I read a cool novella yesterday and posted a review. I really love short form fiction, and that love is getting deeper and more solid. I won't tell you more about it, because the author is stopping by next week to tell us herself.
I hacked my way through several chapters of The Playground. I've got to say the split screen ability on this iPad is awesome. Did you know there is a difference between mantel and mantle? By using split screen, I quickly checked spelling and moved confidently forward.
My mind keeps interfering today. Hey buddy, there's pumpkin pie in the fridge. I gave in. I also had a small turkey sandwich on one of my garlic Parmesan rolls.
Time to read blogs.
Time to post something on Twitter.
Slash through another chapter.
Thoughts keep dragging me elsewhere. I got up, went to the bedroom, and lifted the bed skirt. “Why aren't you scary anymore?”
A shuffling like dried leaves moved toward the edge of the bed. “I don't know exactly. My therapist says it's because of movies and television. I've been over exposed.”
“You mean like one of those actors who was everywhere, then can't seem to find work?”
“Exactly. When was the last time you saw Orlando Bloom in a new role?”
“There were The Hobbit movies.”
“Not a new role for him though was it?”
“I guess not. So are you saying you want to do Broadway or something?”
“Only if I can devour some actresses or steal a few souls away.”
“I think that's been done before.”
“So we're back to the same old problem. Monsters were scary, someone else added gallons of blood to our stories, and that worked for a while. Now we're left with jumping out and yelling boo. What kind of life is that?”
“What about suspense? That's kind of a favorite trick of mine.”
“I'm sure it works in your stories, but what good does it do me to look all scary when your readers won't even see me until act three?”
“It may not help you, but it may improve the story overall. Readers can see a little bit of your handiwork to build up tension. The character is trapped in bed, because if she runs for it you'll bite her feet off. Make her have to pee, and add some extra tension.”
“Alright, the old have to pee trick is a classic. Still, I'm missing out on page time here. I have to compete with scary humans, deadly viruses, terrorist groups, and more. Where is my piece of the pie?”
“Maybe closet monster can give us some insight.”
“He retired five years ago. Heard he found a nice culvert down on the Gulf Coast somewhere.”
“Hey, speaking of pie, my wife made a great pumpkin pie. Want some?”
“Okay, but slide the plate and fork out when you're finished. She'll come down there after it, I swear.”
“That is truly scary.”
“She's out shopping on Black Friday right now.”
The whole bed quivered. “It seems you know a scary thing or two when you see them.”
“You know it, brother. I'll think about our conversation for a while. Are you available to talk again? It isn't like you're doing anything.”
A two fingered claw slid a piece of paper out from under the bed.
“My schedule of consulting fees.”
“Look, a monster has to make a living. I don't like it any more than you do, so find me a scary story to participate in.”
“I'm still thinking about it. I'll keep you posted.”
Okay, back to editing, or maybe there is something on television…