Sometimes We Can Have Nice Things

There is no shortage of story in As-Yet Untitled Ghost Novel #2, and no shortage of cast members either. That doesn’t stop us from coming up with more. We just need to keep it from getting out of hand.

One good way to control proliferation is by giving characters multiple jobs. Recently, we had a chance to apply this to our work-in-progress. We’ve known since pretty early on that one of our characters was going to need an accomplice. The plot doesn’t really work otherwise. Much more recently, we came up with some very colorful individuals that we wanted to put on the page because they’re a lot of fun. There’s no contradiction implied; we absolutely could have taken the “more is more” approach. As noted at the top, though, we already had probably more than we needed, so we had to be mindful about throwing in stuff that we just wanted.

Our way to have it all is that one of the colorful new people becomes the accomplice. It’s an elegant way to combine something that we need with something that we want.

A writing partner is someone who looks for ways to make the fun stuff work as an integral part of the story.

I Was Now Firmly Convinced

  • by Kentstarted following me
  • propensity for licking was common knowledge
  • elaborate performance art project?
  • and not feel bad about it
  • Can we talk about the terrifying clown

Tune in next time part 872      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I was now firmly convinced that Titania knew I was inside the horse costume, and in light of what she’d just told me I wanted to simply ask aloud, “Can we talk about the terrifying clown-ninja hybrids and their hideous anatomical enhancements?” But I couldn’t risk it. Titania had spoken to me, true, but in a way that continued to indulge the ruse. She was letting me stay concealed and not feel bad about it, although I did, a little. Then again, I was basing all this on intel I’d gleaned from a greatly disadvantaged position. Maybe I was behaving like as much of a horse’s ass as I was disguised as. Maybe BimBam Tickles wasn’t even really unconscious. Could I be certain this wasn’t all an elaborate performance art project? A sadistically clownish trap? I could not.

Another idea occurred to me. Perhaps the Crystal Clown wanted to get me alone. Only Small Dennis stood between us at this point. Was he her next target? Should I try to protect him? It seemed like the right thing to do, but not the smart thing. After all, I didn’t owe either of the Dennises anything, and being all alone with Titania wouldn’t have to be mortally perilous. It could even be fun; her propensity for licking was common knowledge.

But Small Dennis, in the front half of the costume, knew only that a dangerous mastermind was inches away from his face, telling him sinister things he couldn’t understand. Belatedly, he started following me in my attempted retreat. I hadn’t expected that, so suddenly the only thought that filled the entirety of my mind was, “He’s still not wearing pants.”

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“There Were Coded Messages”

  • by jenlearning that the hard way
  • like an army of idiosyncratic ninjas
  • enjoy international fame
  • strange suction-cup-shaped marks
  • amidst the gratified shouts

Tune in next time part 871      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“There were coded messages amidst the gratified shouts from the hot tub,” Titania whispered. That wasn’t the confusing part. The confusing part was what she said next. “We all emerged with strange suction-cup-shaped marks covering our bodies, and yet there were no squids at this particular party.”

The first confusing thing was the idea of a clown hot tub party with no squids. Clowns enjoy international fame (or perhaps infamy) for their cephalopod predilections for a reason! The second source of confusion was trying to imagine the source of the suction-cup marks, if not a betentacled sea creature.

And then it came to me. I finally understood why Titania was whispering all this lore to her steed. It was indeed intended for my ears, not those of the Dennis brothers. She was telling me that there existed in the world something like an army of idiosyncratic ninjas crossbred with clowns, and armed with suction cups, just as I had always feared and suspected. By telling me she spared me the danger of learning that the hard way.

Now I merely faced the danger of passing along that intel to someone who could do something about it. And the danger of the clown-ninjas themselves.

Which was scarier — clown-ninjas, or ninja-clowns? I shuddered in my horse costume.

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It Happens to The Best of Us

Chalk it up to staying holed up in the Writing Cave all the time… It took Covid about four years to track Rune Skelley down, but it found us right after New Year’s. We both had very minor cases (and we’re both better now!) but even so it was far from pleasant.

We did our best to keep working through it, but we were so tired. Productivity was very low. Guess we have to admit we’re human after all.

As of Monday we both tested negative. Kent even did a “disappointing” workout. So, it’s back to the grindstone for us.

A writing partner is someone whose major symptoms don’t come on until yours have started to fade, so you can take care of each other.

More Sultry, Spine-Chilling Whispers

  • by Kentthis time nobody smelled the crocodile
  • see where the bubbles form
  • one of the downsides would be the pooping
  • camping out on beanbag chairs
  • moving in slow, sensuous circles

Tune in next time part 870      Click Here for Earlier Installments

More sultry, spine-chilling whispers reached me. I’d been too wrapped up in ninja speculations to keep up, and thus missed some of Titania’s lurid monologue.

“… this time nobody smelled the crocodile, which was disappointing. I had to make do with a masturbator alligator and see where the bubbles formed … ”

My mind reeled. I knew about the party she was describing. The infamous “Clown-Car Hot-Tub Convergence” of Minneapolis. Her sibilant narration continued.

“… is the main upside, while of course one of the downsides would be the pooping …”

She had to be baiting me. I hadn’t been at the CCHTC, not really, but several Academy classmates crashed it, camping out on beanbag chairs around the tub and taking notes like crazy. It was generally visualized as frothing, particolored chaos, like a birthday cake tossed into a tank of voracious piranhas, but those who were there reported a far different vibe. There was indeed some colorful foam on that hot tub, but it was moving in slow, sensuous circles on gentle, though kinky, currents of lust.

What I heard next was the most confusing thing so far.

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Titania’s Whisper

  • by jenlike he’s the last jasmine blossom
  • double my electric bill
  • figure out my buttermilk situation
  • knife-wielding spider god
  • kneads them like dough

Tune in next time part 869      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Titania’s whisper traveled down the neck of the horse costume, allowing me to easily hear every word she said.

“BimBam acts like he’s the last jasmine blossom in the florist’s shop.”

My blood ran cold. The Last Jasmine Blossom was the allegedly mythical ninja I had written my Academy thesis about. I’d spent many sleepless nights studying in the library, burning the midnight oil so that I didn’t double my electric bill. I’d come to the terrifying conclusion that the Last Jasmine Blossom was no mere cryptid. He (or she!) was the most dangerous ninja in history. My thesis defense was well-attended by other Academy students and alumni. Surely Titania knew of my conclusions. Was she implying obliquely, in the way of clowns, that BimBam Tickles, the Iron Clown of Svenborgia and the Last Jasmine Blossom were one and the same? My mind boggled. I’d rather figure out my buttermilk situation with a knife-wielding spider god than deal with something like that, and everyone knows my feelings on buttermilk.

My mind does more than boggle. It takes two such intimidating ideas and kneads them like dough. It puts them in the proving drawer and runs away screaming.

I tried to look on the bright side. Maybe Titania had figured out I was in the back half of the horse costume and was merely trying to scare me.

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Re-Reading The Divided Man Trilogy

For somewhat mysterious reasons, we decided that we’d read the first three novels we wrote. By “decided we’d read” what we mean of course is that we decided Kent would read them aloud to Jen. This project recently came to a successful conclusion.

To get the self-promotion out of the way: it was a blast. We really enjoyed it the whole way through. There is always some trepidation about revisiting early work. Has it aged well? (Yes.) Was it really polished enough to be published? (Yes.) Are we biased? (Yes. But we also have standards.)

The Divided Man Series
Miss Brandymoon's Device Tenpenny Zen Elsewhere's Twin

 

These books are of special interest to scholars of Rune Skelley’s oeuvre because they were written before we knew what we were doing. That is, writing this trilogy is what taught us how important it is for us to have a process. It was hard! There was at least one six-month span when trying to work on it became so stressful that we just stopped.

Did that seat-of-the-pants workflow contribute anything positive to the flavor of the end product? Probably. There’s a sort of punk-rock attitude infusing the whole thing — a crude spark. Going back to the first books now, we’re a little bit jealous of younger Rune Skelley’s “fuck it, watch this” confidence. We went for the double backflip, and we landed it! Eventually! After wrecking ourselves a whole bunch. As already mentioned, it was hard.

Did building this series without a blueprint actually, you know, work? Yes, but we honestly don’t know how. Each of the three Divided Man books has many moving parts, and the trilogy overall creates a structure in which all of the weird shit we set in motion adds up to a consistent, if convoluted, story world. Something we commented about repeatedly as we did the reading is the complexity of the plot and world-building, and how effectively it’s all tied together. Now, we know how this particular sausage was made. We know we played the game on hard mode, so we have a deeper appreciation for how unlikely it was that all these twists would ultimately line up. In other words, we know how likely we are to face-plant if we try to just wing it through something so ambitious again.

As we have said hundreds of times here at the Skelleyverse, writing with a partner is awesome. A good writing partner is your secret weapon. Something to keep in mind is that working with a partner increases your need for a formal system. Can two people take the free-jazz writing approach and get good stuff as a result? Totally! We did. But, in roughly the same amount of time we spent on those three books, we’ve written seven more. And it was way, way less stressful. Because we have a system.

A writing partner is someone who will ride with you down memory lane.

On The One Hand

  • by KentHer father’s field was dentistry; her mother’s was opera.
  • truly powerful hair
  • looked me straight in the eye and said, “No.”
  • but only on the Fourth of July
  • now available in ice cream form

Tune in next time part 868      Click Here for Earlier Installments

On the one hand, the number of conscious evil clowns in my immediate vicinity had just been halved, which was a good thing. But on the other hand, without BimBam to distract Titania it would no longer be possible to sneak away. Also, there was an increased chance of her discovering the deception with Big Dennis, even assuming Small Dennis didn’t lose his shit.

It was very difficult to predict what Titania would do next. Thanks to Tessa, I knew a bit about her life before becoming the Crystal Clown. Her father’s field was dentistry; her mother’s was opera. That placed her at the confluence of smiles and overwrought performance, which perhaps explained how she ended up in clowning. Another thing I recalled Tessa saying about her deadliest sister was that she aspired to have truly powerful hair, and when I asked if that was some kind of euphemism she looked me straight in the eye and said, “No.” Of course, I’d gotten up close and personal with Titania and thus learned a few things directly. For instance, she can recite all the countries of South America and their capitals, but only on the Fourth of July, and she was thrilled to find out that headaches are now available in ice cream form.

While I’d racked my brains for useful factoids, Titania had come over and was now whispering something into Small Dennis’s ear.

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For All his Complaints

  • by jenexcessive body hair
  • you’re wanted downstairs
  • wrote on me with a red marker
  • fearful of farts
  • if you want your nether regions touching germy public surfaces

Tune in next time part 867      Click Here for Earlier Installments

For all his complaints about the furriness of Big Dennis, I was somewhat surprised to see that BimBam sported what many would consider excessive body hair, all of it shockingly pink.

In the secret language of clowns, Titania murmured, “You’re wanted downstairs.” BimBam splayed his knees wide and, while making a slide-whistle sound, sank into a deep crouch. Titania giggled appreciatively. “Now,” she went on in a breathy squeak, “look closely at my left hip and see what the Dennises wrote on me with a red marker this morning while they were dressing me.”

I gulped. If Small Dennis was anywhere near as nervous as me, I was fearful of farts (or something even worse) filling up the horse suit. Again I tried to back us away from the horrifying clown nightmare.

BimBam leaned in very close to Titania’s hip and slowly read, “Continue reading this message only if you want your nether regions touching germy public surfaces such as the floor.” BimBam gave a honk of surprise as Titania gave a quick karate chop to both his shoulders and he toppled pantsless to the ground.

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Gazing Into Our Crystal Ball

Our plan for our writing life in 2024 is simple: complete the first draft of As-Yet-Untitled Ghost Novel #2, and if there’s time, get started on #3. We got a quick start on #2 at the tail end of 2023, and we have a work schedule that’s working. It should be very doable.

Except.

We have a couple of major challenges coming up this year. First of all, we’re building a house. Not us personally. We’ve hired some fine professionals to do all the hard stuff because we want the place to be amazing. Even though we won’t be swinging the hammers ourselves, we expect the project to be an enormous distraction. Almost as big a distraction as our other challenge for 2024: our first grandchild.

Jen’s degree is in Human Development, and she’s worked with young kids a ton, so we’ll be providing a lot of care for the little one while he’s fresh. We’re stupendously excited! But we’re also realists who acknowledge that infant care is going to disrupt our writing schedule quite significantly. We’ve started talking about how to stay on schedule. Maybe we’ll reinstate our evening work sessions. Maybe we’ll alternate days of childcare and writing time. Maybe the kiddo will be a good napper and we’ll work while he’s snoozing. A lot depends on him, and we haven’t met him yet. We shall see!

So, in between changing diapers and choosing cabinets and tiles and appliances (and everything else), we will: write Novel #2. When that’s done we’ll review it alongside #1 to make sure it all flows smoothly, preview #3 and #4 to update anything necessary, do a deep dive into the prep for #3, and then start writing #3. And if we need to look away from the ghosts, we still have a Music Novel in need of an editing pass.

A writing partner is someone who stands beside you when life comes at you fast.