Violet’s fan mail – Lee Duigon

Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

We were deliriously excited to receive a long-sought email from Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense. Tension mounted as we worked our way into the contents. After all, we haven’t received any new material from her since March.

“Surely, all this time,” she addresses her legion of ardent fans, “you’ve been wondering about that guy in the goofy costume with the white knee socks, and the woman in the long dress falling for him. Who is he? Who is she? Eh? Eh?”

Violet’s mail man, William Faulkner (not the famous one), has accused her of being a witch. You’d think that would be suspense enough for anyone. “And I dunno about that costume!” he adds, then refuses to elaborate.

The guy who reads the meter, Millard Filmore (not the famous one) pungently disagrees. With a little bad luck the entire town could topple into civil war.

Meanwhile, there are mammoths, leprechauns, and the June Taylor Dancers to sort out (they’ve all invaded Scurveyshire).

Only Violet Crepuscular can do it!

Lord of the tube socks | Romance novels, Funny romance, Book humor

Introducing Chapter CDI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular takes a break from the plot and inserts extractions from some of her fan mail. She is hampered in this exercise by an inability to read. Otherwise she would never have let some of these letters see the light of day.

“It’s not that I can’t read at all,” she hastens to explain. “It’s just that I can’t read stuff that people write.” We are glad she’s cleared that up. “Fan mail,” she adds, “proves that you’ve got readers.”

From Cindy Indy, Rawalpindi: “Dear Ms. Crepuscular, your novel proves to be an effective decay-preventive dentifrice when used in a program of conscientious oral hygiene and regular professional care.”

Ozzie Spore, New York: “Your book is the only thing that keeps me living.”

Ms. June Spumoni, Bad Axe, Michigan: “My pet emu bit and kicked me after I lined his cage with pages from your wretched novel.”

Tom Popocatepetl, Jurassic Park, Hawaii: “How do you spell your name?”

“I have taken some flak for the elegant way in which I got rid of the monsters that had overrun Scurveyshire,” Ms. Crepuscular confides in her readers. She has run out of fan mail and needs to fill the rest of the chapter somehow. Harking back to her days in grade school, she writes in longhand, 100 times, “I must not waste paper.”