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.