My Refrigerator Has Left Me Loony
After turning in my manuscript on Monday, I decided it was time to slowly return from my zombie-writer state and begin the metamorphosis into Human before class starts on Friday. Part of this includes eating regular meals that do not entirely consist of delivery pizza, delivery Mexican food or tuna helper.
Unfortunately, I go to my fridge, and see this:
Including food and snacks hidden in my closet, I currently own a grand total of:
2 cans of tuna
1 box of ham
1 bag swiss cheese
1 half-empty box of cereal (no milk)
2 Eclipse mints
The problem with all of these is that none of them are quite big enough to make a meal that will put a dent in my hunger. That, combined with being exhausted after editing 120,000+ words multiples of times, has left me slightly loony.
Of course, as fate always goes, the night before I was turning the book in, I found a minor mishap in a sub-storyline, which is code for ‘a small plot hole’ when I don’t want to admit to it. It is not the best of feelings to arrive home at 6 PM to read the final 60 pages of your manuscript only to find that yes, there is something that needs to be fixed; yes, it is something important; and yes, you only have 6 hours in which to do it.
The good thing about finding minor mishaps in a sub-storyline is that sometimes, they lead you in a better direction than you were before. I discovered that by fixing this problem, I also was able to have a villain double-crossed, which is one of the most fun things to write, (second only to a secret door). Example:
“Here you are, massster,” hissed Earnoggin, dropping a box onto Dr. Steinsnot’s lab desk. “The brains of every citizen in all of town. Now, give me my freedom.”
Dr. Steinsnot looked over the brains, and then shrugged.
“First go put them down the brain-chute, from which nothing escapes.” he ordered.
Earnoggin quickly grabbed the box and went to the chute to dump them. But, the moment his back was turned, Dr. Steinsnot suddenly gave him a sharp kick, and sent him sprawling down the chute as well.
“Silly Earnoggin,” Dr. Steinsnot said with a cackle.
Dr. Steinsnot apparently just double-crossed the unknowing Earnoggin, by tossing him down the brain-chute and not giving him his freedom.
For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, I just installed a new chat on my other site and sometimes I drop in to talk with people. Wish me luck because school starts Friday!