Tag: silly romance novels

We Apologize for Ms. Crepuscular (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

To all of you who faithfully followed our advice and “stayed tuned” to see what Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, would do by way of advancing her plot–

And then never saw a blessed thing along those lines, nothing freakin’ happened–

We can only offer the most abject apology. We have a good mind to drop her from the program. “Suspense” should mean more than just not getting on with the story! If Perry Mason ever did half the stupid stuff The Queen of Suspense does, he’d be off the air before you could say Huatzachachimutzin.

It’s no good asking us poor editors what happened. We haven’t seen the updated manuscript. Last we heard, Lord Jeremy had a 20-pound accordion, the June Taylor Dancers were loose in the woods (without being–ahem!–“loose women”), and Mr. Pudding was girding his newts for battle.

It’s all in Ms. Crepuscular’s notebook–which is written in Cretan Linear A hieroglyphs and no one can read it. I’ll bet even she can’t read it.

The long and the short of it is, we’re still waiting for Chapter DCCXLIV of that national treasure of a romance novel, Oy, Rodney, we’re every bit as frustrated as you are, and for two cents I’d give up this job and take up alligator wrestling.

Cretan script linear hi-res stock photography and images - Alamy

See what I mean? What are we supposed to do with that?

Warning! June Taylor Dancers Alert! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

“I have posted this video to show you what Scurveyshire is up against,” intones Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, introducing Chapter DCCXLIII of her interminable epic romance, Oy, Rodney. 

“As you would know, if you’d been paying the least little bit of attention, the medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, has it in for Scurveyshire,” Ms. Crepuscular reminds her loyal readers. How many of those there are, is anybody’s guess. “He has transported the June Taylor Dancers from the 1950s to the 1850s. This video will show you why!”

“Have you ever seen anything more fiendish?” she crepusculates. “Mr. Pudding and his newts will be hard-put to save the shire from this!” It turns out that certain species of newts are immune to accordion music. The guy at the pet store told me so.

With her usual commendable foresight, Ms. Crepuscular has already equipped Lord Jeremy Coldsore with a 20-pound accordion. To those who object that he hasn’t the foggiest idea how to play it, Ms. Crepuscular replies, “Shut up!”

Tune in next week to see what happens.

It’s War! (Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Johnno the Merry Minstrel has discovered a lost prophecy written in the 16th Century by Sir Osric Wungo, foretelling doom at the hands (or feet) of the June Taylor Dancers. But Lord Jeremy Coldsore is unconvinced.

“Wasn’t he the chap who spent all his family’s money trying to find a lost city built by woodchucks?” he said.

“Let me break in before the suspense becomes unbearable,” writes the author, Violet Crespuscular, the Queen of Suspense, introducing Chapter DCCXLII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. Honk if you find the suspense unbearable.

“Never mind the woodchucks!” Johnno retorts, performing a secret finger signal to find out whether Lord Jeremy has joined the June Taylor Dancers. It turns out he hasn’t. Johnno is very much relieved. “Mr Pudding’s newts,” he adds, “will soon stamp Scurveyshire’s doom with ‘Return to Sender’!” (We pause for Ms. Crepuscular to reflect on the merits of the U.S. Postal Service.)

“What happens, though.” wonders Lord Jeremy, “if, after they’ve polished off the June Taylor Dancers, the newts turn on us?”

Not knowing the answer to that question, Johnno runs screaming into the forest. There’s no hope of catching him–“Not with that 20-pound accordion I’m carrying around today–I wonder why!” Jeremy soliloquizes.

 

Unleash the Newts! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Introducing Chapter DCCXLI of her immortical romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense (some call her the Queen of Commas), tips off Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad, to the threat posed by the June Taylor Dancers, ensconced in Scurvey Forest. (Wow, what a sentence!)

“I tried shootin’ ’em,” Twombley confides in our hero, Lord Jeremy Coldsore, “but they dance around so much, you can’t really take aim.”

“It doesn’t matter, old boy,” Lord Jeremy fewsters. “Once Mr. Pudding turns loose his killer newts, our dancer problem will be over.”

Newt - Wikipedia

(Here are two of them, actual size. Much more dangerous than they look!)

“Durned if I ever saw this Mr. Pudding,” Twombley says. “Where’s he live?”

“In a houseful of newts, undisclosed address,” Jeremy explains. “Supposedly he’s under the protection of an extremely high-ranking member of the government. Probably dangerous to find out who that is!”

[Ms. Crepuscular is still fighting Joe Collidge over rights to space on this blog. On Thursday she resorted to giving Joe an Indian burn. He is not old enough to recognize it as such.]

Violet Crepuscular vs. Joe Collidge (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

(Editor’s Note: We had no Internet on Friday, not till suppertime, so there was no Joe Collidge post for that week. He threatened to break his toys unless I gave him some space.)

I amb Out-Rayed!!! Imadgine!! Plublishing some stopid Rowmants insted of Socile Jutstus!! {Paragraph blacked out]

Didjiu sea “that”!”!” Thay sensered “me”!!! This heer it “is” toetully Crayzy!!!!! You doughnt senser Pro-Grestives!!!!!!!! Evvry boddy knows That!!!!!

[Enter Ms. Crepuscular. ‘Out, damned spot’ to Joe. ]

Introducing Chapter DCCXL of her interminable romance novel, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, has a bit of a fume.

“What does he mean, taking some of my space and giving it to that blithering idiot?” she demands. “Hello! Hello! I’m trying to write a novel here! Mr. Pudding and his newts–what do they care for inane American politics?

This was the chapter, she declares, in which we were supposed to find out what some of the June Taylor Dancers are doing in Scurvey Forest–and what Lord Jeremy Coldsore and Constable Chumley are going to do about it.

“I am going to hunt down this Joe Collidge nincompoop and have Mr. Pitfall break his arms!” Ms. Crepuscular writes. “How’s that for higher education!”

Mr. Pudding vs. The Deadly Dancers (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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The new plot thread is installed, and it’s a corker! June Taylor Dancers vs. Mr. Pudding’s newts! Grab a ringside seat while you can!

JACKIE GLEASON SHOW: AMERICAN SCENE MAGAZINE, June Taylor ...

Lest anyone should sell short the June Taylor Dancers as a threat, here they are in 1960 marching Jackie Gleason off to a secret facility under Yankee Stadium. There they refashioned his mind. Ouch!

Meanwhile, writes author Violet Crepuscular, The Queen Of Suspense, “Those newts are all trained killers! Under his meek exterior, Mr. Pudding is as mean as Yul Brynner in The Light at the Edge of the World!” We are not convinced that many people saw that movie. But if you watch it very closely, you might catch the fleeting cameo appearance by several of the June Taylor Dancers. They were going to make it a musical, but Kirk Douglas refused to play kazoo and that was that.

Where are we, anyway? Last I heard, it was Chapter DCCXXXII… but this latest one is labeled DCCXXXVIII. Did we just skip six chapters somehow? And whatever happened to Lord Jeremy Coldsore and Constable Chumley?

“They are under cover–so don’t blab about it!” Ms. Crepuscular shushes her readers.

Here’s the original Janet Kendall cover, in case you were missing it and felt rather sad.

Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Ms. Crepuscular’s Last Stand (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Trying to finish composing her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, suddenly found herself standing on a chair besieged by large stick insects, one of which is actually the evil medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, wielding a fly-swatter in defense of her sanity.

(Go ahead–just try to diagram that sentence!)

Yesterday Mr. Pitfall rescued her by blasting the insects with his fire extinguisher. They promptly left the house.

“I am not all right!” Ms Crepuscular confides in her readers. “For two cents I’d throw this book away and start it over!”

Good lord: all CDDXXX chapters? That’s 730, isn’t it–730 chapters scattered to the winds? I beg her not to do it. Mr. Pitfall begs her not to do it. What could be more traumatic than starting Oy, Rodney all over again from scratch? A reader in Kazakhstan begs her not to do it.

Maybe a few days away from the stick insects will calm her down. Forsooth, imagine yourself as a character in Oy, Rodney, confronted by the looming catastrophe of your whole universe dissolving into dust because some writer wants to throw in the towel. Maybe the Oy, Rodney cast should take over writing the book. It could be one of those fictional characters’ collectives.

Find the Sorceror! (Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, confides in her readers: “Sometimes real life spills over into fiction–and vice-versa.

“You will recall that the notorious medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, transported himself into the 19th century, only to find that he made an error that turned him into a large stick insect….

What is the definition of a giant stick insect? Are there any giant stick insects in Australia? If so, how many types are there and what do they look like? - Quora

“Horrible, isn’t it! And now imagine several hundred of these converging on your kitchen! That’s what I’m dealing with today!”

We do not know how she’s dealing with it. Suffice it to say it’s an unbearable distraction for anyone trying to write an historical romance. We must also consider the possibility that one of these stick-bugs is actually Black Rodney seeking revenge upon the author.

And so we have no Oy, Rodney chapter for this week: Ms. Crepuscular has been forced to stand on a chair, beating back the stick insects with a Disney World fly swatter. Chapter DCCXXX is just sitting there, waiting for the next chapter. Readers all over the world are disconcerted.

If only she could find the stick insect that’s Black Rodney, and clobber it with the fly swatter! But they all look alike. You could swat a hundred of ’em and still miss Rodney.

The Sorcerer Strikes Back (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

“We are coming down the home stretch!” ululates Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, as she introduces Chapter DCCXXX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. “All I have to do is tie up fifty or sixty loose ends, and it’s a wrap!”

She confides in her legion of readers, “You will remember that the old medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, cast a time-travel spell to bring himself up to the 19th century. At least, you should remember! It’s not something that happens every day.

“Alas! He bungled the spell and came back as a large stick insect–without vocal chords, so he can’t recite a spell that would restore him to human form. Suffice it to say he’s now crawling around Scurveyshire in search of edible leaves.”

Meanwhile, Lady Margo Cargo has mistakenly married her butler, Crusty, thinking him to be Lord Jeremy Coldsore. Crusty was paying no attention at the time, so it was a jolt to him to learn about those nuptials. Lord Jeremy is not amused.

“I’ve a good mind to ask you to shoot that interloper!” he remarks to his friend, the American adventurer Willis Twombley, who thinks he is Sargon of Akkad. Twombley takes it seriously and shoots Crusty in the foot. Now Crusty can’t serve the wine without stumbling and spilling it in Lady Margo’s lap.

“And here we will leave it for the time being,” concludes Ms. Crepuscular. “It’s how we suspense writers crank up the suspense!”

Silly me: I thought they called it “dawdling.”

Bringing Back Rodney (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Introducing Chapter DCCXIX (“How do you pronounce that, anyway?”), Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, explains her decision to bring the evil medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, back into the story.

“I know, I know–the critics are all saying he can’t possibly come back, he must be some 600 years old or more,” she pullulates. “But they have failed to reckon with time-travel spells!”

It has been, however, a long, long time since Rodney used any of those spells; and this time, something has gone wrong.

Black Rodney has come back as a very large stick insect.

“Now that he’s a stick insect,” she explains, “he has no vocal organs. He can’t talk. He can’t pronounce the counter-spell which might restore him to human form. Then again, it might not. These things are very tricky!”

What was the purpose of bringing back Black Rodney after all this time?

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” she cries out loud. “There’s just no pleasing certain people, is there? Just last night my neighbor, Mr. Pitfall, spat out one of my toothpaste brownies! He said it tasted like something from Pnath! I don’t know where that is. But I’ll betcha whoever lives there has healthy teeth!”

We will leave it here, for the moment.The critics are getting restless.