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doc_destructoThis novel business is hard stuff. Especially since my brain wants to start drawing every quasi-brilliant idea that pops into my head. And trust me, since I started, I've had like 20 billion ideas for drawings on everything from Batman to Fluffy and Bearbear to new, crazy stuff.
Yeesh!
I'm gonna stop for a minute and rest up. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with my expected word count later tonight. I'm at 4029 word right now and need about 7000 by tonight. Shame I still have NO IDEA WHERE TO GO with this thing. But that's the joy and hurt of it, ne?
Anyway, going to interact with my son for a bit and hopefully catch the 2-hour block of Avatar later this afternoon. What can I say? I likes the kung fu!
And for those still keeping up with this thing, here's a treat from my "latest" novel. ^_^
Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear peaked out Des’s room. When the small raggedy stuffed elephant and overly stuffed nylon bear determined the coast to be clear, they began sneaking down the hall. Each step they made carefully, knowing full well that the hardwood floors were prone to creaking. It would not do to alert the humans of their movement, or worse: the Dog.
No, they needed absolute silence for their mission.
Normally, they would just allow Des to scoop them up and deposit them wherever. The life of a child’s toy did not require a great deal of forethought, just endurance. Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear had seen and been put through horrors no human mind could withstand. Hell, the amount of times they’d been put through the wash alone would destroy even the most stalwart of psyches.
No, this wasn’t about Des. It was personal. And as such, required that the duo make their own way to settle scores.
Slowly they made their way down the hall, past the art and bedrooms. They crept past the main bathroom and the hall closet, the green walls towering above them live emerald prison walls.
For a moment Dr. Bearbear faltered, panicked, urged and begged for them to return to their comfortable beds.
“No,” said Mr. Fluffy, ice dripping from his normally cuddly words. “This must be done.”
“Rawr,” Dr. Bearbear conceded, girding up his strength.
They carried on. Down the initial steps to bring them into the living room. The living room was a war zone of strewn yarn, discarded papers and dog hair. Hunter, the family pet, was a Keeshond who shed what seemed like a new coat every week. The living room had the highest volume of traffic in the house, for it connected the kitchen, the bedroom and bath hallway which they had just traversed and… the basement.
And the basement was where Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear needed to go. Quietly – oh so quietly – they made their way to the stairs. Softly, gently, they began to descend the brown shag carpeted stairs to the basement. Although basement was something of a misleading name. It was simply just the lower level of the house, burrowing into the ground. It contained the television and play room, also furnished with 20-year old brown shag carpet; the other bathroom and a large room Des’s mother had converted into a giant crafting and sewing room. The craft room housed the washer and dryer as well. Machines with which both Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear were all too familiar.
Carefully they descended. It appeared Des and his mother were out of the house for there was no sign of their master or his warden anywhere below. But there in plain sight was their goal. Dr. Bearbear restrained Mr. Fluffy, cautioning him not to rush in.
“Rawr,” he said. “Rawwwr rawr.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Fluffy acquiesced. “You’re right. This must be done… properly.”
They quit the stairs and made their way to center of the room.
The Big Frog stared at them, his wide unblinking eyes staring at them, through them. His girth was enormous; his center bloated to such a degree that his legs could no longer support him. Completely at their mercy, he stared.
And stared.
And stared.
“I am,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling, “a frog.”
It was all the bastard ever said. It utterly pissed Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear off to no end. This was why they risked everything. To teach the Big Frog a lesson.
Then came the beatdown.
Am I fuckin' weird or what? This is why I have no friends.
Yeesh!
I'm gonna stop for a minute and rest up. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with my expected word count later tonight. I'm at 4029 word right now and need about 7000 by tonight. Shame I still have NO IDEA WHERE TO GO with this thing. But that's the joy and hurt of it, ne?
Anyway, going to interact with my son for a bit and hopefully catch the 2-hour block of Avatar later this afternoon. What can I say? I likes the kung fu!
And for those still keeping up with this thing, here's a treat from my "latest" novel. ^_^
Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear peaked out Des’s room. When the small raggedy stuffed elephant and overly stuffed nylon bear determined the coast to be clear, they began sneaking down the hall. Each step they made carefully, knowing full well that the hardwood floors were prone to creaking. It would not do to alert the humans of their movement, or worse: the Dog.
No, they needed absolute silence for their mission.
Normally, they would just allow Des to scoop them up and deposit them wherever. The life of a child’s toy did not require a great deal of forethought, just endurance. Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear had seen and been put through horrors no human mind could withstand. Hell, the amount of times they’d been put through the wash alone would destroy even the most stalwart of psyches.
No, this wasn’t about Des. It was personal. And as such, required that the duo make their own way to settle scores.
Slowly they made their way down the hall, past the art and bedrooms. They crept past the main bathroom and the hall closet, the green walls towering above them live emerald prison walls.
For a moment Dr. Bearbear faltered, panicked, urged and begged for them to return to their comfortable beds.
“No,” said Mr. Fluffy, ice dripping from his normally cuddly words. “This must be done.”
“Rawr,” Dr. Bearbear conceded, girding up his strength.
They carried on. Down the initial steps to bring them into the living room. The living room was a war zone of strewn yarn, discarded papers and dog hair. Hunter, the family pet, was a Keeshond who shed what seemed like a new coat every week. The living room had the highest volume of traffic in the house, for it connected the kitchen, the bedroom and bath hallway which they had just traversed and… the basement.
And the basement was where Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear needed to go. Quietly – oh so quietly – they made their way to the stairs. Softly, gently, they began to descend the brown shag carpeted stairs to the basement. Although basement was something of a misleading name. It was simply just the lower level of the house, burrowing into the ground. It contained the television and play room, also furnished with 20-year old brown shag carpet; the other bathroom and a large room Des’s mother had converted into a giant crafting and sewing room. The craft room housed the washer and dryer as well. Machines with which both Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear were all too familiar.
Carefully they descended. It appeared Des and his mother were out of the house for there was no sign of their master or his warden anywhere below. But there in plain sight was their goal. Dr. Bearbear restrained Mr. Fluffy, cautioning him not to rush in.
“Rawr,” he said. “Rawwwr rawr.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Fluffy acquiesced. “You’re right. This must be done… properly.”
They quit the stairs and made their way to center of the room.
The Big Frog stared at them, his wide unblinking eyes staring at them, through them. His girth was enormous; his center bloated to such a degree that his legs could no longer support him. Completely at their mercy, he stared.
And stared.
And stared.
“I am,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling, “a frog.”
It was all the bastard ever said. It utterly pissed Mr. Fluffy and Dr. Bearbear off to no end. This was why they risked everything. To teach the Big Frog a lesson.
Then came the beatdown.
Am I fuckin' weird or what? This is why I have no friends.
