Tag Archives: humor

My Latest Novel

I sent this novel to the publisher during the October submission window last night.  I am hoping it will get published and add to my published catalog.  Superchicken was my nickname in high school, so this one is a little autobiographical.  This is also the one where a boy is tricked into going camping with a girl who has a crush on him at a nudist camp.  So it should be noted that some things in this story really happened.  Still this young adult novel is mostly funny, a little serious, and a lot of fantasy.

superchick_novel Supe n Sherry_n

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Red Skelton

I don’t usually do portraits, but, as I believe I may have said on an older post, Red Skelton is like a god to me.  Much of what I know about comedy, I learned from him back in the 60’s and early 70’s.  I watched him religiously on Wednesday nights on both CBS and NBC (channels 5 from Mason City, Iowa, and 13 from Des Moines).  He made me laugh.  Sometimes he even made me cry.  So I honor him now with a portrait (or insult him, depending on your opinion of my artwork) in a Paffooney of Red as Clem Kadiddlehopper, pride (or maybe village idiot) of Cornpone County, Tennessee.

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Foreshortening

When something is nearer in the picture, it appears bigger than those things that appear farther away.  This is called foreshortening.  It is artists’ jargon for the kind of superhero pictures that Jack “King” Kirby always used to do on the covers of Avengers, Fantastic Four, and Captain America comic books in the 60’s and 70’s.  The hands that reach out to grab you.  The fists or the gun-barrels that rush toward you.  These are the things I must draw bigger than the anatomy or the scenery that comes behind.  So let me try that with novel ideas.

Snow Babies is being published as you read this.  Here is a one-sentence foreshortening of that novel; A blizzard so terrible that omens of death by freezing begin appearing, descends on a small Iowa farm town, and four young runaways on the Trailways bus must find shelter of more than one kind.

I have gotten Superchicken ready to be submitted to a publisher.  Here is a one-sentence foreshortening of that;  A boy moves to a small Iowa farm town where he doesn’t fit in and is treated as an outsider, but before he can feel like he truly belongs, he must learn about himself and the super powers he has always had inside him.

The first draft that I have just finished is called The Bicycle-Wheel Genius.  This is the foreshortening for that;  A genius inventor has lost his wife and son to a lab accident, so he must come to terms with the dangers inherent in science as he tries to heal himself by making friends with the gifted boy who lives next door.

If you are a writer and have written a book or two, can you do a foreshortening on that story?  I would be fascinated to hear about it, even if it takes more than one sentence.monsters

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Protagonists

Tim!
I have been thinking about who qualifies as the Protagonist in my most recent novel, The Bicycle Wheel Genius.  I have to ponder this because the title character, the inventor Orben Wallace, doesn’t actually seem to be the center of his own story.  Instead, it is the boy who lives next door that is learning about life, adventure, girls, and imagination.  In the novel, the inventor has taken a vow to never use electronic devices if he didn’t have to because it was an electromagnetic invention that went awry in his laboratory and started the house fire that killed his wife and son.  So he tries to invent things with pedal power and tries to forget the wife and son he lost.  But it happens that Tim Kellogg, the inquisitive boy next door, not only reminds him of the lost son, but he actively tries to learn about Orben and make friends with him.  Tim has a best friend, Tommy Bircher, who shares in his adventures and always stands by his side.  But Tommy’s parents are involved in an international business that moves them away from Tim.  He has to deal with the loss of his best friend.  At the same time, his new best friend, Mike Murphy, has discovered girls.  One particular girl, Blueberry Bates, is in love with him and captures his young heart.  So naturally Tim is upset, and so tries to get back at the girl who took his replacement best friend.  He has to learn to understand an appreciate the girl and her needs better.  Tim and Orben desperately need to be friends with each other, and through shared adventures, they discover that the bond between them is very powerful.  So, I have to conclude that Orben is not really the protagonist of his own story.  He is not the one who has to learn something and fundamentally change.  And Tim Kellogg begins and ends the story, just as he does in this post.

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Finishing the Wheels of Stone (I finished my novel…Yay!)

MillisI finished a novel today.  I reached Canto One Hundred and Eighteen (I inexplicably call chapters cantos and pretend that they are really parts of an epic poem or story-song).  I put an ending on the story I have been working on since the Summer of 2012.  Now, it probably is not obvious to you, especially if you are a writer who takes a rough draft and reworks, rewrites, revises, and does several other things to it that start with re-.  I don’t work that way.  I build a story with stone blocks, and am loathe to take foundation stones out of it once I’ve constructed the castle in the air.  So this story, Blue and Mike in colorThe Bicycle-Wheel Genius, starts with gossip in a post office, and ends with tears and laughter at a wake for a beloved character whom I never expected to die when I started the story.  It can no longer be changed.  Like any stone structure, all I can do now is polish the surface.  So, I am elated.  The worst of the birth pangs are over.  Have you ever tried to pass a stone castle?  Painful is a total understatement.  And I have to say, I love this story now with a passion, even though when I reread it out loud to polish it, it is going to tear my heart out all over again.  But it is done, and the celebrations must now begin!

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Little Mermaids

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Why do I post a Paffooney about a mermaid?  Especially the horrific tale of the Little Mermaid written by Hans Christian Andersen?  I cannot really say… unless it is about self-sacrificing love… and its redeeming value.

In the original story, the 15-year-old mermaid discovers that mermaids, though they live for 300 years, do not have a soul.  She also manages to save a handsome prince from drowning, and then falls in love with him.  She goes to the sea witch to become human and have legs.  For the switch from fins to feet, the little mermaid pays a terrible price.  The sea witch cuts out her tongue.  When she drinks the feet-making potion, it hurts as if she were being split by a knife.  And, though, she can’t talk to win the prince, she can dance.  Dancing, however, feels like walking on broken glass, constantly bleeding and hurting.  So she goes to win true love’s kiss from the prince, the only thing that can give her a human soul.  But the prince is a total jerk, refusing to believe that the mermaid is the one who saved him and marrying the princess next door instead.  The sea witch gives the mermaid one final hope.  She can kill the prince, and bathing her legs in his blood, become a mermaid again.  Though he probably deserves to die, she decides she cannot kill him, and so she dies, becoming sea foam.  Yep, a horrible story in which the heroine sacrifices herself for a love that exists only in her own heart.

And the story doesn’t end there.  In the 1952 Danny Kaye movie Hans Christian Andersen, it is suggested that he wrote the story of the Little Mermaid as a ballet to send a message of his self-sacrificing love to the ballerina he loved but had no idea of his love.  Now, we know the movie doesn’t even try to be biographically accurate, but the real Andersen, a self-proclaimed asexual being, had many deep affairs of the heart that were not only non-sexual, but decidedly unrequited.  He had loves both female and male who could not love him in return.  No one ever gave the old bachelor the kind of love he desired, and yet, in his self-sacrificing way he poured his love into some of the most lovely fairytales ever written.

Disney had the audacity to change the little mermaid into a story with a happy ending.  This, of course, was the Disney way.  Although Walt Disney was dead and had no knowledge of the animated film, he would’ve approved.  Wish-upon-a-star magic of happy-ever-aftering is pretty important to the Disney legacy as a whole.  The lovely cartoon musical saved the Disney empire from decline and dissolution.  I am aware that the business plan of evil corporate manipulator Michael Eisner also has to be given credit, but I prefer to believe that everything can only come to a happy ending by mixing in the essential ingredient of unconditional love.

Why, then, did I do a Little Mermaid Paffooney?  Was it so I could draw a naked young girl?  I hope not.  I hope it is because I believe that the only purpose of art is to portray the uncloaked love that exists at the center of all experience.

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The Little Mermaid by Edmund DuLac

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Carl Barks – Master of the Duck Comic

One of my most valuable books of magic is Uncle Scrooge by Piero Zanotto (with a forward by Carl Barks).

Barks ducks

This book is filled with some of the best cartoons from Duckburg written and drawn by Carl Barks.  Scrooge McDuck was first created by Carl Barks in 1947.  Barks had inherited the Donald Duck comic book franchise from Al Taliaferro in the 1940’s.  He used his animation training to create an artfully sequenced series of stories that transformed Donald from an enraged character screaming at life into a responsible Uncle with three nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie, as well as relatives like his unfailingly lucky cousin Gladstone Gander, crazy inventor Gyro Gearloose, villain Magica DeSpell, and the richest duck in the world, Uncle Scrooge McDuck.  His run of amazing adventure comics created through the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s fueled much of my art training and story-telling training as a boy through comics like the following;

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http://pencilink.blogspot.com/

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http://www.empirecollectibles.com/

I read these comics to pieces.  I studied every panel in great detail.  Carl Barks means more to me than most of the teachers I had in school… all but three or four of them.  And I hope this little post of praise will inspire you to look into the man and his ducks, and find there the beauty, the wisdom, the adventure, and the humor that completely captivated me.

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Doofy Dog Doings

I noted before that I have so far used an alarming number of dog-poop jokes in my creative writing projects.  (All right, two instances may not really be alarming, but it does indicate that I am thinking about dog poop way too much.)  I guess the reason for it is that I have a dog, and she is not a genius dog.  She is smarter than I can cope with, but she only beats me at chess once out of every thirty games.  She inspired today’s Paffooney, so let me show you the picture before I tell you everything that is wrong with my little dog.

Dingledum dog

Okay, my dog looks nothing like this.  She is a Cardigan Corgi, a dog bred to chase and kill barn rats, or to protect the baby’s crib when the adults are not in the room.  She is highly possessive, and she considers me her property.  So, here’s where the dog poop comes in.  I have to walk her twice a day, and I have to take a Walmart bag with me to pick up the poop in the park (even though it is obvious that no one else in our neighborhood does it despite the posted law).  And it turns out that this is not enough to keep her from pooping in the house.  The little poop factory can make as many as five times in one day.  And even worse, she will poop in punishment if we commit the crime of leaving her alone to go somewhere.  We get back from the dollar movie and she has pooped on the dining room carpet, or in front of my bedroom door, somewhere where she knows I will see it and get mad.  She doesn’t care if she gets punished in return.  She is satisfied if she made her point.  So I am drowning in dog poop on a daily basis.  It’s no wonder it’s on my mind and I end up writing about it.  God help me, of all the things to have on your mind, I have dog poop on mine!

If you are wondering about the rat in the picture, there is a rat part to my doggy nightmare.  We live near a city park where there are lots of storm drains and rain gutters for rats to inhabit.  And there are throngs of rats.  When we kept the dog in the yard on a chain, the rats would come by daily to laugh at her before coming into the house and gnawing rat holes into the walls and ceilings and eat the glues out of the spines of many of my books.  So rats are a part of the reason she now gets to live in the house.  My wife goes ballistic from seeing or hearing rats.  But I think they still laugh at her as they come in anyway. It’s just that they stay quieter with her around and my wife doesn’t see or hear them.  So, it would be problem solved if only the poop problem would go away.

Here’s her actual portrait.  Sorry if it is too scary for children and the faint of heart.

Jade Monster1

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Making a Meme

Trying to do social media marketing for my book tends to be a lot of sharing of memes.  (Is that pronounced “Meeems” or “Meemees”?)  I borrow stuff from others and post it based on my values, my politics, and my notions of what is wisdom.  But the stuff that’s out there is wild and woolly, strange and fool-y.   Quotes from authors and figures I respect are not actually things they said.  Some of the memes are positively hateful and negative.  I believe in gentle humor… things that make you laugh because they reveal unexpected truth.  I don’t like insulting and degrading things.  I could call Rush Limbaugh or Ted Cruz names.  They make that very easy.  But I don’t find that junk funny.  So, I decided to try making what I think is a good meme.

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There it is.  I made that.  Share it, or throw up about it, I have no control over that.  I have no clue what makes something like that go viral or trend or whatever else they call it.

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Bad Character

As I lay here ill with another in an endless series of viral infections, I am reminded of the real reason I have been thinking so much lately about Charles Dickens and Thomas Hardy.  (Of course the fact that I am re-reading Tess of the D’Urbervilles has something to do with it).  It’s all about character.  That’s what Victorian writers were all about.  No one ever handled characters as masterfully as those two novelists.  And, being ill and in pain, subject to problems with debt and credit cards and bankers, I began thinking about villains.  Bill Sykes from Oliver Twist is one of the scariest villains in literature.  Murdstone from David Copperfield  and Daniel Quilp from The Old Curiosity Shop are relentless predators.  Uriah Heep from David Copperfield is smarmy as they come.  In Tess young Master D’Urberville-Stokes has stolen the family name, and he steals Tess’s innocence in a manner that would make him a rapist in our day.  He gets away with his horrible crime and later destroys the innocent woman, one of the best and most worthy characters in literature, because a corrupt and disintegrating culture allows him to do so.  These characters are so carefully drawn and gloriously illustrated in the prose of these books, that I can see them in my artist’s mind’s eye.  So I was inspired to draw a villain today.  Since I am forced to think about bankers now, I drew a pirate.  Yes, I know there’s no transition between Victorian novels and this picture, but I am not well, okay?

Black Tim

This particular pirate has a red face, red hair, red mustache, and wears red clothes, so naturally his name is Black Timothy.  He is a credit card banker for Bank of America, the foulest kind of pirate to ever sail an international bank on the high seas.  His friend is named Scruffy Bill.  Now, when pirates get an arm or leg or other limb blown off by cannon fire or cut off in a saber fight, they replace that part with a wooden prosthesis.  Bill has lost every limb he has, including his head.  Now that his head is replaced with a wooden prosthesis, he can only repeat what Black Timothy says… but that works out well, because no one really understands Tim when he speaks, and Bill uses simpler words to say the same thing (primarily because he doesn’t remember all the bad words Black Timothy knows).  So Bill takes the place of a parrot, and he serves as a translator for Tim allowing all of us to be truly disgusted by what he says.

Now, I am aware that my villain in no way matches any of the wonderful characters in Victorian novels, but I wanted to make a Paffooney with pen and ink and colored markers, and I have a lot of red markers.  Forgive me for random acts of Paffoonery.

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