Okay, so I'm going to do some editing of Dex and Kane. Oh yes I am. I love them-- you've heard me yammer on about them for MONTHS!
But wait! Taern and Dorjan, my two steampunk guys-- they're great. They're sort of calling to me--I mean, they're on a deadline too! And OH! They're so much fun! They've got steam powered crickets and they LEAP and then there's the millipede trains and the rabbits on the monorail and...
Wait. Taern? Is that you? You didn't tell me you were going to do that! Damn, you're cute! Sorta spunky and chipper and-- wait. No. You are NOT going to have a love scene now. No no no no no no no! Okay, stop teasing Dorjan, you've got more self-confidence than he does, just... Hey! You! Put your clothes back on.
Excuse me, y'all, while I sort of see this through, wouldja? I wasn't planning on it--was, in fact, planning to edit, maybe cook dinner, maybe do the laundry, but, see, these guys, well, yeah, something came up and--
Oh crap. That was way more involved than I'd planned it. And messy. Where are they going to find a cloth and some water to clean that up? Okay, there we go. But I had to write that too, and now there's clean up and Taern is getting-- stop that! Oh crap. No.
I'm going to bed. Yeah, I know it's mean, but no imaginary characters ever died of blueballs overnight. Okay, maybe they did in print, but I'm pretty sure nobody ever came back to their work in progress to see a little toes-up corpse with a boner on the page where their character was supposed to be!
So I go to bed. I do. I've got things to do, right? And I go to bed, and have zombie fighting dreams all night.
And when I wake up, my once sweet love scene suddenly looks like a zombie apocalypse, and I don't even LIKE zombies. I chase away the litter of rotted clothing and dropped body parts and resume writing. Okay guys? That good? Can we get on with our-- oh, hey. There's a new character here. Oh, we like her! Yeah, I don't care if she's six feet tall and has a penis--she wears an updo and a Victorian dress and serves tea like a pro, dammit, she's a LADY! And she's awesome. Oh, I like her!
Be nice to her guys. No. No. What are you doing? No, no I said be nice! Keep those mean people out of her house I MEAN IT! Oh, whew. Okay. Nice. Good-- wait!
THERE SHALL BE NO MAKING OUT IN THE ALLEYWAY!
I said it. Are we okay? Can we get back to kicking ass some more? Good, oh, that's fun! Leap! Ho! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Fuck! I SAID STOP DOING THAT!
Oh for fucks sake.
Seriously.
And hey! Oh, dammit! He's hurt? AGAIN? God. I hate martyrs. Okay, yeah, well, he's cute when he's all defensive, and then Taern has to tend to him and... oh hells.
AGAIN?
You'd think I wrote romance or something!
You jerkoffs go over there to the corner of my brain and do what you do. I've got a blogpost to write!
Heh heh heh... Yeah. If you folks could only see what I'm thinking right now. Heh heh heh...
*toddles off, laughing quietly to self, while family plots padded cell in the nice facilityI
Just a LITTLE twisted, aren't we?!
ReplyDeleteI've been watching the original Twilight Zone episodes. Last night there was one you could identify with about a playwrite whose characters came to life.....
ReplyDeleteJust be careful and don't make any recordings. That way can lead to real crazy.
If you leave those plot bunnies alone long enough... Well, you know.
ReplyDeleteThey do have minds of their own, don't they? But what fun to watch them ramble.
ReplyDeleteHahahah! "I'm pretty sure nobody ever came back to their work in progress to see a little toes-up corpse with a boner on the page where their character was supposed to be! " So much yes.
ReplyDeleteAlthough seriously, that's the sort of thing I get out of bed to write. :)
ROFLMFAO
ReplyDeletecannot wait to read this story.....