Isolde Ignored Fleur’s Command

  • by jenThank god for vinyl upholstery.
  • time flows uphill
  • The same, of course, is true of bandits.
  • forced to eat snow
  • yelled what was obviously an insult

Tune in next time part 743      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Isolde ignored Fleur’s command and just stood in the bathroom doorway.

“Go! To! The! Bridge!” Fleur repeated, punctuating each word with a hearty splash of bathwater. “Take! Me! To! Prague!” Isolde dodged, and most of the water landed on my bedroom furniture. Thank god for vinyl upholstery.

Isolde finally said, “Fine!” and stomped away. She called back over her shoulder, “But you’ll regret it when you remember who lives in Prague these days!”

Fleur was quivering with indignation. While she seethed and grumbled about her sister’s insubordination, I signaled Tessa to get a quick breath of air. Hopefully I would be able to get my wife out of the tub before we reached the Czech Republic. Who knew how long the side-trip would take us? When you’re on a zeppelin time flows uphill, or so it seems. The same, of course, is true of bandits. On a zeppelin, bandits always flow uphill. But you knew that.

“Regret!” Fleur cried belatedly. “Regret! We’ll see who has regrets, dear sister, when you’re forced to eat snow!” And then she yelled what was obviously an insult.

“Maybe you should go with her and make sure she tells the pilot the correct thing,” I said, while wondering who Isolde had been talking about. Who, exactly, lives in Prague these days?

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

A Confession

Every now and then when we’re writing our ridiculous chain story we need a reminder about who all these bizarre characters are and what sort of shenanigans and crimes they’ve been up to. We have enough to keep track of for our novel writing, and there’s no way we can do that and cram the entirety of the chain story into our heads as well. It’s nearly 750 entries long, FFS!

Luckily, we have a solution: the Dramatis Personae. That’s right, a nigh-exhaustive list of all the important characters, places, and organizations in our ongoing saga is just one of the services we at SkelleyCo Amalgamated Fiction Enterprises LLC are proud to offer. Unluckily for both you the reader, and us, is that we hadn’t updated the damn thing in several years. Oops. For a while we were able to remember enough to limp along. We thought we were doing pretty well, but Jen just reread the whole thing, and, um. Let’s just say we forgot a few minor things. Like an entire wedding. A wedding our protagonist was the groom in. Granted, he was impersonating someone else, and the bride was a robot duplicate of his true love, so it probably doesn’t really count. But still, as the authors who put him in that situation, we ought to at least remember it. And so, it was time to update the Dramatis Personae, for newcomers, stans, and for ourselves. Dammit, we all deserve nice things.

We’ll start with an update on our main dude himself. He’s still unnamed, but at least he doesn’t go around calling himself The Protagonist, like some movie characters we could mention but won’t.

Our Protagonist (we’re allowed to call him that because we’re his creators): Though we have yet to learn this man’s name, we do know that it is five syllables long. As per family tradition, he was born at the North Pole. He is not English, but he is part-Indian, immune to jellyfish stings, and spent at least part of his childhood in a cult. One summer when he was a child, his mother pitted him and his twin brother Jason in daily wrestling matches. He is a graduate of the Hopscotch Academy, with a degree in Advanced Duplicity. While at the Academy he learned how to defend himself against ninjas, how to control the minds of others through an odd vocal technique he calls “hypnotoading,” and also how to break through most hypnotic trances using something called “goldfishing”. For someone who attended boarding school, his French is shockingly bad, though he does know several dead languages quite well. During senior year he was voted Most Likely to Become a Sasquatch King, and was actual King of the Senior Prom, having won a wilderness survival competition against his classmates. He was on the Academy’s Beatnik team, and is adept at the bongos. While enrolled at the Academy, he impaled his friend John’s foot with a harpoon. This earned him extra credit from the school, and a lifelong grudge from John. He learned everything he knows about stealth during his time as a stowaway on a tramp steamer in the South China Sea. He has excellent hearing, and is allergic to seagull feathers. Our hero always dreamed of a career in skates, but wound up in a career involving both crime and espionage. He sometimes uses the codename Ludovico, sometimes Winifred. He’s not a theatre critic anymore, and one of his brothers owns a weather control machine. He has the layout of at least one Hall of Mirrors memorized, and can imitate any kind of bird or beast. Unlike his twin, he can sleep anywhere. He can often taste what Jason is tasting, while Jason can smell what he’s smelling. He is a full-on karaoke person, his favorite tune to belt out being YMCA. Thanks to his many prophetic dreams, he knows that his death will not come from being sacrificed by, or to, clowns, nor will it involve clowns at all. He used to have blond hair. He has blue-gray eyes and a super hairy chest (and back, also, it seems). There is a tattoo hidden under his chest hair, given to him by Tessa. It contains, naturally, a hidden message. His toes are very ticklish, and he has quintuple elbows (it’s like being double-jointed, only moreso). His tongue is covered with a golden tattoo, to commemorate the birth of his first children. It’s a Contrarian thing, obviously. He lives by the river, if his house hasn’t been washed away in the long, long, long time since he’s been home. He is married to Fleur, daughter of the Warlord of Contraria, but they have an understanding. They are parents to twins. Additionally he acted as proxy when Fleur’s sister Isolde married the odious Harry, and on their wedding night as well. Later he impersonated Viscount Arlo of Svenborgia during his wedding to the second Tessabot (it was her idea – they were tricking the guests, not the bride), and even later Fleur gave the okay for him to act as proxy again for Hildegard’s wedding to Chartreuse Pamplemousse. Things went a little haywire during that ceremony and he wound up legally wed to both Hildegard and Chartreuse. His wife’s half-brother inadvertently started a rumor that there was a coveted miracle substance in his semen, which led to many many women throwing themselves on him and bearing him children. Fleur made him a general in the Contrarian armed forces. His first command was the mountain garrisons in the Paradoxica Region, but he’s recently been promoted to head of the entire Comedy branch of the services, which is no laughing matter. He has many resplendently spiffy uniforms, some with small brass squirrels atop the epaulets, others with fringed boots and a lamp in the shape of a dove that dangles from his hat like he’s an anglerfish. Most recently he was seen wearing his ceremonial polka dot footie pajamas. It was a wedding reception after all, and one must follow protocol.

Now, about all those babies.

The women call themselves the Toboggan Club (because everyone took a ride), and they are all currently aboard Fleur’s Contrarian Royal Airship. The children are all considered part of Fleur’s royal brood, being fathered by her husband. He’s a twin, so obviously these are all multiple births. That’s just science.

A non-exhaustive list:

  • Fleur – his wife (mother of twins)
  • Isolde – her sister (mother of an uncounted number of children)
  • Svetlana – John’s sister (quads, and is possibly pregnant again)
  • Tatiana – Tessa’s sister (twins)
  • Titania – Tessa’s other sister (unknown number of children – we haven’t checked in lately)
  • YoYo – a yodeler from the mountain garrisons (twins, even though she doesn’t believe in them)
  • Yesterday – wife of Fleur’s half-brother (unknown number)
  • Olga – another of John’s sisters (unconfirmed, but likely)
  • Betsy – a spy (unconfirmed, less likely but still possible)
  • Marnie – a nurse and retired tap-dancer (unconfirmed but quite likely)
  • Hildegard – John’s ex-wife, our dude’s current accidental wife (unconfirmed but extremely likely)
  • Dr Ferguson – evil eye doctor and reality tv divorcee (unconfirmed but likely)
  • Vera – she’s on the airship, but our dude doesn’t remember her

For more info on these lovely ladies, see their individual entries in the Dramatis Personae. They’ve all been lovingly updated.

This entry is outrageously long, so we’ll save the summary of the new characters and stuff like that for next week.

A writing partner is someone who puts up with (nay, encourages!) all your batshit ideas.

“Why Would Anyone”

  • by Kentfled Australia in a fake beard
  • you’re boring, baby
  • left behind four fully grown hippopotamuses
  • My fingers are too stubby for such delicate work
  • “Prague is a city,” she said firmly.

Tune in next time part 742      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Why would anyone leave a cheese hamper — especially such a heavy one — in the billiard room?” Isolde asked. Oddly enough, I was ready with an answer.

“They must have stolen it, and the fuzz was closing in.” I elaborated by relating the tale of when my cousin fled Australia in a fake beard being worn by my much larger cousin, but I didn’t get far before I caught that look on Isolde’s face. The look says “you’re boring, baby” and it didn’t waver even when I mentioned that my cousins left behind four fully grown hippopotamuses.

Fleur pinched her nose. She said, “I think one of those diapers needs changing. You do it. My fingers are too stubby for such delicate work.”

“Well, in that case,” I ventured hopefully, “perhaps you’d like to get out of the tub now that it’s been contaminated. That diaper looks pretty waterlogged.”

Fleur was still holding her nose. “Prague is a city,” she said firmly.

“No, I said waterlogged.”

She ignored me. “And I want to go there right now. Isolde, go to the bridge and tell them I want a Bohemian spa day.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“Perhaps They Have More Camembert”

  • by jenMy shaman and I
  • Since being bludgeoned by the octopus
  • not, however, universally popular among actual rappers
  • “Screw you guys, I’m going home.”
  • with a plaster cast of her dead husband’s hand

Tune in next time part 741      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Perhaps they have more camembert in the galley,” I said as calmly as I could. I tried to arrange the babies above water and my legs underwater to thwart Fleur’s probing hands. The last thing I needed was for her to find Tessa now.

My shaman and Isolde both told me today would be a good day,” Fleur pouted. “Since being bludgeoned by the octopus at the zamboni entrance is a good omen, I believed them. Like a fool.” She stared into my eyes and said forlornly, “The magic camembert is gone. Jason ate all of it but that one last piece.”

I should have foreseen that. THC-laced cheeses are hot on the wedding rap circuit, even if they are not, however, universally popular among actual rappers. “Is Jason still aboard?” I asked. “You could have him searched for any cheese he might be smuggling.”

“No,” Fleur said. “When I wouldn’t let him have that last wedge, he said, ‘Screw you guys, I’m going home.’ and strapped on a parachute.”

I was desperate to get the sisters out of my bathroom so I could get Tessa out of my bathtub. I was so desperate that I decided to lie. “On my rounds earlier I saw a cheese hamper under the portrait of your grandmother. You know, the one with a plaster cast of her dead husband’s hand on top of her head.”

“Her coronation portrait?” Fleur was intrigued. The drugs in her system were working in my favor. “I’ll send someone to check.”

“Don’t you think you had better go yourself? You don’t want anyone else to bogart it. Isolde can go with you to help you carry it. It looked like an awfully heavy cheese hamper.”

My gorgeous sister-in-law cocked one eyebrow at me. Perhaps I’d pushed things too far.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Don’t Double-Team

We tend to each “adopt” a certain subset of the cast. Then as we sort through the stubs, we know which of us is the default assignee based on whose viewpoint each stub is from. But that relies on one of two things: either one of us feels strongly drawn to that POV, or one of us has written several of that character’s scenes already to establish a pattern. Well, the current batch of stubs brings in someone new and it’s making our load distribution calculations rather interesting.

It’s sort of a perfect storm, because there’s a POV that’s new, and we both sort of vibe on it, and also it has several scenes. In the end, we did split them up between us.

But we gave ourselves one rule: we couldn’t both be working on the same new POV at the same time. We’d each be inventing this person’s voice, and they wouldn’t match up, and then we’d have the challenge of getting them synced. The restriction really only applies in these very early appearances for the new viewpoint.

So, as it happened Kent jumped on his new-POV scene first. Jen is working with one of the existing characters’ POV in the meantime.

It’s possible to imagine making the opposite strategy work — both writing partners could deliberately work on the same voice in parallel, and then use syncing them up as a chance to see the character from unexpected angles. We feel there are too many pitfalls lurking in that approach, but different things work for different people.

A writing partner is someone who harmonizes with your voice.

I Didn’t Want To Reminisce

  • by Kentghostly whistle of rushing air
  • gets a little too erotic about food for my delicate tastes
  • remind you that you have no free will
  • competitive breakdancing
  • “You are irresponsible!”

Tune in next time part 740      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I didn’t want to reminisce with Isolde about her loser husband. Being a fan of When You Punch A Comet was very on-brand for him. When he stood sideways in a breeze you could hear the ghostly whistle of rushing air passing through his ears. I didn’t want to reminisce with her about anything, actually. I wanted her to leave, and take Fleur with her. But the topic of horrible television shows was irresistible to my sister-in-law.

With a wistful expression, she said, “He also liked The Great Brutish Bake-off, but it gets a little too erotic about food for my delicate tastes.”

The last thing I wanted to do was laugh at her for that remark. Her tastes were about as delicate as a garbage truck, but her ego was a fragile and elaborate thing. Insulting her would guarantee a lengthy tirade. So naturally, a loud, coarse guffaw escaped my mouth in one of those events life throws at you to remind you that you have no free will.

Thinking fast, I blurted, “It really gets good in the fifth season when they introduce competitive breakdancing in place of the technical.”

Suddenly Fleur made me hold both babies. “Where’s the camembert?” she cried, searching frantically down the side of the tub. “It’s gone!” she whimpered, transfering her quest to the bubbles within the tub. She would discover Tessa any second.

“Yes,” I said in my most reasonable tone. “It’s gone because you ate all of it.”

My wife glared at me. She bellowed, “You are irresponsible!”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“Surely Your Show Didn’t Do Worse”

  • by jenwhen you punch a comet
  • knitting at a fast and skilled pace
  • Perhaps it’s a signature talisman
  • “With an accent like that I’ll believe anything he tells me.”
  • filled with snow and lumps of ice

Tune in next time part 739      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Surely your show didn’t do worse than When You Punch a Comet,” I said. That was the worst performing program in Contrarian television history, which is saying a lot. Contraria’s space program was nowhere near ready to send boxers into orbit, and the whole thing had been a big snore. Just an endless succession of training montages interspersed with footage of old women knitting at a fast and skilled pace as they raced to complete the spacesuit prototypes. One of the boxers carried around a goat bone. Perhaps it’s a signature talisman for his family, I don’t know. But it was very off-putting. None of the trainers would work with him. Fleur and Isolde’s father, the Warlord of Contraria, was ready to fund a second season until the head of NASA talked him out of it. The Warlord said, “With an accent like that I’ll believe anything he tells me.” (He had a weird thing for Americans.) “And he tells me not to waste my money, so there you go.” In the finale, the boxers did not go to space, which was a good thing because they would undoubtedly have died in their knitwear spacesuits. Instead of a comet with its icy tail, they punched a giant plastic bag filled with snow and lumps of ice.

“That was Harry’s favorite show,” Isolde said with a shake of her head.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Getting To The Point Is Not Always The Point

Writing advice tends to be preoccupied with efficiency. Grammar and syntax tips are all geared toward minimizing the number of words to express an idea, and as you go up to broader levels you find tips about minimizing the number of ideas that you set out to express. The explicit assertion is that briefer is always better.

Are there other art forms where creators are told, “This is great, I just wish there was less of it”?

Communicating efficiently is not a bad goal, but a writer should aspire to more than that. Pull a favorite off the shelf and choose a random excerpt, relive the moment when you read it for the first time. Whatever it was about this text that moved you, it probably wasn’t its avoidance of waste. The prose might well be a fine example of clean, efficient expression, but if it didn’t make you feel something, or show you something new about the universe, you wouldn’t care.

We want a good tale, well told. Well, we say we do. In practice, many a cherished story amounts to a good tale adequately conveyed. We have no use at all for a poor tale, regardless of whether the telling is any good.

Focus on having a good story to tell. Then worry about getting better at telling it.

Tessa Shot Me One Last Quick Glower

  • by Kentsqueeze 36 days of amiable game show hosting duties into my schedule
  • like biting into a water balloon
  • crocheting my own parasol
  • his pelvis, his wrist, or his ankle
  • even worse than some of the worst predictions

Tune in next time part 738      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Tessa shot me one last quick glower before submerging again as Isolde swept back into the room with an armload of fluffy towels.

“The way you carry all those towels is very graceful,” I said. Buttering her up had worked out well for me before.

“Thanks,” she said. “I got a lot of practice recently, but trying to squeeze 36 days of amiable game show hosting duties into my schedule was like biting into a water balloon filled with mayonnaise while crocheting my own parasol. And my cohost was never happy unless I was biting his pelvis, his wrist, or his ankle. It was a foolish idea for a game show, too. Flower arranging or haberdashery alone could have worked, but the combination was just confusing. The show fared even worse than some of the worst predictions.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Being A Father Wasn’t My Life’s Dream

  • by jenbarreled into fatherhood
  • collecting the frog juices
  • slobbering over himself
  • good old-fashioned jealousy
  • got engaged two weeks after her sister

Tune in next time part 737      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Being a father wasn’t my life’s dream. I’d always had a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about kids, and yet I barreled into fatherhood with such reckless abandon I had no idea whether this baby in the adorable little gold booties was one of mine.

Fleur lifted the infant she held out of the water with one hand and patted its diaper with the other. “Good thing he’s got this collecting the frog juices.” She chuckled. She was more stoned than I’d ever seen her.

The baby in my lap was slobbering over himself, fist crammed in his mouth. “Better slow down on the cheese, Fleur, or soon you’ll be drooling like this little guy.”

As I expected, this made her immediately reach for the cheese. While she was distracted I signaled to Tessa that she could come up for air.

“What is Isolde doing here?” she demanded in a whisper. If I didn’t know better I’d think my sweetie was suffering from good old-fashioned jealousy. Strange that it wasn’t my wife that brought it out in her, but my sister-in-law. But then I remembered that Tessa and John got engaged two weeks after her sister Tallulah married my brother Thor, which made her my sister-in-law. Was my sister-in-law’s sister also my sister-in-law?

I shook my head to clear it. I hadn’t even eaten any of the camembert and I was still getting fucked up just being near it.

I heard Isolde returning, presumably with towels.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!