fun to write and I'm really happy with the direction the characters have taken.

My friend, Dave White, did this cover as well--and I think he outdid himself. I mean... LOOK at the spacely awesomeness! The man was making planets, fer Pete's sake—and then, on the seventh day he rested and ordered delivery.

Anyway, the book came out in paperback in late September, and in ebook versions in early October. It's on Amazon, Barnes and Noble online and Smashwords, if you're curious and want to take a gander.

So far, the reviews are pretty stellar.

That out of the way, I'm hoping to get back to updating this site more often now, while I work on the final There Goes the Galaxy book. (The one jokingly called: There Goes the Galaxy: No Fraggin' Title Yet.)

Hope things have been well for you all, and I look forward to getting to interact with you again!

Tag-- Er, I'm It!

One of my writer friends, Whitney of the Write in Life blog, tagged me with something called "the 777 Challenge." This is a game where instead of pegging me with a dusty eraser in the head, as one does in an effective tag if I recall properly (I might not recall properly due to eraser/head impact), Whitney asked me to complete a feat of blogly derring-do...

A little like Festivus' feats of strength, really, but with sentences.

The task is to post seven sentences from my latest work in progress from either the seventh or 77 page of the book. And then tag seven other authors to do the same.

"Easy," you say. "Who can't type in a few sentences from something you've already written?" But see, usually I don't let people look, touch or even breathe on stuff I have in first draft form.

I mean, first draft work is so bad that even I don't really want to have to look at it. Only I do. Because, well, much like the dishes in my sink, no one will get it done for me. Also like crusty dishes, I feel it stinks more when I expose a first draft to air. Usually things have to have a good fifth draft or so before they're all all scrubbed and shiny enough to meet a friend or two.

So, I want it noted that I will probably be having heart palpitations about this, sending seven stinking crap, unedited first draft sentences out into the world to fight their own battles when they are so young and weak and smelly.

But because Whitney asked-- and also because I haven't posted in a while and have been feeling guilty-- here goes. This is from page seven of the second There Goes the Galaxy book I've been working diligently on, called The Purloined Number.

"So you know what this means, don't you?" mused the eldest being. "This means this isn't just any Protostar 340-K. This is Captain What's-His-Name's--" 

"Rolliam Tsmorlood," input Strah. 

"--Rolliam Tsmorlood's Protostar 340-K. This isn't just one of the worst ships ever made in the Greater Communicating Universe. This is a pivotal entertainment prop once owned by an historic Underworld figure who was exiled to Altair-5 for his crimes, and likely is at the bottom of a tarpit by now."

Phew! That hurt a little. And I hope you had your gasmasks on.

Okay, now, the second part of this mighty challenge is to tag seven other writers and task them to do the same thing. But, see, the thing is, most people I know really hate being tagged.

So here's the deal-- if the challenge seems fun to you and you're working on a writing project, I say-- feel free to tag yourself. This is like a blank check for tagging. Tag away.

I have no fulfilled my part of of the tag challenge. I'm going to go have a cold compress and lie down.

Oh, and if you're curious about There Goes the Galaxy, my thoroughly-edited book that does not make me nauseous or fearful to share, it's available in paperback and Kindle version here on Amazon, and for Nook here.

The Lightness of Being Not Sued

So the reason for my recent e-silence is I decided to take the bull by the horns-- in a metaphorical way, since I generally prefer to keep a safe distance from muscular, pointy livestock-- and independently publish my novel.

It's been a lot of work but a lot of fun so far, though my brain has not quite been able to balance it with blogging. For that, I apologize. I expect soon I'll be back on a normal posting schedule.

Anyway, the joys associated with self-publishing have been things like getting to choose a book size and seeing my content flowed in there looking all Real, and Grown-Up and Legitimate.

And also finally being freed from carrying around a double-spaced manuscript binder roughly the size of the entire Library of Congress.

The surprises are in going through the text and realizing those questions I'd had, which I'd imagined would be answered by a savvy publisher are now going to have to be answered by YOURS TRULY.

Today, I'm specifically referring to a scary incident with song lyrics.

I had a section-- and I won't give details so I don't ruin the surprise for any future readers-- which really depended on using four lines from a particular song. The section was one that, after editing it a bazillion times over the years, I still actually liked. (Which, any other writers out there will understand, that is huge. I mean, if you don't loathe your own work for a few hours every few days or so, you probably aren't working on it hard enough.)

So I thought I'd do a spot of research and just see how much of any song could be used under Fair Use.

And the answer is.... None. Do not do it. Do not even think about doing it. In fact, do not even think about thinking about doing it because the mighty hammer of the Music Industry will come crashing down on you like a telephone pole-sized drumstick to a tiny toy snare drum.

This left me in a hot, sweaty panic for a good five minutes or so. I mean, where do you go from there? Do you 1.) remove a scene which is actually important to the plot? Do you 2.) paraphrase, taking all the edge off the funny? Do you 3.) weep a little and dream of what could have been, if only?

Well, for the last day or two (after a shameful minute of option 3 up there), I sat down and started making up my own song lyrics. Song lyrics for a singer who, up until now, did not exist.

With my past experience as part of an equally fake heavy metal band (you may get some laughs from that tale here, if you haven't already read it) thankfully, this has not been as difficult as I had expected.

Plus, there's a certain heady elation in knowing one has dodged the Giant Drumstick of Doom. And I figure if I have prevented one other writer from finding it crash down upon his or her personal drumhead, I will have done my job.

Drafting a Novel: Lessons Learned, Albatrosses Groomed and the First Day of Kindergarten

I finished the full draft of my novel last week-- that loose-leaf albatross that's kept me company for many months, hanging around my neck and weighing heavily on my mind.

And now that I've shed it, and started the serious Albatross Grooming Process we call "Editing Like Ya Mean It," I thought I'd share a few favorite things I learned along the way.


Everyone you know is also writing a book...
Or has a Best-Selling Idea for a book...

Or has been thinking they might think about writing their memoirs of that one wacky time in college with the thing and the stuff.

It's pretty cool to learn that the only thing holding 75% of our populace back from winning the Pulitzer Prize for literature-- or kicking Dan Brown's symbolically-coded butt off the NYTimes list-- is that this material just hasn't been committed to paper yet.

So be prepared that when folks ask where you've been hiding yourself away lately, and you mention the novel, everyone from your cousin to your mail carrier will reveal themselves to be the next Rowlingpalinclancykerouac.

Thankfully, there is room for everyone.


You'll start rewriting history for your characters, like you were PR for a political candidate. With the whole book together, you start to see scenes where your character is saying and doing things he never would have done once you actually got to know him, on page 521. Maybe it was the day you drank too much coffee. Or weren't feeling the motivation. Or you were distracted by... oh... a really noisy SunChip bag.

So you sit your character down and tell him, "No, you didn't say that. You said this. This is more you." He might recall very well having once held strong opinions on migrant workers or a new ketchup bottle, and now it's wiped away.

But like in politics, soon with careful attention, spin, and the Wonders of Word Processing, you'll make him forget-- as if it never was. There might only be some lingering discomfort.


There is a special panicky moment when you realize someone might read what you've written.
Talking about the writing process is always fun. It's safe. It's intangible. "It's a work-in-progress," you say fleet-footedly. "It's too soon."

You can stall so nicely with vagaries to the point your material gains in Fabulousness an amount inversely proportionate to the quantity of people who never, ever see it.

But once the novel's actually done, and all your friends have been hearing the blah-blah about it for years, suddenly they get this idea they might want to...oh, I dunno... read it.

And it turns into the first day of kindergarten for your novel. As in, you know very well the novel might still pick its nose in public and may not always use its Indoor Voice. But you have to let go sometime, right?


You begin creating elaborate scenarios of how people will misread what you've written.
The less you describe, the more readers will grab onto what you did say and try to interpret it their own way. And you start to worry your demure heroine will become rumored to be a crack-smoking Lady of the Evening with narcolepsy. And her dog will suddenly become symbolic of her desperate need for control in a male-dominated society.

You envision your simple childrens book about a squirrel who forgot where he buried his nuts will become your personal treatise about the nation's hoarding problem.

Once it's on paper and before eyeballs, it's out of your control.


You realize you've been on a Manuscript One-Arm Strength Training Program, from carrying 500+ page double-spaced draft everywhere you go.
Fifty pounds of dog kibble will seem like cotton swabs to your mighty physical power now.


You will have to boil down years' worth of blood, sweat, snot and brain oozage into a few heart-pounding, eye-popping, irresistable sentences if any agents or editors are ever going to pay attention to it. The giant stack of manuscript pages will seem like a happy day at the beach compared to this. It's fitting War and Peace on a fortune cookie. And you don't get room for that nifty Chinese Word of the Day either.


No one will understand why it's taken you so long to write the damned thing, because, heck, James Caan only spent a few weeks writing that whole Misery Chastaine novel-- his best one ever-- and he even spent half his day trying to break out of Kathy Bates' house.

Wasting Away in GrammarNannyVille

I suppose it's bound to happen. Whatever your passion or trade, you get sucked into it like a nameless horror movie extra into a giant squid. Eventually, the monster of your making has digested you so thoroughly, you don't know what's you anymore and what's the squid.

It's that way for me with copy editing.

All on its own and often against my will, my brain dissects every TV commercial, all product packaging, every sign, and web ad, and spam email like my salary depends on it.

This doesn't mean I myself am Grammar Goddess in my own work-- typo and flaw-free. Oh, no! Would that it were so!...

I can mis-homonym with the best of 'em!..

My prepositions cling to the end of sentences like nobody's business!...

And my infinitives are totally split, baby!

It just means I will look at an ad like the one for Ritz Crackerfuls I saw recently. Its tagline read:

Real Cheese. Real Whole Grain. Real Satisfying.

And my stupid copyediting brain automatically chimed in:

'"'Really.' It's 'Really Satisfying. The recent informal adverb use of 'real' still isn't commonly accepted as a substitute for 'really' and--"

That's when I considered hitting myself on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Perhaps negative reinforcement might do me some good.

In other cracker issues, there was my box of Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits. Now, as far as my personal tastebuds go, Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits are Nature's (or Nabisco's) Most Perfect Food.

I mean, if I were the witch in Hansel and Gretel, I would have totally forsaken the carbs and sugar rush and gone for a stylish cottage of fragrant, savory woven snack crackers.

But Triscuit's marketing copy on that beautiful yellow box made my petty, picayune brain complain.

"We like to think of Soft White Winter Wheat as a cashmere of wheat because of its soft texture and delicious taste."

Now, I don't know about you, but while I love the softness of cashmere almost as much as I love Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits... I personally haven't tasted it.

I do appreciate you, Triscuit People, I truly do-- but your metaphor? It applies to moths.

Then this week I noticed my One-A-Day VitaCraves-- basically Gummi bear vitamins for adult people-- are serving size... two.

The marketing contraditions of taking two One-A-Days daily required another newspapery whack to the nose just to bring me back from GrammarNannyVille.

And last-- because you all already can see the sick life a compulsive copy editor leads...

You know the ads for the Capital One Venture Card with the band of medieval ruffians getting into trouble on the slopes?

Well, in one scene, these Vikings-on-holiday purchase tickets for themselves and beloved livestock for the ski lift.

"Two adults and one goat, please?" Olaf the Impulsive asks.

And every time I hear this, the annoying Brainy Smurf in my head pipes up:

"You know, it would have been so much funnier if they'd said 'kid' instead of 'goat'.

"Like two adults and one child... only it's a baby goat which is also called a 'kid'?

"It's a pun, you see, and so..."

And that's when my inner Brainy Smurf gets tossed on his head. No one likes a Grammar Nanny.

Tell me- is there anything you go compulsive on whether you like it or not?

Humor Blog News, Brain Dissection, and Mom Turns Japanese Chef

Happy Friday, Friends o' Cabbages!-- (or Happy Whenever You're Reading This; let's not be Day Discriminatory)--

To start today's bloggy humorificness, I first have a happy bit of business I want to share.

It appears for the last two years, my brain has been partitioned into many sections. There is:

• The Cabbagulum Obligata-- The part of the brain that plans Of Cabbages and Kings humor posts. It keeps track of, and writes up, blogly humor three times a week on a fairly rigid, entirely self-dictated schedule
  

• The Thriftus Packratocio-- The section that controls me picking up weird crap from thrift stores and writing about that two times a week for my other blog on an equally rigid, self-imposed schedule because, apparently, I am my own personal fascist dictator
  

• The Instantaneous Deadlinula NowNowNowus- The area which handles all the last-minute work writing panics and customer service tasks that inevitably crop-up, drawing energy away from sections one and two

• The Novelium Guilticanus- The part of the brain that pushes me to finish the humor space adventure novel I've been writing, knowing full-well it's a pretty fun tale and will, at least, be better in someone's hands than in a drawer. It's the part of the noggin that says once you have a back-breaking 363 manuscript pages and a complete outline, you are a stupid, lazy bugger if you don't finish the rest of the tale. Then it chains you to your computer desk and serves you bread and water until you crack.
  

• The Novelium Procrastinatorius- The part of the brain that assesses the other parts of the brain and determines that, yes, I can actually put off finishing my novel for another year, even though I enjoy the project, don't have much more to write, and know I need to get my posterior in gearior.

• Steve- The part of the brain that has no idea what all the hustle-bustle is about in the other Brain Locales, and really would prefer to just turn off, chill out and watch some Netflix with a beer. Steve lives in a jar on my endtable.
  

So, with all of these brain parts vying for attention, it occurred to me that I could eliminate the Novelium Procrastinatorius once and for all-- and truly concentrate on the frigging novel using an attention span slightly longer than your average fruit fly-- if only I had a few less blog posts to write a week.

That said, Cabbages will now be published once a week-- I'm thinking Tuesdays, but am open to suggestions taking into account Readers' personal convenience-- until I get this novel wrapped up. I imagine, it'll be the summer.

The good news here is, having freed up this bit of space in the brain (which is dusty and still full of clutter and probably needs Clean House to stop by), I have already written up about 20 new pages of novel content, and am pleased with the progress so far.

In some ways, I feel like I'm copping out in not being able to balance it all in quantity. But that's probably just the Cabbagulum Obligata speaking.

________________________________________________

In other completely different news-- like the actual press-- I just read that a Japanese restaurant in Australia-- called Wafu-- has ruled that all guests must finish everything on their plates under threat of a penalty fee. Those that waste food will be asked to never darken the restaurant's door again.

Future restaurant policies under evaluation include making patrons sit in the corner for not putting their napkins in their lap, and having them write, "I will use my salad fork for salad only" 100 times as punishment for rampant utensil misuse.

Okay, so I made those last two up. But I did have to double-check that my mother wasn't actually still alive and just hiding these past twelve years as a Japanese chef in Australia.

I recall vividly having a Battle of Good Versus Evil with Mom about mashed potato consumption, as a child.

Our War of Wills led me to sit at the kitchen table until bedtime, with a plate of potatoes before me reminiscent of a particularly memorable scene in Close Encounters.

We also enjoyed a sequel the next evening, featuring the very same all-spud cast.

Mom would totally have been on board with the idea of a wasted food fine. Docking, I dunno, ten cents out of my 50 cent per week allowance for doing the dishes for each potato glob left behind would have definitely had an appeal to her.

Food for thought for you parents with fussy eaters out there! :)

Anyway, that about wraps up Cabbages for today. Hope all the parts of your brains are currently hanging out, having a blast and ready to party for the weekend.

If so, can I send Steve along? His schedule's free and he'll bring beer.

Job Interviews for Daytime Soap Opera Characters

On Twitter, I spied a Tweet about a soap opera my mom watched years ago. It paired a character I remembered (and who I kinda thought died) with someone I'd never heard of before.

And that got me thinking...

Can you imagine what conducting a job interview would be like with your standard, long-running daytime soap opera character ? Can you imagine asking them to actually sit down and comprehensively summarize parts of their lives?

I thought I'd take a crack at it:


Interviewer: So, Ms. Charlarae Minton-Barber, is it? Have a seat.


Charlarae: Oh, it's Minton-Escobar now. I just remarried last week.


Interviewer: Congratulations.


Charlarae: Yes, I could no longer take the mercurial nature of my husband, Roderick Barber, the compellingly-mysterious yet abusive shipping magnate/jewel thief who's been gaslighting me for the last two years in order to get my fortune.

So I got an annulment on the grounds I married him during my case of amnesia (the third case: the other two times I wasn't single then)...

And now, with the annulment in place, I finally married the man of my dreams. My Peruvian, one-legged stableboy, Paco....

He may only have one leg, but his lovin' is still muy calliente!


Interviewer: Um... yes, well....

Okay, Mrs. Escobar. Maybe we should just move on to the job. The position, as you know, is curator for SunnyOakGroveDale's fine art gallery. So tell me a little bit about your qualifications in this area.


Charlarae: Well, as it says on my resume, when I lost my eyesight during my second bout of amnesia, I was found by a group of traveling artisans. I didn't know my name, where I lived or remember I owned half of SunnyOakGroveDale. But, oddly, I could see the most beautiful pictures of it all in my mind.

This ragtag group of kind, creative gypsies helped me bring my artistic talents to the surface, in spite of the infirmity that kept my world in darkness.

There I painted under the name of "Chrysalis" for a number of months, developing quite a reputation for myself in the field.

It was, in fact, the painting I did of my then-husband, Count Francois deMonais-- his noble face still lingering in my amnesiac mind-- that helped him find me again. The portrait was such a hit with critics for its power and sensitivity, I was drawn reluctantly into the limelight and Francois recognized my photo in the newspaper.


Interviewer: (writing) Has... experience... with... art.

(Looks up)

Now, Mrs. Escobar, an important part of being a curator for our gallery is in networking. What skills do you bring to the table?


Charlarae: Well, I know lots of people. In fact, I must be related by blood or marriage to almost everyone in this town--

Wait!-- not maybe the waiter down at the club. What's his name?... Randall.

-- No, no, I take that back. Actually, Randall is the father of my stepniece Claire's baby, Angela. He got her pregnant last Fall during the flood, when they were trapped on that roof as the water surged around them, just at the time Claire was actually supposed to be at the church getting married to Paolo, our Italian exchange student.

So yes, I'm related by blood or marriage to everyone in this town.


Interviewer: (writing) Has... connections.

Okay. One last question for you, then, Mrs. Escobar.

Why, with no formal artistic training, do you believe that you can be curator of this gallery?

Charlarae: Well, I didn't need training or even work experience when I became the high fashion buyer for one of SunnyOakGroveDale's hottest and most elite boutiques...

I just stumbled into the role of head chef of La Plate Vide, one of the city's most famous restaurants. Until that point, no one had actually seen me so much as nuke a Hot Pocket.

And for a brief time, I was a neurosurgeon... Though, to be honest, we don't like to talk about that much. That was before my first amnesia and I was practically a whole other person then.

She was a brunette.

So, you can see, I've been excelling in fields I've never studied for, for years. I'm just lucky that way, I guess.


Interviewer: (writing) Naturally... qualified.... no... need.... to.... check.... references.

Okay, Ms. Escobar, I think I have enough information. We still have other candidates to meet, but we'll contact you in two business days. Which is actually three months of daytime episodes. So, I'll talk to you during Sweeps Week.

Thank you for your time today.


Charlarae: You're quite welcome. But I... I... (she blinks confusedly)... I'm sorry. I just had a little flash there.... (blinking) Who are you again?....

And-- if you don't mind sharing-- who do you think I might be?

----------------------------------------------
Happy Friday to you, folks!

The Completely Unfactual Facts About Writer's Block

Did you know...?

• The amount of beverage you consume while writing is inversely proportionate to how unmotivated you are. A writer experiencing serious writer's block can consume up to three two-liter bottles of soda, 24 12-ounce-containers of beverage, or the entire contents of the Hoover Dam (non-drought-season) in the quest to avoid actually typing or thinking. Severe writer's block has been known to lead to kidney damage, incontinence, and regional flash-flooding.

• Typical writer's block has been known to skew programming choices and even Nielsen ratings. A university study of 100 bloggers with severe writer's block demonstrated that a 24-hour Full House marathon suddenly contained the riveting power of actual, quality programming for 97% of study participants. This is believed to explain the ABC Family Fall lineup. It is also believed that the entire CSI family of television shows was a result of writer's block, based on the premise, "I hear Miami's nice this time of year" and "I like New York in June."
  

• More houses in America are cleaned each week as a result of writer's block than sticking to the floor, or any other reason. This includes impending visits from mother-in-laws, holidays, and spontaneous pet explosions.
  

• (1) Guilt and large, (2) angry bill collectors named Rocco are rated the two highest motivators to get over writer's block. This is followed by (3) rabid writing fans waiting nearby with hobbling tools.

• While it's believed Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Kubla Khan was left unfinished due to writer's block, this is untrue. He'd actually tried out several alternate endings, one eventually setting the entire plot in space where Khan seeks to destroy his enemies with deadly technology and eventually is blown up on his ship, Xanadu. Tentatively titled The Wrath of Kubla Khan, at the last minute Coleridge determined the premise was absurd, that the dialog for Khan's nemesis was stilted and over-dramatic, and nixed it.

• A hot shower is the single most effective cure for writer's block. It is believed an osmotic process takes place as a counter-balance to the beverages cycle as discussed in point one.

• St. Francis de Sales is the patron saint of writers... While, St. Francis de Mist-Dedlyne is the patron saint of writer's block. He can be identified in illuminated manuscripts and statuary holding the symbol of the nibless quill, empty inkwell and the hugging sloth.

• Words may hurt, but 15% of Stephen King characters are actually murdered as related to writer's block. Also possession by evil spirits, adherence to poignant horror genre cliches, and John Turturro.
  

• Many people don't realize Descartes' famous philosophical proverb, "I think, therefore I am" was actually an unfinished sentence. He'd tried out "I think, therefore I am sleepy," "I think, therefore I am due for a holiday," and "I think, therefore I am needing an aspirin as this headache is frikkin' killing me." Yet none of them quite had the feel he was going for. Eventually he abandoned it, which became the insightful philosophy we know today.

Do you have a completely unfactual fact about writer's block to contribute? Add it here! Or don't. Have a sandwich and bath instead. And a sixth cup of coffee. You know you wanna.
--------------------------------------
Humorbloggers
Humor-blogs

Bullets and Bad Comma: a Tale of Grammar Noir

The phone rang— I made an em-dash for it. A man was on the line. He said he had colon problems. I told him I was an editor, not a proctologist. He said that was swell, and he'd be right over.

He showed up at the office with a preposition for me. I said, is that a pen in your pocket, or are you happy to see me? He opened his coat to reveal his piece. A powerful little number but bulky. I asked him to put it slowly on the table so we could get down to work.

He hesitated, asking me for a quote first. I gave him two, telling him he'd need both for later.

Then he said he was ready to show me the colon. I saw right away he had a nice asterisk, but had to force myself to look beyond his dangling participle. It was totally out of whack, and I didn't want to embarrass him this soon in the meeting.

Well, it turns out he was wrong. The colon was listing, all right, but it looked like the rest had been hit by a semi-.

I explained the clause of his troubles twice. He wasn't getting it. "Do I need to draw you a diagram?" I asked.

I didn't want to compound his frustration; he was a client, after all. I was just wondering how we could find unity on this, when we reached a conjunction. That's when he hit me with the complement. "You're the definite article," he said, drawing me close.

Suddenly, our ellipse met... something I never would have predicated. It was like a spell.

And that's when the grammar police burst through the door. Turns out, my client was wanted in three states for adverb abuse.

Quickly, suddenly, nervously, desperately, he pulled his piece on them. And that was all the evidence they needed.

Soon we were in a court down at the capital. It was an upper case. Things were tense, as we worried about our past, present and future.

Then the judge read the sentence.

The collective had spoken and there was agreement. Guilty as charged!

I tried to explain it was just bad comma, but I could see we were at an end mark. They threw the book at him. The sentence. It had us in fragments. We both suffixed terribly. In fact, we still suffix.

Because we were -ment to be together. And that's all that matters.

Period.

--------------------------------------
Humorbloggers
Humor-blogs