When someone says that it would behoove someone to do something, why do they never actually wind up with hooves when they do it?
Apple name-based fiction
The Prairie Spy Malinda rode her horse Melrose to Court Pendu Plat, there to meet with Reverend Morgan and the man who had ruined her life, Lord Lamborne. Not even the lord’s men, the Black Amish, could keep her from stealing the Golden Pearmain with which she would ransom the freedom of her family from the lord’s foul clutches.
“And then I will be free to marry Crown Prince Rudolph,” she said to herself. She’d developed a bad habit of speaking to herself. It was the stress.
She just hoped the prince hadn’t done anything rash in her absence, like marrying that American Beauty of the Bayou, Orleans Rennette. Her father, the ruthless VonZuccalimaglios Rennette, would stop at nothing to see his daughter at the prince”s side.
But Malinda still had a few friends behind the scenes at court – the scullery maid Pixie, the stable boy Oliver, and gentle Merton Russet, the very blacksmith who had shod Melrose. By the time Holiday arrived, she and her family would be free – or dead.
And in the end? They all lived apple-ly ever after.
No monkey on the Supreme Court. YET.
I am going to write a legal thriller about the first simian appointed to the Supreme Court, and I shall call it FIRST MONKEY IN OCTOBER.
Story held hostage
The next time I submit a story, I will include a note demanding payment, or else I start killing adverbs.
Severe weather
I heard another ad on the radio. I think it was for a business selling windows. The ad said “Our area has a lot of severe weather. Hot. Cold. Whatever.”
I’m used to the hot and cold. It’s the whatever that scares me.
“Boy, the weather is really bad outside.”
“What is it doing?”
“I CAN’T EVEN TELL.”
Z
I love the letter Z. Without it, eppelins would sail the skies, while ebras would roam the savannas. And who would ever attend Umba classes?
Save the Snapping Turtle
Some people help little old ladies across the street.
I help baby snapping turtles across the street.
What? It was cute. It was only one inch long. Yes, I know it will grow to be bigger.
Besides, there are more snapping turtles that need help crossing the street around here than little old ladies.
Freeze!
Just heard a radio news story about how a bank robber demanded money from a teller with a gun.
I think they meant a bank robber with a gun demanded money from a teller, unless they’re arming bank tellers these days. And if they’re arming bank tellers, I will be even more polite next time I go to the bank.
This does bring to mind a comic image, though.
===
I walk into the bank.
“FREEZE!” the teller says. “GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY. I HAVE A GUN, AND I KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT.”
From beyond the grave…
Writers have a rare power not given to anyone else: we can bore people long after we are dead.
~ Sinclair Lewis
“Kill your darlings…”
In keeping with the writing advice to kill your darlings, I am going to write a sequel to Peter Pan where the whole Darling family dies.
“NO! NOT WENDY!” Peter Pan wails.
Yes, Peter. ALL the Darlings.
The surprise ending? It was Tinker Bell who did it.