I wish kids had an early warning system—a billboard above their heads that read, “Warning: In approximately 5 hours I’m going to start puking.” That way, I wouldn’t stay up till midnight reading, only to be woken up two hours later by a forty pound Mount Vesuvius.
Poor Chunky redefined his nickname earlier this week. But you’ll be glad to know he’s back to his little dumpling self, and the rest of us managed to avoid gastronomic catastrophe.
This reminds me of a story Mild-mannered Missionary Mary once told me. Apparently she and her husband—we like to call him Bill—once had a very harrowing boat ride in the middle of a serious storm. Mary was sitting with her suitcase on her lap, the ocean round her ankles, and a serious case of “God if you get me through this, I promise to…” when she spotted a mysteriously smiling stranger.
Immediately, Mary experienced a profound peace. The man had to be an angel. No human could be calm in the middle of such a storm. Mary’s reassurance lasted right up until the smiling man lost his lunch. She now refers to him as The Puking Angel.
Good book title don’t you think? Speaking of books, I finally finished mine. It’s tentatively called Flower in the Sky: A Faerie Tale. Technically, I finished the manuscript last week, but the epilogue revolted. I flogged it a few times and it finally surrendered.
Yesterday I met with Secret Agent Man, and he and I brainstormed titles for a series. After some free association and thesaurus consulting, we came up with The Faerie Link Trilogy. What do you think?
The series follows three individuals whose lives are hijacked by the Fair Folk. In the first, cloudy-headed Elodie Lessard discovers a brounie living in the wall of her apartment. He’s hot, he cleans, and no one else can see him. Awkward!
I am really excited about the sequel, but I have to give my brother, the plot doctor, a call. People, never doubt that mad D&D skills come in handy. My brother, once a basement-dwelling geek, is now consultant to the literary stars. Ok, that’s overstating it a bit. How about, consultant to the dimly-lit light bulbs?
But if the Big Pens ever discover my brother’s genius, I’ll have to start paying him to rescue me from my plot ledges.
With my book done, I’m filling my downtime with odd tasks. Today I made our second annual trek to what we in The Springs call Kansas but is really just Falcon. Mom and I picked up our half a cow, and then I transferred Cudbert, all four boxes of him, into the freezer. I now have about four hundred pounds of beef in the garage and no idea what to make for dinner.
If you have any beef recipes or experience with intrusive faeries, feel free to share!
Beware of the “Sagging Middle”
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