“I’ve Had Too Much Champagne”

  • by jen“You have to pee?”
  • using an old-school latex puppet
  • ideal for your most intimate moments
  • wearing the couples’ shoes while they slept
  • party where I met Jim

Tune in next time part 629      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I’ve had too much champagne,” I told Hildegard. “And I’m about to burst.”

“You have to pee?”

I nodded as I slid off the pudding-slicked bed, heading for the ensuite. Hildegard followed right behind me. Even after what we’d spent the past hours doing, this felt presumptuous of her. “Gimme some privacy,” I grumbled.

“But in Bumpengrynd, it’s customary for your wife to help you aim, using an old-school latex puppet, of course, for sanitary purposes.”

I stopped and stared. Surely she couldn’t be serious.

“On a honeymoon, it’s ideal for your most intimate moments to be shared. It builds a deep connection.”

I swatted the puppet out of her hand. “What about Chartreuse Pamplemousse? Isn’t he the one you really want to build an intimate connection with?”

“Obviously. But he’s not here. And anyway, things are different in a plural marriage. Only two members of a wedded throuple may sleep at the same time, while the third spouse confuses any eavesdroppers by wearing the couples’ shoes while they slept.”

“While they sleep.”

“That’s what I said.”

I let it go. English wasn’t her first language. “I would prefer to pee alone, and since you and I aren’t actually married, I’m going to go ahead and do that.”

“Of course we’re married, much as we both might wish otherwise. The officiant signed the document, and if I learned anything at that party where I met Jim, it’s that you Americans are sticklers for official documents.”

“Wait,” I said. “You know Jim? My brother Jim?”

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Too Villainous? Is That a Thing?

All the characters in the story have to be true to themselves. Their actions in response to a given situation have to be what they’d actually do, not what’s convenient for the plot. That applies to the bad guys just as much as the heroes. Well, of course it does. Right?

Yes, but. This is one of those rules not to be followed off a cliff.

In our case, the discussion was over a matter of degree: how horribly will he treat this particular person? It wasn’t a matter of would he do the nasty thing, but would he do it more than once.

When you have questions like that, the real questions you should be asking are, what kind of story am I writing, and what can the plot survive.

What kind of story: just how cruel is your villain, and when you do justice to depicting his depraved actions does it skew the tone or the direction of your story in undesireable ways? Showing what he’s capable of is important, but once that’s established it might start to seem gratuitous to let him keep living his best life.

What can the plot survive: there’s a difference between choosing what’s convenient and avoiding what’s lethal. If the heroes are neutralized, or the object of the quest is destroyed, then the story no longer works.

Back to our situation: we’re leaning toward the once being enough. (Our bad guy will still have plenty of chances to be naughty.) We don’t want the victimized character out of play for too long, and we don’t want to make victimization thematic.

So, yes. There is such a thing as too much villainy. Don’t let your villains kill your story.

“Isn’t It Time”

  • by KentUh uh honey
  • a very colorful lovelife
  • while screaming like a demon
  • “I’ll get you a piano”
  • only he and his dream owl know

Tune in next time part 628      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Isn’t it time for us to get some sleep?” I implored Hildegard.

“Uh uh honey.” She shook her head, a wryly seductive sneer twisting her greasepaint mustache asymmetrically. “I’m shocked to hear you complaining. By all accounts you lead a very colorful lovelife.”

“That doesn’t mean I never get tired. Or, that my enjoyment is enhanced if my partner dismounts mid-coitus while screaming like a demon that I should be bidding higher.”

“The prize was a grand piano! And you were messing it up.”

“I’ll get you a piano,” I retorted. “A real one. But you’ll just get pudding all over it.”

“But the prizes in our games are real. Things in the realm of the owl are realer than the things we can touch.”

“What owl?”

“Snorefeather. Oh, I forgot, you’re a heathen from the mainland.” She sat up and cleared her throat. “The sheep we count to fall asleep are tended by a dream shepherd, and only he and his dream owl know (the owl’s name is Snorefeather, but nobody knows the shepherd’s name) and only they know what’s really real, and what only seems real.”

“Oh. Well, in that case I guess I already got you the piano.”

Hildegard winked and laid back on the sticky bed. “But now you owe me one I can get pudding on.”

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Exhausted and Glazed with Butterscotch Pudding

  • by jengot a little gift of his own
  • (only purple)
  • drifting unguided and unmanned
  • a bit flummoxed
  • with each passing hour

Tune in next time part 627      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Exhausted, and glazed with butterscotch pudding, I stared at Hildegard as she did her best Bob Barker impression in the purple honeymoon suite. “Here’s your chance to win a brand! new! car!” We’d been at this for hours. First she’d spoon up the pudding, then we’d play a price-guessing game, then we’d fornicate — before starting the whole process over again. Early on, the bellhop delivered our wedding gifts on a luggage cart, and got a little gift of his own when Hildegard answered the door naked. She’d let him choose one of the purple-wrapped boxes of pudding as his tip. All the presents were pudding, and all were wrapped in purple, to match the decor of the entire hotel. It was like King Midas had strolled through, running his hands over everything and turning it to gold. (Only purple). I felt like my metaphors weren’t working very well, like my mind was drifting unguided and unmanned in an amethyst sea. All the purple and all the butterscotch had me a bit flummoxed, and my flummoxation grew with each passing hour and each passing Showcase Showdown.

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So Close

Sorry to mislead you last week. The Writing Cave is still under construction. But! the worst of it is behind us and half of our computers are back in service. Fingers crossed that regular service will return next week.

Pardon Our Dust

The Writing Cave is undergoing renovations. This means all the stuff from that one, single room has been displaced, and now more or less completely fills three rooms and the hallway. Painting has commenced, but there’s a lot to be done after that.

We’re still working on the Ghost Series, but things are a bit chaotic and we utterly spaced on getting our prompts done this week. Sorry!

Normal schedule should resume next week, although the reno will be ongoing.

The One Time When Failure to Plan ≠ Planning to Fail

Waaaay back when we were working on Book 1 of the Ghost Series, we decreed that an event occurred. Which is what this whole plotting and outlining thing is about, so why pat ourselves on the back now, months later? In this particular case (and probably many others, if we’re honest) we decided what was going to happen, when it was going to happen, and who it was going to happen to. We knew the Who, What, When, and even the Why. Notice anything missing? The Where. At the time it didn’t seem important to specify, and if we’d gone ahead and written Book 1 before thoroughly outlining the rest of the series, we would certainly have set the scene someplace. Perhaps even someplace interesting in its own right. What we probably wouldn’t have done was set it where we’ve now decided is the only place that really makes sense. All we have to do is make a note of this in the Book 1 outline and — BLAMMO — Synergy!

Planning the entire series before we start writing has led to several opportunities like this, and we love it. Any chance to make the pieces mesh more intricately results in a richer final product.

At some point we will actually have to start writing the books, but for now we’re a couple of watchmakers fiddling with all the cogs and springs and itty bitty gears. It may sound like a lot of work, but it will save us a ton of time on rewrites later.

A writing partner is someone who makes sure you don’t end up with any loose parts leftover once you’ve constructed your masterpiece.

What About Chartreuse Pamplemousse Indeed

  • by Kentcondoms scattered around
  • unfuck them one by one
  • the melancholy croaking of innumerable penguins
  • kissed hers with exceptional vivacity
  • butterscotch pudding and The Price is Right

Tune in next time part 626      Click Here for Earlier Installments

What about Chartreuse Pamplemousse indeed. I pictured him walking in on us in the honeymoon suite, with used condoms scattered around the bed like obscene banana peels. I’d never met this infamous eye doctor and scion of House Pamplemousse, but I envisioned a hulking maniac bent on vengeance, seeking justice by making me track down all my former lovers and unfuck them one by one.

It was snowing again, and when the organist began the recessional I mistook it for the melancholy croaking of innumerable penguins. But there were only the two penguins, as per Bumpengryndian wedding custom, and Hildegard crouched down and kissed hers with exceptional vivacity. Not wanting to prolong this ordeal, I gave mine a demure smooch on its cheek.

I sighed. “Time for Netflix and chill?” I asked, once the officiant was safely out of earshot.

“What? Oh, we don’t really use that expression here,” Hildegard said. She added in a husky voice, “We say ‘butterscotch pudding and The Price is Right.’ And we mean it literally.”

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Though Hildegard’s Vows Weren’t in English

  • by jenAs a former boarding school kid
  • desk lamp selected by the head of the architectural department
  • reduce human-camel conflicts
  • “You don’t trust him?”
  • all traces of its natural color were obliterated by ink stains

Tune in next time part 625      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Though Hildegard’s vows weren’t in English, I understood them easily. As a former boarding school kid, I was fluent in several languages long-considered dead. In my youth I spent many a night hunched over my linguistics manuals, reading by the light of a desk lamp selected by the head of the architectural department to reduce human-camel conflicts in our desert oasis compound. If the polo team’s camels didn’t get enough sleep they were very cranky, and no one likes a cranky camel.

When it was my turn to speak, I leaned in to whisper in Hildegard’s ear. “The officiant knows this is a proxy wedding, yes?”

“You don’t trust him?” Her greasepaint mustache quirked.

“I don’t want to accidentally become a bigamist.” My greasepaint eyebrows, a good inch above my real eyebrows, smeared as my forehead furrowed.

“His tongue!” The officiant cried, pointing at my mouth. “All traces of its natural color were obliterated by ink stains! Golden ink stains!”

I wondered what about my tongue tattoo so upset the man. *He* didn’t have to endure the pain of having it applied.

“When He of the Golden Tongue speaks in a Bumpengryndian ceremony it is immediately binding!”

“Now just wait a minute,” I said.

“The Golden Tongue has spoken! You are wed!”

“Hey,” complained Hildegard. “What about Chartreuse Pamplemousse?”

“Chartreuse Pamplemousse is wedded to the both of you. He of the Golden Tongue hath decreed it.”

I wanted to protest, but was afraid of who else I might end up married to if I opened my mouth.

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Outlining: It Gives You Superpowers

The Ghost Series contains many wonders, some of which have made our planning more complicated. One wondrous element in particular is a pain in the butt: some of the characters are precognitive.

Precognition is what many RPG rule systems refer to as an unbalanced power. If mismanaged, it takes all the fun out of the game. You end up with a player who wants to roll dice every time their character takes a step. The same basic problem can arise with fiction. It’s crucial to place heavy constraints on any precogs you let loose in your world, so they can’t just spoil everything. Yet, the ability to see into the future has to be of some value. They have to be right sometimes or else they’re not precogs, they’re just delusional. In fact, allowing them more power brings more potential for excitement and intrigue.

What you want is a way to level the playing field, so you can match wits against precognitive beings and win. If only you, too, could gain the power to foretell the future.

With an outline, you can! (You knew that was coming — hey, are you psychic?)

There are those who complain about writing from an outline precisely for this reason: you already know how the story will go. We see that as a strength. You can focus on telling the story well, because you don’t have to spend energy inventing it as you go. You can do foreshadowing and recurring themes in a very intentional way.

Here in the Writing Cave, there’s another way that we hold our own when our characters are supernaturally gifted. We gang up on them. A writing partner doubles the number of brain cells available when you need to come up with a way to surprise the precogs.