[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA.]

ALL MY CHARACTERS ARE THIN, LITHE, AND HAVE LIMPID EYES

Hello, All! Melanie here.

Last week, Writer X and friends started their New Year with a bang, a boom, and then a lot of smoke. Most of this occurred when X accidentally torched Gladys’s house with fireworks.

X is in crisis. While visiting the new department store in town, X saw herself in the dressing room mirrors and realized her weight was the real thing wrong with her writing. She and her new friend, Leonard Biggleton, have started seeing a wellness coach specializing in Internalized Fat Phobia.

Meanwhile, the demon Tryxy wished on New Year’s Eve that his band Demonkitty (a band consisting of one demon on drums and one adorable, deaf kitten on the microphone) would become famous. Wonder of wonders, it seems things are starting to happen. Just last week, the college radio station played their song “Ninevah Burns In My Soul.”

Or maybe it’s a coincidence.

Without further ado…

---

Subject: I can only be a great writer if I’m THIN, GLADYS!!!!!!!

Dear Gladys,

I went power-walking past your house this morning with my new friend Leonard Biggleton and we noticed that your place was still a heap of blackened posts and rubble. Any idea when you’ll get around to rebuilding??? You can’t live in a tent forever!!! Especially in the middle of January!!!!!

Anyhoo, I’m sure you’re dying to know how my writing is going. Remember that Internalized Fat Phobia Coach I was telling you about?? If I could just get her to help me lose weight instead of except my weight as it is, my writing would be on a WHOLE NEW LEVEL!!!!! But for some reason, my Internalized Fat Phobia Coach seems to be the LAST person to understand how this works!!!

I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to write this email, but I’m typing with one hand. With the other hand, I’m pumping serious iron.

Hang on, Galdsy, that’s Mr. Morgan calling me. BRB!!! (That means “be right back.”)

Okay, I’m back!!! It seems like every time I turn around, Mr. Morgan is under the delusion that he has a chance of WINNING ANYTHING WITH ME!!!!

Just the other day I was at Mr. Morgan’s Food Emporium and Things Nicely Priced and you know what I heard???? Demonkitty’s song “Ninevah Burns In My Soul” was playing in the canned soup aisle!!!!!! I immediately texted Tryxy and let him know and of course he lost his mind and came running over.

I may have also told Tryxy that Mr. Morgan was a huge fan of his and wanted Demonkitty to come play at the grand opening of his new sushi counter. I have no idea why I said it, Gladys, I just want Tryxy to be happy!!!!!

Then, when Tryxy got to Mr. Morgan’s, Mr. Morgan had the nerve to act like he had no idea what Tryxy was talking about and started saying that he wasn’t sure he had “insurance” that would let a musical act perform next to a food prep counter loaded with sharp knives, raw fish, and a risk of Scromboid Poisoning. When I told him that the MUSICIANS weren’t at ANY risk of Scromboid Poisoning, he too failed to see the point.

Don’t you worry, though, Gladys. I’m going to get Mr. Morgan to book Demonkitty for their sushi counter grand opening if it’s the last thing I do!!!!!

Hang on, Gladys, I dropped my dumbbell on my boyfriend’s laptop. Sweat is slippery!!! I need some weight lifting gloves!!!!

What was I saying??

Oh, I was telling you how the key to me becoming the next big epic fantasy writer of all time is for me to become as thin and impossibly beautiful as my characters!!!!! My new friend, Leonard Biggleton, is also seeing the same Internalized Fat Phobia Coach and he’s experiencing similar results. NO WEIGHT LOSS AT ALL!!!!!

He told me that he started feeling bad about his weight when he was little and it made him depressed and being depressed made him eat and then he gained more weight and no matter how happy his love life is, or how magnificent his Deck Building Business is doing, he still feels like a massive failure in life because he doesn’t have a 32” waist.

Gladys, isn’t that RIDICULOUS????? Leonard Biggleton is handsome, kind, passionate about decks AND fireworks, and he’s got a mean power-walking pace!!!!

I told him so and he smiled softly at me and said, “That’s very kind of you, but it’s not how I feel. I just feel like if I lost all my fat, it would go a long way to getting rid of my internalized fat phobia.”

I comforted him by explaining how my situation is FAR WORSE!!!!! I’m supposed to be the next big epic fantasy writer of all time and while my life looks perfect with my pink wardrobe, fantastic collection of disguises, my faberge egg display, AND I’m in a power couple with none other than my boyfriend, award-nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins who is ADORABLE, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to win awards or write my nine book epic fantasy saga if my thighs jiggle!!!!

Leonard said, “I’m not sure how your weight is connected to your writing?”

FORGIVE HIM, GLADYS, HE DOESN’T KNOW.

I said, “How am I supposed to write with confidence if I’m worried about having a double chin shadow in my author photo, Leonard????”

Then HE said, “What about all the amazing, fat, beautiful SFF writers out there?”

I said, “THIS IS ABOUT ME, LEONARD!!!”

I can’t believe this isn’t obvious to him!!!! It’s not about authors, it’s about CHARACTERS THAT AUTHORS CREATE!!!!!! OUR CHARACTERS ARE HOW WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE!!!! I channel my internal loathing into creating impossibly perfect versions of me!!!!! My characters are supposed to be tall, waif like, with purple eyes. WHO ISN’T BETTER WHEN THEY’RE TALL, WAIF LIKE, WITH PURPLE EYES?????

Was Bombur not the fattest and laziest of all the dwarves??? Who idolizes Bombur???

Is there a single scene in all of the Hunger Games trilogy in which Katniss dons her mockingjay pin after wrestling into her favorite pair of Spanx?????

Galdsy, I saw you at the theatre watching Endgame with your cousin Blanche. Was Fat Thor called Sexy As Hell even once???? Okay. I’ll give you that. But by anyone BUT me????

Not to worry. I’m going to give my new and naive Internalized Fat Phobia coach a couple more weeks to come around and see the Writing on the Wall. And in the Books. And in the subtext. After that, I should have lost at least ten pounds and should be feeling a lot more like the Next Big Epic Fantasy Writer of All Time!!!!

Okay, Gladys, I’ve written you an email and completed 40 reps with my 2 lb weights. I’m going to be super strong!!!!! I feel thinner already!!!! I have to see what the scale says!!!!!! BRB!!!! (That means “be right back”.)

I’m sorry. You may have been wondering why I disappeared from writing this email for three and a half hours instead of hitting send.

Well, I weighed myself and saw that I had GAINED four pounds since this morning. Then, I lost my mind and fell into a rotisserie chicken and a whole whoopie pie!!!! Then when my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, found me licking whoopie pie crumbs off a chicken carcass, he said that I had left my dumbells on the scale and that was the reason behind my four pound weight gain. So I got on the scale again but I was now one chicken and a whoopie pie heavier!!!!!

Then he asked “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY LAPTOP???”

Gotta go!!!! Pages next week, Gladys!!!!

xox,

X

ALWAYS

WANTED

TO PLAY

A SUSHI

COUNTER

GRAND

OPENING.

IT’S THE

PERFECT,

UNLIKELY

PAIRING:

ROCK

AND…

ROLL.

GET IT?

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA.

NEW YEAR, NEW ME!!!

Hello, All! Melanie here.

I hope your New Year is off to a great start. My love and I visited friends in what was one of the best New Year’s we’ve had in a long time.

In true Writer X fashion, it seems she and her friends also celebrated with similar camaraderie and her New Year’s Resolutions started off with a bang.

Without further ado…

---

Subject: The Biggletons & SOME LIGHT AUGURY

Dear Gladys,

I hope you are off to a productive and prosperous New Year, particularly with regard to decoding the arcane mysteries of your home owner’s insurance policy!!!! I drove by your neck of the woods today and noticed that the smokey tinge hanging over your neighborhood like a funeral pall had mostly, but not quite fully, dissolved.

Anyhoo, I’m sure you’re dying to know how my writing is going and I have to say, I have been thinking a LOT about me and how amazing it is to be the next big epic fantasy writer of all time but, to be truthful Gladys, there are some things deep down inside that I feel I want to change.

FOrtunately for me, those changes will be on the way thanks to our New Year’s Eve celebration at your next door neighbors, the Biggletons. Do you know the Biggletons??? John and Leonard and their pet emu Terrence??? I suggest bringing them a little housewarming gift as soon as enough of the wreckage is cleared. Don’t be a bad neighbor, Galdsy!!!!!!

I have to tell you about the Biggletons and the New Year’s Eve ritual that is about to change EVERYTHING!!!!

It all started when I was checking out the new independent department store in town, Humperdink’s. They had a very nice selection of the highest quality New Hampshire designer clothes, all the haute couture you could possibly dream of in all of New England!!!! They have everything a high-fashion girl like me could want: insulated overalls in at least four shades of camouflage, patent leather-look waders, a full selection of fashionable fishing vests, bright orange lingerie to wear under your hunting gear so that you can be sexy while searching for baers, ubiquitous t-shirts that growl at you about freedom and/or motorcycles.

BUT I DIGRESS!!!! I was trying on a pair of patent leather-look waders in the dressing room and glimpsed myself in the mirror and was alarmed at what I saw. I could have sworn I was taller, thinner, and better looking!!!!! How could the next big epic fantasy writer of all time look like that in the mirror???? That’s when I knew the mirrors at Humperdink’s were broken and I marched out to speak to the manager!!!

Leonard Biggleton had beaten me to the punch!! There he was, standing with a pile of fireworks for his New Year’s Eve celebration, giving the manager a piece of his mind while brandishing a roman candle and saying, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY YEARS OF MICROWAVED LEAN CUISINES I HAVE ENDURED ONLY FOR YOUR MIRRORS TO TAKE IT ALL AWAY???!!!!”

To which the manager offered a wonderful brochure for a Body Acceptance Coach specializing in dismantling internalized fat-phobia with a fifteen percent off coupon tucked inside.

Long story short, Leonard invited me, #bestkitten, Tryxy, and my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, to their New Year’s Eve extravaganza. They have a fantastic tradition in which everyone lights a firework and makes a wish. The bigger the explosion, the more likely your wish at coming true!!!!

Tryxy wished that his band Demonkitty would take off and get a record deal without compromising his college career at Miskatonic Online University. We all wished together with him.

Then, he lit a Super Sizzler Fast Cracker and shot it into the night. It gave off a brilliant green burst but then went a little weird and slid across the sky and into the lake. All in all, we felt like it was a mostly positive omen.

My boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, made an undisclosed wish and lit a Whooper Whomper. It gave the best explosion of them all—if you’re content with a cascade of your ordinary fire works spray of blue and gold and red.

But Gladys, I’m am proud to tell you that, when I lit a WHO’S YOUR DADDY and wished to change in any way that made me the next big epic fantasy writer of all time FASTER, not only were the initial sparks promising, but when the firework got stuck in that old knob and tube wiring on your roof, the electrical fire that ensued and burned your house to cinders TOLD ME EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW!!!!

Big things are in store this year, Galdsy!! Big things indeed!!!

Gotta go!! I’m going to be late for my appointment at the Body Acceptance Coach. Fifteen percent off!!

Pages next week, Gladys. Happy New Year!!!

xox,

X

CAN’T BELIEVE

THIS, BUT

#BESTKITTEN

JUST TOLD

ME OUR

SONG

“NINEVAH

BURNS IN

MY SOUL”

IS PLAYING

ON THE

LOCAL COLLEGE

RADIO

STATION!

[Click for larger image.]

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

EMERGENCY SERVICES FOR SFF WRITERS

Hello, all! Melanie here.

Can you believe it? Writer X has reached her one-hundredth fit!

Thanks for your continued reading from all of us: me, Writer X, Tryxy, #bestkitten, award-nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group, and the town of Cradensburg.

Without further ado…

---

Subject: These guys are GOod!!!

Dear Gladys,

Have you ever used this new service??? It’s pretty good!! They can even remove were-porcupine quills from your face!!!!

Or at least I feel like they’re good. I’m having a hard time remembering if I’ve ever used them.

Ah well, off to see if you can hug a were-porcupine as research for my next story!!!

Pages next week, Gladys!!!

xox,

X

[Click for larger image.]

HAPPY

HUNDREDTH

FIT! SCHOOL

IS GOING

GOOD. FINAL

EXAMS

THIS WEEK.

SEE YOU

NEXT WEEK.

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

THE SUBMISSION WHISPERER

---

Subject: ADDRESS????

Dear Gladys,

Do you have the address for the Submission Whisperer?? I want to use her services but she hasn’t listed it anywhere!!!!

xox,

X

[Click for larger image]

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

ENTER THE WORTEX

Hello, all! Melanie here.

It’s been an eventful NaNoWriMo for Writer X and her friends, although not much of it was spent writing. If you were writing for NaNoWriMo, I hope you had a great month.

When last we left the writers of the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group, they were still searching for the missing fantasists of their nemesis writing group, The Fantasy Writers’ Meetup of Brokenheap, NH.

You see, thanks to her love of spying on people, Writer X had discovered that men in blue latex gloves had abducted each of the missing fantasists. Further investigation revealed another character posting clues about the abducted writers’ whereabouts. The poster went by the name of the Mysterious “W.” The Mysterious W informed them that the disappearance was part of a Deep Publishing Conspiracy and urged those looking for the writers to find out what the writers had been writing when they were abducted. Then, they would have to “Enter the Wortex.” 

It turns out that each of the Brokenheap writers had been working on their memoirs when abducted. If that doesn’t send a chill down your spine, you probably need some explanation.

Meanwhile, Tryxy has been stuck in Paris in the year 1789 thanks to his borrowed SpaceTime machine breaking down. X has been kitten-sitting #bestkitten while he’s away, but it’s complicated her ability to throw herself fully into discovering the missing writers.

Without further ado… 

---

Subject: SECRET Secrets of the Universe – DON’T TELL!!!!!!

Dear Gladys,

What I am about to tell you may risk your life. Remember how I told you last week that we took the advice of the Mysterious “W” and discovered that the missing fantasists of Brokenheap WERE WRITING THEIR MEMOIRS???? And remember how I told you that it made PERFECT sense??? And remember how I told you that I would explain it to you some other time??

Please make sure you are sitting down while you are reading this.

Everything in the world is an ILLUSION.

Remember when we were taking tenth grade physics with Mr. Hunky Dunky Anastasio??? And he told us that there are four forces working in the universe: Gravity, Electromagenta force, Strong Nuclear Force, and Week Nuclear force. And remember how I failed physics and Mr. Hunky Dunky said it was because I “never studied” and “never did my homework” and “slept through the final exam???” Well it turns out, Mr. Hunky Dunky wasn’t just a dreamboat, he was also unknowingly in on a global conspiracy!!!!

IT WAS ALL A LIE, Gladys!!! I didn’t fail physics because of something as silly as “homework”!!!!! I failed physics because there AREN’T FOUR FORCES. THERE ARE FIVE.

Gravity. Electromagenta Force. Strong Nuclear force. Week Nuclear Force. And the most powerful FORCFE of them ALLLLLL!!!!

Marketing!!!!!

And THAT is why Memoirs make perfect sense.

You see, the marketing forces of the universe have been shaping our existence for thousands of years. Much of what you see and experience in the world is as a result of marketing forces.

If it weren’t for marketing forces, we wouldn’t have book genres, or words like “dependability” and “halitosis.” We wouldn’t have signs that say things like “Act Now!,” “Limited Time Only,” and “Black Friday Sale.” And we wouldn’t have decision fatigue!!!! What would you do without decision fatigue, Gladys?? Your decisions wouldn’t have nearly as interesting outcomes as they do at 7:16 pm when you’ve finally left work and have to choose between leg night at the gym, a clown shoe flash sale, and leg night at KFC!!!! 

But why would Memoirs make the fantasy writers of Brokenheap disappear?? Well I’m about to tell you.

Oh wait. They just called #bestkitten’s name. I’d better act now; the nurse will wait for a limited time only. Now THAT’S Dependability!! It’s a little hard walking with these clown shoes covered in fried chicken grease so Secrets of the Universe are going to have to hold a little longer, Galdsy!!! I’m at the vets and they’re giving #bestkitten a dental cleaning to treat her halitosis.

Secrets later!!!!

xox,

X

sent from my iPhone

---

From: Bevvy Hart

Subject: Fw: Re: Re: Re: How do we enter the Wortex?

Dear Gladys,

I’m still at the vets!! Will write more about marketing forces later. A sasquatch got loose and ran through the examination room and now we can’t find #bestkitten!!!!

I’M INFAMOUS GLADYS!!!!!!

xox,

X

begin forwarded message

Dear Fellow Writers,

I want to repeat that writing a memoir is EXTREMELY dangerous and any of us that engages in such a thing are taking our lives in our own hands. That said, if one of us is going to do something as deadly as write a memoir in hopes the Blue Hands capture us, it should be someone who has enough writing clout. ALL of the Brokenheap writers have publishing credits, and no doubt that has something do to with their abduction.

Ravenhair, I’m sure you’d like to think you’re well known and capable of saving the day, but you aren’t. You don’t so much as a have a short story credit to your name.

If anyone is famous enough as a writer to draw the attention of the Blue Hands, it’s Tod Boadkins.

If anyone is infamous enough, it’s Writer X. 

Warmly,

Bevvy

Bevvy Madison Hart she/her
Wandering Spirit Small Press, CEO
A Vegan Owned and Operated Press

On Mon, Nov 27, 2023 at 9:04 AM  Thomasina Prepper <DoomsdayReady@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Bevvy,

I trust that you’re the best judge of your feelings, even if I can’t help but feel you have a lot of unexpressed stress. I have a meet up tomorrow with my Perimenopausal Self Defense Shitkicking Group. You’re free to join us if you’d like to blow off any steam.

Ravenhair, I’m blown away by your bravery and willingness to endanger yourself to blow Deep Publishing into the next world and save the Brokenheap writers. Please don’t start anything until we’ve all had the chance to plan our attack.

#EnterTheWortex

<3,

Thomasina

On Sun, Nov 26, 2023 at 7:14 PM Bevvy Hart <wanderingspiritpress@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Thomasina,

I don’t see what you’re saying. I’m not resentful of Ravenhair at all. I’m deeply supportive, and harbor no animosity toward any living creature. I’m vegan. That means that I am committed to peace with all living things, even if they erringly feel they know the answer to everything.

Warmly,

Bevvy

Bevvy Madison Hart she/her
Wandering Spirit Small Press, CEO
A Vegan Owned and Operated Press

On Sat, Nov 25, 2023 at 10:17 AM Ravenhair Silkenwind <Ravenhair@xx_xx.com> wrote:

If that’s what has to be done, I’ll do it. I’ll write my memoir. I’m single and no one would miss me. Except my mom.

But how would we do this? Would you all come to my house and watch from hidden locations? How long should I attempt memoir writing? Is there any information out there that shows how long a memoirist has to live once they start their memoir?

-Ravenhair Silkenwind

On Sat, Nov 25, 2023 at 9:13 PM Thomasina Prepper <DoomsdayReady@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Y’all,

There’s no getting around it. If Deep Publishing is behind the Blue Hands that X described, we have to get abducted by the Blue Hands to get to the bottom of this. The only way we’re going to enter the Wortex that the Mysterious W wrote about would be for us to write OUR memoirs. If the Wortex or the Mysterious W exist at all.

Everything I know about Doomsday, the Illuminati, and the DaVinci Code tells me that THIS IS ALL TRUE. I can feel it in my prepper bones.

Bevvy, I don’t mean to pry, but I noticed that you seem to have a lot of resentment directed at Ravenhair over the last few weeks. Is everything okay?

<3,

Thomasina

---

From: TRYXY BO BIXIE BANANA FANA FO FIXIE…TRYXY!

Fw: Fw: Claim #66678PXTU

Dear Gladys,

I’m still at the vet’s office which is why I haven’t told you more secrets of the universe. But it’s gotten very interesting here. After that sasquatch completely wrecked the exam room and stole all the ancient magazines in the waiting room, the vets had some trouble finding #bestkitten so came out to enlist my help. 

We searched and searched and found her in the break lounge. She was napping peacefully on top of a laptop keyboard one of the technicians had left open.

On the screen there was a new document file with a poem written that the technician swears they did not write.

“Friends are all there is,
in a world full of striving.
Friends are all there is,
when you gonna start thriving?
Friends are all there is,
so put your ego down.
Friends are all there is,
bSIH q8yq=30th=q0e”

Gladys!!! Is it possible #bestkitten can write things with her butt????

In the meantime, I got this from Tryxy. Things are not getting any better for him in Paris of 1789. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to write a memoir and get captured by the Blue Hands while I’m still kitten-sitting!!!

xox,

X

begin forward message

X,

DID YOU TAKE #BESTKITTEN TO APPOINTMENT? WATCH OUT. THAT PART OF TOWN IS INFESTED WITH SASQUATCH.

LOOK AT THIS. THE PANDEMIC STILL HAS EVERYTHING MESSED UP. THIS IS THE LAST TIME I SPACETIME TRAVEL. TOO MANY ISSUES.

LOVE YOUS,

TRYXY BO BIXIE

BEGIN FORWARDED MESSAGE

On Mon, Nov 27, 2023 at 7:34 AM  Spacetime AAA Claim Support <[email protected]> wrote:

Dear Claimant,

Thank you for your patience. We are working to resolve your claim. Please know that our rescue and repair department is short-staffed. We have been unable to assign an agent to your claim.

The SpaceTime machine HK007 models that have service issues frequently require a specific sensor light to be replaced. That sensor light is only made by a company located in 2914 on Betelgeuse. Our next shipment of sensor lights should arrive in 4 to 6 centuries.

You are a valued customer. Thank you for trusting SpaceTime AAA for all your spacetime traveling needs.

Sincerely,

Agent 33867

---

Subject: We lost

Dear Gladys,

I’ve been meaning to write you about the secret secrets of the universe, but I’ve been very busy.

Once we all agreed that my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, should be the one to write his memoir and lure the Blue Hands into a trap, we all loaded up on shots of espresso.

As you may remember, Gladys, the Blue Hands make you drowsy when they kidnap you. Bevvy Hart had the most espresso, about nine double shots in all. Then, we met at his house and hid under his bed and in the closet. Mark and Thomasina Prepper both have martial arts training so they took the spaces closer to my boyfriend so that they would be free to attack.

Sure enough, no sooner had my boyfriend written the first three sentences of his memoir, a swirling blue circle appeared behind his chair. Out stepped a big burly guy in suit, sunglasses, and blue latex gloves.

Mark and Thomasina moved from their hiding spaces in the closet, but to everyone’s surprise, Bevvy Hart leapt through the air with limbs flying like a yowling cat. She was a flurry of rage as she bowled the Blue Hands over and proceeded to beat him with her writing journal as she yelled: “How dare you write no words for NaNoWriMo!! Some of us struggle to write! You think you know everything?? You think you know everything??”

We all stood in shock until Bevvy straightened herself and took a cleansing breath. Then, we dragged the unconscious Blue Hands into the Wortex with us, but not before we deleted my boyfriend’s memoir file and narrowly avoided a moose stampede!!!!

When we got to the other side, we were standing in the barracks of a secret publishing compound of a corporation called Kindlespark – A Memoir Publishing Specialist. Fortunately for us, they had just called everyone into their latest marketing meeting so there were only a few guards posted around for us to fend off. Bevvy Hart had really gotten into expressing her artistic frustration through violence, so most all of them ran off.

Unfortunately, the secret publishing compound was very large and we got lost several times in the cafeteria and child care center. But then Ravenhair spotted a sign that read “This Way to the Missing Fantasy Writers’ Meetup of Brokenheap, NH.”

I should probably tell you more about the secrets of the universe, Gladys, or else you might be REALLY confused.

Once upon a time, there were very few people who could read and even fewer people who could write Memoirs. This meant that memoirs were extremely valuable with many selling long after the writer’s death. With the invention of public education, social media, and a five day work week, a lot of other people began to want to tell their own story. Many of these were famous people or people who had contributed something to larger society, but a lot were not.

As a result, the market became FLOODED with memoirs by people whose only contribution to society was their memoir, thus driving down the value of the memoir genre with many writers giving away their stories for free on amazon. There was an imbalance in the marketing forces of the universe.

That’s when the marketing forces kicked into gear. Since there were so many people writing memoirs, the marketing forces worked to make those memoirs more valuable. Remember when I went on that Writing Retreat a couple years ago and over thirty memoirists went missing??? That’s an example of the marketing forces at work. One of the best ways to have a memoir from someone you don’t know become valuable is for that person to die AND THAT’S WHAT THE UNIVERSE STARTED DELVIERING!!!!! Not every writer knows this which is why so many can be fooled into WRITING THEIR MEMOIRS!!!!

That’s when Deep Publishing began. A small collection of memoir publishers came together and started luring small and medium famous people to write their memoirs, offering huge advances paid on publication. Then, they abducted the writers into the Wortex—a place where the laws of physics don’t always reach. Then, the writers would finish their memoirs where they were safe from marketing forces. When they emerged from the Wortex, they had finished memoirs and were immediately killed by a falling anvil, or a rogue lawnmower, or a freak moose stampede, leaving Deep Publishing free to forgo an advance, and sell a book that has increased in value BECAUSE THE WRITER DIED IN A FREAK MOOSE STAMPEDE!!!!!

Back to our rescue attempt!!!!!

We found the Brokenheap writers in their own comfortable cells, each sitting at their assigned computers, typing away. The blood drained from our faces as we realized what they had done. You see, Gladys, if they wanted to survive our bringing them back to the real world, they would need to immediately delete their memoirs or else risk Deep Publishing releasing the memoirs in retribution and killing them!!!!

But to the horror of our writing group, the Brokenheap writers HAD NOT BEEN WRITING THEIR MEMOIRS. Instead, they were protesting their abduction by switching back to their NaNoAnimal novels. Seeing as they had nothing to do for an entire month BUT write, they had collectively written over 567,000 words. Meanwhile, we had written just over 160,000 words. This means that, if we rescued them, we would succeed in thwarting Deep Publishing, but we would also lose NaNoPour Some Sugar On Me.

So we took a poll. In the end, we narrowly passed the vote to rescue them after four or five recounts. I also had the chance to explore the complex and discovered the year 1789 packed away in a closet somewhere in HR. There I retrieved Tryxy and now everything has been restored back to our nice, usual normalcy!!!!!

When we got home, I found #bestkitten asleep on my desktop keyboard and a note from the Mysterious W on the screen.

“Congratulations. Sometimes losing is winning.”

Well, another NaNoHit Me With Your Best Shot is behind me. That means I’m free to start writing again!!!

Pages next week, GLadys!!!!

xox,

X

SO GOOD

TO BE

HOME.

CAN’T BELIEVE

NO ONE

ASKED ME

WHO THE

MYSTERIOUS

W IS.

THAT’S

#BESTKITTEN’S

TWITCH

HANDLE.

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

THE PLOT DEVICE

Hello, All! Melanie here.

NaNoWriMo is still underway. For the very first time, Writer X and her friends appeared to be winning their annual word count competition against the Fantasy Writers Meetup of Brokenheap, NH. And this was in spite of the fact that Writer X has written exactly zero words so far!

Unfortunately, the only reason why the Fantasy Dream Team of Cradensburg is winning this year is because the writers of Brokenheap have mysteriously gone missing.

And that’s not the only mystery. A clandestine figure named “W” has appeared on the town’s NaNoWriMo Discord chat hinting that something called “Deep Publishing” has to do with the disappearance of the Brokenheap writers. “W” advised the curious to look at what the missing writers had been writing if they wanted answers as to what happened to them.

This week, the Cradensburg writers have been looking into the identity of this mysterious “W.” They don’t want to break into missing writers’s houses without knowing exactly who told them to do so.

Meanwhile, X’s best friend and high-level demon, Tryxy, had been time traveling to visit historical figures and take better pictures for their Wikipedia profiles. Writer X has been kitten-sitting while he’s away.

Tryxy’s latest trip was to hang out with the Marquis de Condorcet in Paris of 1789. His spacetime machine broke down and he’s been stuck in revolutionary France for nearly two weeks.

Turns out, Tryxy’s extended stay has gotten him in deeper trouble and it could impact the whole investigation.

Without further ado…

---

From: TRYXY BO BIXIE BANANA FANA FO FIXIE…TRYXY!

Fw: PARIS IS BURNING & NOBODY’S STRIKING A POSE (SAVVY FILERS WILL GET THE REF)

Dear Gladys,

Will you please go to my house and look for #floofybaby??? I checked Tryxy’s sock drawer in his abyss in the basement, and it’s not there. I’m on my way to the flea market to see if my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod BOadkins, hasn’t taken it with him.

We haven’t slept in four days!!!! Meanwhile, Tryxy’s going from one crisis to another!!!!! He could be gone ANOTHER THIRTY DAYS!!!!! How am I supposed to solve our NaNoMystery without sleep???????

You should leave now because THE TRAFFIC IS HORRIBLE!!!! Everyone’s out holiday shopping!!!!!

xox,

X

P.S. Will catch you up on NaNoHoobastank later. Right now, things are not looking good for our writing group!!!! We are no closer to finding the missing writers and I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING, GALDSY!!!!!

begin forwarded message

STILL STUCK IN PARIS, 1789, WAITING FOR SPACETIME AAA TO COME FIX MACHINE SO CAN COME HOME AND SEE YOU, #BESTKITTEN, AND TODDY, TOO.

GOOD NEWS: I’VE BEEN GETTING MY HOMEWORK IN ON TIME, EVEN IF I AM STUCK IN THE PAST. BAD NEWS: OTHER THINGS GOING NOT WELL.

TODAY IS JULY 14, 1789. KNOW WHAT HAPPENS ON JULY 14, 1789?

THE STORMING OF THE BASTILLE, THAT’S WHAT.

THERE’S SOME FIRE. A LOT OF SHOUTING. A FEW HEADS ON PIKES (YUCK!) AND NO ONE’S PRIORITIZED BATHING.

GOT YOUR NOTE ABOUT #BESTKITTEN.

SHE’LL BE FINE, JUST FIND HER #FLOOFYBABY.

THINK I LEFT IT IN MY SOCK DRAWER. IF SHE STILL WAKES YOU UP AT THREE A.M., YOU’LL HAVE TO FIND #FLOOFYBABY’S BABY.

NO IDEA WHERE THAT IS.

SHE HAS A VET CHECK UP TOMORROW. DON’T FORGET!

/SIGH. HOW AM I TO FIX THIS WITH A BUSTED MACHINE? HOW AM I ALWAYS SURROUNDED BY WRITERS?

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, INTERNET, AND A GLOBAL SUPPLY CHAIN.

LOVE YOUS.

TRYXY BO BIXIE

P.S. SO STRESSED! I MISS MY KITTY!

---

From: Bevvy Hart

Fw: Re: Re: Re: Re: Who the hell is “W”?

Dear Gladys,

Still at flea market. No sign of #floofybaby ANYWHERE. I just got this email from Bevvy. I wonder if she knows that a group of our writers carpooled over to Brokenheap with a trunk full of disguises this morning to beat the traffic. I got a text about a half hour ago reporting that no one could get past the crime scene tape and that they’re currently regrouping at the gas station outside Brokenheap to cobble together a Plan B!

No idea how they’re going to get into those houses, Galdsy!!!! I think I’m going to have to call in a flavor from you!!!!!

I wonder why Bevvy isn’t in the group texts? Oh, well.

I’m going to keep shopping while I”m here at the flea market. After all, Hogswatch is right around the corner!!!! What I could use is a good, old-fashioned Plot Device to solve this mess, but it’d be worth a fortune!!!! You never know what you’ll find at a flea market!!!!!

xox,

X

begin forwarded message

Dear Fellow Writers,

I hope you don’t mind, I took the night to think about our conundrum more deeply. We can’t be hasty about a situation like this. 

The best information we have on the Mysterious “W” tells us that they post at odd times. Discord tells us nothing about their location. The only thing I’ve noticed is that “W” posts whenever X is away from home, and when she has a viable alibi.

As much as I hate condoning the insanity, I loathe us falling further behind on our word count. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with X. We’re going to have to bite the bullet and find a way into the homes of the Brokenheap writers. 

Warmly,

Bevvy

Bevvy Madison Hart she/her

Wandering Spirit Small Press, CEO
A Vegan Owned and Operated Press

On Fri, Nov 24, 2023 at 7:19 PM Writer X <WriterX@xx_xx.com> wrote:

NO ONE WOULD BE ARRESTED IF YOU JUST WORE THE DISGUISES I’VE PROVIDED!!!!!!!! I would assist in the investigation more, but I am currently in the middle of a #bestkitten emergency and if I don’t find her #floofybaby, I MAY NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.

#EnterTheWortex!!!!!!!!!

xox,

X

P.S. Has anyone seen her #floofybaby???? It’s a bedraggled blue floofy thing about the size of an apple.

On Fri, Nov 24, 2023 at 7:14 PM Thomasina Prepper <DoomsdayReady@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Ravenhair,

Wish I had your confidence, but did you see the latest news from Brokenheap? The writers have been reported missing and police are conducting an investigation.

Following your advice would mean collectively breaking into several writer’s homes—which are now all crime scenes—and leaving our fingerprints on EVERYTHING. That’s a fast way to become Persons of Interest.

What the heck is a Wortex? Is that like a Vortex? But with Words?

<3,

Thomasina

On Fri, Nov 24, 2023 at 7:00 PM Ravenhair Silkenwind <Ravenhair@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Not so sure it’s a prank, Bevvy. Did you see the latest post? According to the Mysterious “W”, the only way we’ll find the missing fantasists is by entering “the Wortex.” The only way to enter the Wortex—apparently—is to find out what the missing writers had been working on.

If we keep searching for the identity of W instead of discovering the documents, we’re going to waste more valuable NaNoWriMo time. At this point, I don’t care about the competition, per se, but I do care about neglecting my WIP for too long.

-Ravenhair Silkenwind

On Fri, Nov 24, 2023 at 6:08 PM Bevvy Hart <wanderingspiritpress@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Dear Fellow Writers,

Here are our latest numbers. Since we’ve begun our search for “W,” we’re aren’t making as much progress. I must remind you that, last year, Brokenheap writers wrote a total of 154,227 words. It’s after Thanksgiving, and we aren’t even close to that. What if they’ve continued writing wherever they’ve been squirreled away? We’ll lose again!

Am I the only one who’s considered the possibility that W is not a prank, but that a certain someone within our group is feeling insecure about her word count numbers and wants to make herself feel better and so has come up with a missing writer conspiracy meant to draw the rest of us away from our hard work?

Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, NH:

7,675 total words written

Ink Black Coffee Club’s Fantasy Dream Team of Cradensburg, NH:

73,230 total words written

Bevvy Madison Hart: 7 words written
Tod Boadkins: 10,600 words written
Edwína Tómas: 2,004 words written
Ravenhair Silkenwind: 1,578 words written
Thomasina Prepper: 2,323 words written
Mark Prepper: 1,956 words written
Writer X: 0 words written

Warmly,

Bevvy Hart

---

Subject: A MAJOR WIN, GLADYS!!!!!!!

Dear Gladys,

Please apologize to your cousin Blanche. I accidentally rear-ended her car while I was pulling out from the flea market parking lot. I’m sure she’ll be comforted to know that her crumpled back end wasn’t for nothing!!!

As I skidded out of the parking lot in reverse and plummeted into Blanche’s car, the force of the impact sent everything that had slid under my seats out onto the dashboard!!!! Once my airbags deflated, there was #bestkitten’s #floofybaby on the dash!!! It was under the driver’s seat all along!!! Every cloud has a silver lining!!!!

Of course, I knew that miracles would happen once I activated the plot device I found under a broken baby basinet in a novelty toy booth at the flea market, although when I first found it, I wasn’t so sure it would work at all!!!!

What is a plot device???

Well, a long time ago, in NaNoPoodleSkirts gone by, many writers wrote novels by the seat of their pants. They would wake up every NaNo Morning and plug away, blindly typing one word after another until they found themselves 50,000 words into a story, but at the precipice of a GIANT PLOT HOLE or an IMPASSABLE PLOT WALL. What would they do???? How would they solve this without losing all their hard work????

This happened so frequently, that NaNoNymphomania became known as the place where novels go to get half written and then neglected in your hard drive. Of course, this was very bad. So the NaNoHouseofPancakes met with some Wizards of Writing to invent a magical device that could help writers fix their plot hole problems and save their novels!!!!!

Enter the Plot Device!!!!!!

Thanks to the Writing Wizards, a writer could simply enter in the specifications of their plot hole, and with the help of six D batteries, the Plot Device would get to work fixing things!!!! A simple click of the button created another plot device WITHIN THE PLOT that resolved the plot hole.

For example:

Say you’re a writer who has placed the thing the main character is seeking behind a ridiculous arsenal of dragons and high-powered wizards and needs something that believably allows the main character to overcome the problem. You could make it so that the cloak the main character is wearing happens to be resistant to dragon fire!!! BUT, that means you’d have to go back to all your earlier pages and write in the details foreshadowing the cloak or else risk a Deus ex Machina!!!!!

OR, you could use a PLOT DEVICE which will automatically generate the solution AND retroactively make sure it appears earlier in the story saving the writer from continuity errors, drafting time, and embarrassment.

And a Plot Devicve is JUST WHAT I FOUND!!!!! Once I found the Plot Device, I purchased it for six dollars and powered it up!!!! I entered in the following scenario:

Writers unable to enter missing writers’s houses and find out what they had been writing thanks to closely guarded crime scene because none of them have the courage or disguise skills of WRITER X to bypass investigators but I can’t bypass the crime scene guards because me and my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, have been unable to sleep because #bestkitten yowls until one in the morning because she’s looking for Tryxy, who might be stuck in the past for ANOTHER MONTH!!! And THEN she climbs on our faces at three in the morning and kneads our foreheads until we wake up again.

Then, I left the plot device to work wonders!!!!! I jumped into my car to beat the traffic leaving the flea market!!!

Who’d have thunk that a momentary decision to gun my accelerator into reverse to beat a line of pick up trucks exiting the lot would send me flying into your cousin Blanche’s car, thus freeing #floofybaby from its hiding place under my seat, but also sending me on a county wide police chase fleeing the authorities????

Next thing you know, Brokenheap’s police force was called in for back up to form a blockade on the bridge, stopping me from leaving the county but also suddenly leaving the writers’s houses unguarded and allowing OUR writers to don their disguises and enter the homes to discover the next key in finding the missing fantasists!!!!!!

Gladys, brace yourself because you’re NOT going to believe this.

The missing fantasists weren’t writing novels at all. Prior to November, all of them had received an exclusive invitation to WRITE THEIR MEMOIRS.

THEY WERE ALL WORKING ON THEIR MEMOIRS!!!!!!!!! This is all making so much sense now!!!!!

And of course, I’ll explain why it makes sense, just as soon as you hop on down to the county jail and bail me out. The police separated me from my plot device or else I’d do it myself!!!!

xox,

X

All correspondences sent from this device are subject to review by law enforcement and can be used as evidence in a court of law.

JUST

GOT THIS!

SUCH

GREAT NEWS.

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

THE MYSTERIOUS “W”

Hello, all! Melanie here.

When last we left our heroes, the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group (aka the Fantasy Writer Dream Team in Cradensburg) had begun their yearly NaNoWriMo competition for the highest group word count with the Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, NH. Writer X’s group has an unbroken losing streak and is more motivated to win this year than ever.

BUT!

Events these last two weeks have taken a peculiar twist. Just two days after NaNoWriMo began, the writers of Brokenheap went radio silent. This was great news for the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group. The silence meant no word count from Brokenheap, and the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group was celebrating having the leading word count for the first time in history.

That is until one of their members, Writer X, started looking for answers on what happened to the missing fantasists. It was either that, or she’d have to write something in November other than emails to Gladys.

Meanwhile, Tryxy, Writer X’s BFF and every Filer’s favorite demon, decided to do his part by not distracting his writerly roommates. Instead, he took up a noble hobby for November that would get him out of the house: going back in time to get selfies of historical figures so that he could update their Wikipedia profiles. He checked out the spacetime machine at the local library to assist him.

With pressure gaining on X to actually write something, X persuaded Tryxy to give her a ride back in time to the last day they’d heard something from the missing fantasists of Brokenheap. I’ll leave the exacts of her discovery to her.

Without further ado…

---

From: Bevvy Hart

Fw: Re: Re: Re: We are sailing to VICTORY!

Dear Gladys,

LOTS TO UPDATE YOU ON!!!! Will explain in next email!!!!

xox,

X

begin forwarded message

Ravenhair:

Obviously, if I had thought “writing” would be better, I would have used that word. Regardless of any innate bias you may hold toward me, I’m perfectly capable of choosing my own language.

Warmly,

Bevvy

Bevvy Madison Hart she/her

Wandering Spirit Small Press, CEO

A Vegan Owned and Operated Press

On Fri, Nov 17, 2023 at 6:43 PM Thomasina Prepper <DoomsdayReady@xx_xx.com> wrote:

WOW, Ravenhair! Your approach is inspiring. Maybe you should run a NaNo bootcamp for the rest of us. I’d go!

<3,

Thomasina

On Fri, Nov 17, 2023 at 6:38 PM Ravenhair Silkenwind <Ravenhair@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Bevvy,

Great subject line! Could only be better if you wrote, “We are WRITING to victory.” ;-D

I’ve discovered I write better in the morning. Up at 5:00 a.m. with all my writing done for the day by 7:30. I may even finish this novel for once. It would be my first.

Good news, all the same! Congratulations, team!

-Ravenhair Silkenwind

On Fri, Nov 17, 2023 at 6:11 PM Bevvy Hart <wanderingspiritpress@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Dear Fellow Writers,

Here are the latest word count numbers. As your beloved “coach” for this year’s competition, please be encouraged to continue on.

X, your complete lack of words is troubling. I have sent a list of writing affirmations, but you don’t seem to use them. I fear you mistake yourself for some kind of writing detective instead of a writer and this is not a “writing detective critique group.”

Friends, should we discuss what steps to be taken to address Writer X’s continued failure to produce words? Tod, you’re not required to attend as she’s your significant other.

Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, NH:

7,675 total words written

Ink Black Coffee Club’s Fantasy Dream Team of Cradensburg, NH:

55,403 total words written

Bevvy Madison Hart: 193 words written
Tod Boadkins: 18,119 words written
Edwína Tómas: 10,901 words written
Ravenhair Silkenwind: 17,054 words written
Thomasina Prepper: 4,899 words written
Mark Prepper: 4,237 words written
Writer X: 0 words written

Warmly,

Bevvy Hart

---

Subject: THE INVESTGITATION CONTINUES!!!1!

Dear Gladys,

There I was, two weeks into NaNoWeebleWobble and my investigation into the missing Fantasy writers of Brokenheap had come to a grinding halt. My friends were becoming relentless in hounding me about word counts. If I didn’t get a breakthrough on the case soon, who knows what I’d do with the rest of my November!!! I would probably have to WRITE my epic fantasy saga despite the hives it gives me!!!!

To make matters worse, my sidekick Tryxy ran into trouble last week. He was back in the late eighteenth century to get a pic with the Marquis de Condorcet. If you’re not familiar with him, he was DEFINITELY a hoopy frood. He wrote a bunch of books on gender and racial equality and Tryxy knew the guy could hang.

Here’s the best picture I could find of him. He totally deserves a glow up!!!

But just when Tryxy went to use the spacetime machine’s sound system to show Condorcet the wonders of Lil’ Nas X, the spacetime machine went KERPLUNK. Completely busted.

Tryxy’s been stuck in the eighteenth century using all of his demonic powers to magic up a wifi connection so he can still get his assignments in on time at Miskatonic Online University. It never fails!! Every time we use a spacetime machine, Tryxy has trouble with school!!!! And he’s pretty much stuck there until Spacetime AAA can give him a tow. I’ve been looking after #bestkitten while he’s away, keeping her company, sneaking her bits of ham, dressing her up as the cowardly lion BECAUSE WHY NOT.

Fortunately, Tryxy and I had made a lot of progress on the missing fantasists of Brokenheap the week before!!! I should catch you up!!!

As you know, when I hid in Rain F. Williams’ closet the last known day she had produced any words, she had been working on her word count when she suddenly drifted off. As I peered through the slats of her closet door, I spied a set of hands CLOTHED IN BLUE LATEX GLOVES covering her mouth just before I, too, succumbed to a SUDDEN SLEEPINESS!!!!!

Once Tryxy found me dozing on the floor of the closet, he woke me up and we went time jumping in the spacetime machine to the homes of TWO OTHER BROKENHEAP WRITERS:

1.) The formidable Boots Donovan, a 67 year old retiree who writes Sword & Sorcery and doesn’t have any internet so HE GETS A LOT DONE.

2.) The EQUALLY formidable Arlene Perry, a 50 year old bus driver who spends several hours each day surrounded by teenagers and so writes YA Fantasy that WILL MELT YOUR FACE OFF!!!!!

Sure enough, Galdsy, the same things happened at the Donovan and Perry houses. The writers nodded off while writing. The blue hands appeared, and just as I caught sight of the would-be kidnappers, I dozed off in my hiding places under the bed and on top of a towel rack respectively!!!!!

Before I could make any further progress—or figure out how to stop passing out—fate threw a wrench in the spacetime works and I spent nearly a week stalled out on the case of the missing fantasists.

That is…Until just a few days ago!!!!!!

Another mystery appeared on my horizon in the form of a mysterious person only known as “W.”

There I was, perusing our local NaNoBoogieWoogie Discord Server when I noticed a few INTERESTING posts by this W person.

The first one read: “Writers: Nothing you know is what it seems.”

Over the next two days, W made the following posts:

“When you don’t know where fantasy writers went, it all comes down to dollars and cents.”

“ASK YOURSELF: “WHAT WERE THEY WRITING?”

“Blue hands, blue hands. Filthy little plans.”

“DEEP PUBLISHING IS TRYING TO KILL US ALL. SPIES ARE AMONG US.”

“Deep Publishing has taken over NaNoWriMo, you just don’t know it yet.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking Galdsy, you’re thinking that I should have replied to W on discord and asked them what they meant, but before that occurred to me, I had already been banned from the server for posting too many pictures of my lunch in poor lighting.

IT’S NOT MY FAULT I EAT SEVERAL LUNCHES A DAY AND THEY ALL LOOK SLIMY!!!!! My mother’s great hunkle was 3/16ths hobbit!!!!

It didn’t help that Bevvy Hart has taken to calling me 32 times a day on the half hour to ask me if I have anything written yet.

I was stuck figuring out what W’s posts could have meant on my own, but that’s where I do my best DETECTING!!!! OBVIOUSLY W meant that the missing fantasists were part of some Deep Publishing Conspiracy that had infiltrated our writing world and that I needed to go to Brokenheap WITHOUT the use of Tryxy’s spacetime machine and discover what the missing fantasy writers had been writing!!!!!

Unfortunately, as you know, I’ve also been banned from the town of Brokenheap FOR REASONS I DON’T WISH TO DISCUSS, THANK YOU VERY MUCH GLADYS!!!!! That means that, to break into the houses of the missing writers, I’ll need a crack team willing to do the work in my stead!!!!

It just so happens that the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group is just that crack team!!!! But there was just one problem: Bevvy Hart hauled me into an MEmergency Tribunal to discuss what should be done about my lack of writing progress.

You can’t be mad at her, Gladys!!! Bevvy Hart isn’t exactly what I’d call “psychic.” She’s unable to perceive that she’s talking to the next big epic fantasy writer of ALL TIME!!!!! I don’t need to “write a novel” like other writers!!!! She needs to trust the process!!!!!

Unfortunately, the rest of my writing group also seems to be unable to grasp this as well, and when I proposed that, instead of fitting me into the Writing Iron Maiden or getting out the thumbscrews, they should go out to Brokenheap and find out what the missing fantasists had been writing…let’s just say it went over like an anvil wrapped in a bag of sand, wrapped in a lead balloon.

Ravenhair Silkenwind was the first person to explode. “You mean to tell me that I’m to just drop the best thing I’ve ever written and upset my writing schedule to find out why OUR COMPETITION ISN’T WRITING?!” He was super red faced.

Bevvy Hart glared at me from across the table and said, “X, please understand that I am saying this with love, but one of us isn’t pulling our weight and it’s not me, it’s you.”

To which I said, “But Bevvy, haven’t you only written 193 words in the last three weeks?”

“THEY’RE HAIKU!” she bellowed. “And this isn’t about me! Don’t change the subject!”

To which Ravenhair squinted and said, “But, wait. Haiku aren’t novels. This is National Novel Writing Month.”

Bevvy Hart made strangled noises. “Don’t blame me! I spend half of my time chasing Writer X around trying to get her to write words but all she wants to do is dress up like a violently pink version of Carmen Sandiago and hide in people’s garbage cans while she tries to help the enemy!”

“I haven’t hid in a garbage can in AT LEAST A WEEK!” I shouted. Although this was not true. It has actually been about three weeks since I’ve last hid in a garbage can. Just as all my friends were about to turn against me, it came to me what to say.

“Listen, everyone!!!!” I yelled. “Fellow fantasy writers have gone missing for more than two weeks! And all you’re concerned about is whether we win NaNoWalkieTalkie???? Which would you rather do; write, or be a good human being????”

Everyone fell oddly silent and chose to stare at their coffee mugs rather than meet each other’s eyes.

Finally, Mark Prepper clenched his jaw and said, “I guess I would rather be a good human being. If I have to. I guess.”

Ravenhair muttered something unintelligible.

“What was that?” asked Bevvy.

“I said ‘Good human being!’” Ravenhair yelled.

One by one, each of the writers voted to be good human beings. Except for Bevvy.

“I see what you’re doing, X. But you’re not going to get me to agree to any of this. Who’s to say this anonymous “W” is even a real person? Who’s to say they’re not just posting a bunch of conspiracy theories waiting for some pink-clad sucker to bite?”

At this, everyone looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah, what if it’s all made up?” asked Thomasina, whose never met a conspiracy she didn’t like.

Then, #bestkitten meowed from her kitten carrier. As you know, Gladys, she’s deaf so she HAS A VERY LOUD MEOW. It’s not like you can ignore it. I couldn’t leave her home alone without Tryxy so I brought her to Ink Black Coffee Club. She made such a fuss that I took her out of her carrier and put her on my lap where she curled in a ball and began to purr.

“What were we saying?” asked Bevvy.

“That W is a made up conspiracy,” said Thomasina.

#bestkitten opened one eye and fixed it on Thomasina.

But Edwina was the next to speak. While everyone had been shouting at each other, she’d been sitting quietly in her chair starting to hyperventilate. She bolted upright, her chair screeching with the motion. Edwina clenched both fists and tearfully began to splutter.

“B-but why do I have to be a good human being instead of winning NaNoWriMo? I’m finally writing an average of 2,000 words per day. Do you know how long it’s taken me to write 2,000 words per day??? Do you know how many Y-Y-YEARS it’s taken me to figure out my writing process? How many half-written short stories? How many notes by my bedside that I scrawl in the middle of the night thinking I have all the solutions on how to end my story only to find it says ‘mashed turnips’ in the morning???”

She began to hyperventilate. Ravenhair offered her his inhaler.

“Let’s take a vote,” said Thomasina. “Show of hands. Who wants to help X break into the missing fantasists’ homes and find out what they were writing?”

I raised my hand. If my boyfriend, award-nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, had been able to come, we’d have two whole votes instead of one!!!

Thomasina said: “Oooookay. That’s one. Who wants to keep writing without finding out what’s happening to the fantasists?”

“I don’t wanna be a bad person,” lamented Edwina.

Bevvy Hart raised her hand. Then, when she realized she was alone, she nervously tucked her hand in her lap and studied her coffee mug.

Thomasina said: “Okay. One. So that means the rest of us are on the fence. That’s four of us.”

Mark Prepper raised his own hand. “Who wants to find out who this Mysterious W person is before we go breaking into anyone’s houses or getting back to writing and possibly being a bad person?”

Four hands went up. After a few moments, a red-faced Bevvy Hart raised her hand, too.

#bestkitten stood up, turned a circle on my lap, then laid down again into a warm fur pile and began to purr again.

PAGES NEXT WEEK CALDYS!!!

Oh, wait. Maybe not. BUT WE’LL BE SOLVING A MYSTERY!!!!!

xox,

X

IF YOU’VE

BEEN HAVING

TROUBLE

WITH YOUR

WIFI LATELY,

I’M SORRY.

CREATING

A WIFI

CONNECTION

IN 1789

TAKES UP

A LOT

OF BANDWIDTH

IN OTHER

SPACETIMES.

MARQUIS

DE CONDORCET

SAYS, “WHAT

UP!”

I PUT

HIS HAIR

IN BOXER

BRAIDS

FOR HIS

NEW PROFILE

PIC.

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

THE MISSING FANTASISTS

Hello, all! Melanie here.

The last couple of weeks, Writer X has had a devil of a time deciding what she wants to work on for NaNoWriMo.

You see, she and her friends in the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group compete with the Fantasy Writers Meetup of Brokenheap, NH, every year to see which writing group can write the most words in November. Each day, the two teams tally their total word count and check to see who’s ahead. If they’re not sufficiently ahead, they look for someone to blame.

So far, Writer X’s team has yet to out-write Brokenheap’s team, but they have a few new members to share the load this time. I’m curious whether Writer X will get any writing done at all this month. After all, there was that goat.   

This year’s NaNoWriMo begins slightly out of time: the last email is the first email. Sort of.

In the meanwhile, the demon Tryxy has taken up a new and fascinating hobby!

Without further ado…

---

Subject: WELL THAT WENT GRATE

Dear Gladys,

Sometimes I think you don’t check your emails.

I know you are receiving this now, but I’m writing you NOW but I’m actually—hang on, let me count—three days in the future. Basically I’m on Saturday, Novemember 4th and you are receiving this on Wednesday, November 1st.

Thanks for not showing up!!!! Everything went fantastically and all my friends are totally not mad at me and getting ready to stage an intervention.

THAT WAS SARCASM!!!!!

In a few days you’re going to discover why it’s important to check your emails regularly. Just know that as a result of your actions the following things have happened:

1.) Ink Black Coffee Club has closed for sanitation reasons.

2.) My boyfriend has chucked his favorite boots in the dumpster and is giving me suspicious looks.

3.) The Fantasy Dream Team thinks that I’ve betrayed them and am in cohorts with the Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, NH.

4.) I’ve resorted to going back in spacetime again with Tryxy to show them that they’ve gotten it all wrong!!!!!

In the meanwhile, I need you to help me figure this out because you owe me and I suspect this goes deeper than I thought!!!!!! No time to explain, you’ll just have to read your future emails!!!!!

I am currently in the closet of Rain F. Williams’s home office in Brokenheap, NH sweating through my double breasted trench coat, disguise wig, and pink fedora. Tryxy’s outside in the getaway machine keeping an eye out for the fuzz!!!

As you might remember from last year, Rain F. Williams writes fairy-tale retellings. As a retiree, she is one of the most dangerous writers there is on the Fantasy Writers Meetup of Brokenheap, NH. She’s got a professional background and years of self-discipline to lean on and several fantasy books already published with a small press. She writes an average of 3,000 words per day and has won NaNoHokeyPokey a total of TEN TIMES!!!!

But tonight is the first night of NaNoNitwit and, unbeknownst to all of us, Rain F. Williams will report fewer than 2,000 words. Then, she will go silent and stop reporting words at all!!! Unless I get to the bottom of it!!! I just know that if I can solve this mystery then I’ll be able to get my friends off my back and get to my prewriting!!!! Everyone has too much time on their

Hang on, Gladys!!!! Something’s happening!!!!

Rain F. Williams has come back to her computer with a cup of tea.

She’s re-reading her words and making little corrections as she goes.

Now she’s cupping her hands around her tea cup and blowing steam off the top.

I think I heard a thump from somewhere in the house. Probably a cat.

Now she’s smiling contentedly at her words and scrolling further down the—

Wow, is it just me or am I suddenly very drowsy???

No. It’s not just me. Yaaaawwwwwwwnnnn. Through the slats in the closet door I can see that Rain F. Williams’ head is slumped against her shoulder. Her hot tea is spilling all over her carpet but she’s not getting up.

Gladys!!! There’s someone here!!! A pair of hands gloved in dark blue latex are encircling Rain F. Williams. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open!!! Kidnap!! They’re carrying her awawaaa

sent from my iPhone

---

From: Bevvy Hart

Fw: Re: Re: Is Brokenheap handing us a win?

Dear Gladys,

We have another mystery on our hands!!!!

xox,

X

begin forwarded message

Ravenhair:

Obviously I would have already done something as simple as check my spam folder before sending an email like this. Mansplaining?

Warmly,

Bevvy

Bevvy Madison Hart she/her

Wandering Spirit Small Press, CEO

A Vegan Owned and Operated Press

On Fri, Nov 3, 2023 at 5:07 PM Ravenhair Silkenwind <Ravenhair@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Bevvy,

The emails are probably going to your spam is all.

-Ravenhair Silkenwind

On Fri, Nov 3, 2023 at 4:24 PM Bevvy Hart <wanderingspiritpress@xx_xx.com> wrote:

Dear Fellow Writers,

I’m attaching the latest word count numbers in our competition against Brokenheap. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I haven’t received any updates from them since Wednesday, the 1st. Perhaps we’ll actually win this year?

X, as I’m the Team Coordinator for this year, I’m concerned that you’re off to a bad start. At some point, you have to stop “pre-writing” and get actual words written. Didn’t a goat write more than you last year? Let me know if you need any guidance on this. I find affirmations do the trick.

Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, NH:

7,675 total words written

Ink Black Coffee Club’s Fantasy Dream Team of Cradensburg, NH:

12,224 total words written

Bevvy Madison Hart: 73 words written

Tod Boadkins: 4,008 words written

Edwína Tómas: 2,489 words written

Ravenhair Silkenwind: 1,117 words written

Thomasina Prepper: 867 words written

Mark Prepper: 3,670 words written

Writer X: 0 words written

Warmly,

Bevvy Hart

---

Subject: WRITER X TO THE RECUSE!!!!

Dear Gladys,

NaNoTriceratops is here and to be honest all those writers mysteriously going missing couldn’t have come at a better time. Of course my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, and the rest of my writing friends in the Ink Black Coffee Club Fantasy Dream Team don’t believe that the writers have gone missing, but I have a seventh sense about these things!!!! My sixth sense is strictly related to knowing when the local pumpkin farm’s cider donuts are still hot and it’s been paying off in spades!!!!

Usually, I’d split the cider donut hauls with Tryxy, but he’s decided to keep himself occupied during NaNoMooseLips so that my boyfriend and I can FOCUS!!!!

This month, when he’s not doing homework or playing music with #bestkitten, Tryxy has once again checked out the spacetime machine from our library and is putting it to use. He’s going back in time and taking pictures of historical figures for their Wikipedia profiles. It’s MOSTLY going great. There was a small problem with his photo of Marie Antoinette, but that’s because he took it on September 21, 1792 when she was slightly shorter than she was on September 20, 1792.

Anyhoo, I’m sure you’re dying to know how my writing is going. As you know, I’ve had a hard time picking a project to work on for the month. I can’t work on my old unfinished epic fantasy saga due to the hives it causes, so I decided to work on a BRAND NEW EPIC FANTASY SAGA!!!! I know you don’t know anything about writing, Galdsy, but epic fantasy sagas aren’t written overnight, they have to be ABOUT SOMETHING. I have no idea what this is about. None. Complete blank.

Not to worry!!! Fortunately, I’ve discovered this thing called pre-writing. I heard my boyfriend use the word on the phone while talking to his mother and I’ve discovered that if you say “I’m doing a lot of pre-writing” to your friends on the Fantasy Dream Team, THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE ABOUT WORD COUNT!!!!! Besides, I don’t know why anyone needs to worry about me, after all, I’M the next big epic fantasy writer of all time!!!!!

Hang on Gladys, that’s my boyfriend coming up the hall. I think he hears my keyboard clicking and wants to make sure I’m writing but if he finds out I”m just sending you an email, he’ll be mad!!!

Okay I’m back.

In just a few short hours, the Fantasy Dream Team will be conducting our weekly check-in at Ink Black Coffee Club and I will have to confess that I haven’t written any words yet in front of EVERYONE. If I have to sit there while Bevvy Hart tries to conduct a writing intervention in front of Mark and Thomasina Prepper, I’M GOING TO DIE!!!!

Here’s where you come in, Galdsy!!!!!

Bevvy Hart will call the meeting to order at 7:00 pm. She open with a Writer’s Prayer and Moment of Silent Self-Importance. At 7:15 pm she will read the official word count from Brokenheap. THEN, she’ll begin to grill each of us for our day’s word count and our game-plan for producing more words in the next week.

I have taken the liberty of sabotaging the plumbing at Ink Black Coffee Club and will be slipping a high potency, fast-acting laxative into my boyfriend’s cafe Americano at about 7:13 pm. It will start working by no later than 7:23 pm at which time, my boyfriend’s stomach will get very bubbly. Shortly after, he’ll excuse himself and get stuck in the restroom.

WHILE HE’S AWAY, I need you to SWOOP in and tell everyone that it’s an emergency and the CIA is recruiting me to help you discover why the writers of Brokenheap have mysteriously disappeared. If you come while my boyfriend is still at the table HE’LL KNOW THAT WE’RE UP TO SOMETHING!!!!!

If I’ve planned things correctly—as I unfailingly do—just as my boyfriend flushes the toilet, the plumbing fiasco will kick in and the murky waters in the toilet bowl will menacingly rise.

My boyfriend will frantically pump the trip handle attempting to stem the incoming doom. Then, as the first wave sewage water sloshes against the toe of his boot, he’ll run for the paper towel dispenser only to discover that it’s finicky motion-activated settings has been programed to administer a mere three inches of paper towel.

You and I know two things about my boyfriend: he dreads the idea of anyone discovering he’s messed up a bathroom, AND motion-activated sinks and towel dispensers think he’s a ghost!!!! By the time he’s managed twelve inches of paper towel dispensing, you and I will be out the door and on our way to Brokenheap PERMANENTLY SILENCING ANY OF BEVVY HART’S QUESTIONS AND SAVING ME FROM AN INTERVENTION I KNOW IS COMING!!!!!

Don’t blow this for me, Gladys!!!!

Also, can I borrow your car and your driver’s license? I’ve been banned from the town of Brokenheap. Something something too many parking violations yada yada dumpster fire blah blah noise ordinance.

See you there!!!

xox,

X

P.S. Please bring your snorkeling equipment. I have a feeling we may need it.

Or my boyfriend will.

YESTERDAY,

I TOOK

A PICTURE

OF BEN

FRANKLIN.

SHOWED IT

TO X.

SHE SAID

HE LOOKED

SURPRISINGLY

THIN. I

SAID A

PAINTING

ADDS

FIFTEEN

POUNDS.

[Introduction: Melanie Stormm continues her humorous series of posts about the misdirected emails she’s been getting. Stormm is a multiracial writer who writes fiction, poetry, and audio theatre. Her novella, Last Poet of Wyrld’s End is available through Candlemark & Gleam. She is currently the editor at the SPECk, a monthly publication on speculative poetry by the SFPA. Find her in her virtual home at coldwildeyes.com (temporarily closed for update). Wipe your feet before entering.]

Writer X and the PASSIVE Character

Hello, all! Melanie here.

November is almost here and, last week, Writer X enlisted the services of a writing doula to help develop what she will write during the NaNoWriMo challenge. She didn’t get any closer to choosing or starting a writing project, but she did prep for the apocalypse (or the Alpacalypse, as she calls it) and I’m sure there are a lot of writers out there who can relate to this sentence more than you will ever know.

X is now days away from NaNoWriMo and she needs to do something NOW to make things happen.

Without further ado…

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Subject: NANABANANA IS IMMINENT!!!!!!!!!

Dear Gladys,

Remember how I told you that when I tried to go back to writing my still unfinished nine book epic fantasy saga that I broke out in hives? And remember how I told you that we’re supposed to submit our writing plan for NaNoMoMo BEFORE November???? And how I told you that our writing group, the Ink Black Coffee Club Critique Group is going to face off with the Fantasy Writer’s Meetup of Brokenheap, New Hampshire and compete for Most Words Written in November??AAAND remember how I told you that I didn’t write ANY words for last year’s competition but THIS YEAR IT’S GOING TO BE DIFFERENT????

WELL MY WRITING GROUP REMEMBERS. They won’t stop emailing me to remind me that I haven’t turned in a plan yet and that if I don’t turn in words this year I’ll make them look bad!!!! ME??? I got an email from Ravenhair Silkenwind reminding me that last year a goat wrote more words than I had. OH SURE TWIST THE KNIFE, WHY DON’T YOU??? That was a very talented goat!!!!

Even my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins, who is also in our writing group, sent me an email and HE LIVES WITH ME!!!!!

Anyhoo, I’m sure you’re dying to know how my writing is going AND I DON’T NEED PRESSURE FROM YOU, TOO< GLADYS!!!!!  

Fortunately for me I have a terrific BFF who’s also a high level demon from the Void of Asheput, the FABULOUS TRYXY. Btw, Tryxy and I have been planning our Halloween costumes for this year. We’ll be going as Scary Golden Girls. I’d invite you to join us but all the main characters are already taken. #bestkitten is going as Scary Sophia (of course,) Tryxy is going as Scary Rose because he already has a Betty White wig for some reason, my boyfriend, award nominated fantasy writer Tod Boadkins is going as Scary Dorothy, and I’m going as a very pink Scary Blanche!!! We’re going to be a hit at Johnny Chicken’s Boozy Halloween party!!!!

I got kind of sidetracked there. What was I telling you about Tryxy for???

OH I REMEMBER. I had Tryxy summon my main character of my epic fantasy saga into our reality and she’s sitting in my living room right now and I have a MAJOR PROBLEM!!!!

But first, I should explain to you the sheer genius of my plan. Remember a couple months ago when my boyfriend wrote such a VIVID character that it jumped out of the pages of his short story and chased us around Cradensburg trying to kill us??? Well, it turns out no one in our writing group has ever written such a good character that it literally reaches out the screen and shoots an arrow into the hood of their car!!!!! They were VERY impressed. In the meanwhile, I became a little depressed because none of my characters have ever chased us down a covered bridge in the rain!!!! What does that say about me???

And as Tryxy and I were talking and gluing sequins onto our Golden Girls get up, I SUDDENLY UNDERSTOOD WHY I BREAK INTO HIVES WHENEVER I THINK OF WRITING MY UNFINISHED EPIC FANTASY SAGA AGAIN!!!

Hang on, Gladys, I’ve become extremely itchy and have to scratch. BRB!!!

(That means “be right back” in internet.)

Okay I’m back!

I’m breaking out in hives because I don’t have good self esteem!!!!!!! Every time I think about picking up that still unfinished first novel at page one hundred and six and I think all the times I tried writing it before and I think that I have EIGHT MORE OF THESE THINGS TO WRITE and the fact that I’m still not famous and I—hang on, Gladys, the itching is REALLY BAD!!!!

Okay, I”m back.

Anyhoo, my hives are breaking out in hives so I should get to the point. Tryxy was thinking that if I could just have more self esteem then I would get over my hives and be able to write a novel for NaNoNocturnal Animals!!!!!

Tryxy sprayed glitter on to his Betty White wig and did his best Rose of the Golden Girls impression and said, “I’ve got an idea! What if you worked on your main character and made her a really vivid character so that she jumped off the page?”

I almost dropped my jar of hyper pink sequins. “Well, bless my stars, Rose. You’re a genius!” I cried in my best syrupy southern drawl. Tryxy likes it when we pretend to be the Golden Girls together. “But I have one better. How about you just summon my character to life just as she is now using your powers? THEN, I can take her to my writing group meeting and she can wow and amaze my friends and show them that I truly am the next big epic fantasy writer OF ALL TIME??? Why there’s nothing like watching their inferiority complexes do backflips to boost up my self esteem!!!”

Tryxy’s eyes slid my way apprehensively and he fit his Betty White wig onto his head. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Blanche. I’m not sure that’s quite the same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing, Rose! It’s better!”

Tryxy chewed his lips and thought for a few moments. “Well, if you say so.”

Next thing you know, he snaps his fingers and summons my Fenchin exactly as I had written her into our craft area!!!!!

You can imagine how I felt suddenly seeing my own beloved character—a character I spent YEARS daydreaming about—right before my eyes!!!!

I felt neither one way or the other. I thought I should love her but her hair was three different lengths because I couldn’t make up my mind was style she has and she really was just kind of blah.

SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH HER GLADSY!!!!!!!

I don’t know how to describe it but…SHE DOESN’T DOOOOO ANYTHING!!!!

She just showed up and stood there, staring out at nothing. I asked her if she was excited to finally meet her creator and she said, “I guess.” Then, I asked her if she could show me her magic and she said, “What magic?” and then I remembered that she hasn’t actually activated the hummindaal yet so she doesn’t know she can do magic yet. So then I said, “Don’t you want to do magic?”

AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SAID? SHE SAID—AND I QUOTE: “I guess? If I have to.”

Then she just stood there, not doing anything. Tryxy and I went back to working on our costumes thinking that maybe she needed time to acclimate to her new surroundings but she just stood there, staring at the wallpaper.

It didn’t take too long for my face to start burning with anger. How am I supposed to bring her to my writing critique group??? I’ll be the laughing stock of the whole group!!!! A character that doesn’t do anything and doesn’t want anything!!!! I said so to Tryxy.

He said, “Well, does she do anything in your story?”

I said, “Yes, of course she does!!! For instance in the beginning she’s picking herbs in the forest when the Riders of Moohoomoominboochuckalucks—I’ll change the name later—ride into town and tell her that’s she’s arrested. Then they arrest her.”

Tryxy said, “What does she do?”

“Well, she can’t do anything; she’s arrested!!!!”

“What happens after she’s arrested?”

“She’s thrown into the dungeon OF COURSE.”

“What does she do then?”

“She has to wait until she has to talk to the person in charge, her evil uncle!!!”

“Okay, she waits. But what does she want?”

“What do you mean what does she want? What does ANYONE want if they’re throne into prison??? To get out.” I couldn’t believe Tryxy was asking me such silly questions!!!!

“Nevermind,” said Tryxy. “I’m not a writer, so I don’t know what I’m asking.”

“I know, it’s a mystery,” I said. “Only I understand my character.”

“So then what do you think she wants? Like in the story. Like what is her story goal?”

“I don’t know what she wants!! IT doesn’t work that way!! Whenever I get stuck I just have something bad happen to her. It got me this far!!!”

And that’s when Tryxy and I launched our next plan. We decided that’s exactly what we needed to do to make this stupid character of mine DO SOMETHING. So we got in our Golden Girls garb and chased her through town with sticks. She ran into the Grim Hill area and you remember that guy who raises pit bulls??? Well, a bunch of his pit bulls got out and joined us chasing her. THEN, Tryxy, the pit bulls, and I chased her back into the Horn Hill neighborhood and went running past JOhnny Chicken’s house and you know how he has that old, cantankerous yellow rooster he calls Napoleon? Napoleon got out and next thing I know, he’s nipping at me and Tryxy’s heels so now we’re running from the rooster who’s chasing the dogs, who are chasing my character Fenchin!!!!

IT’S EXHAUSTING making things happen for a character who doesn’t want anything GLADYS!!!!

Then, we all ended up running circles around the town green until someone called animal control but it was too many animals so the officer threw me and Tryxy in the van instead and THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN GALDSY.

First, I need you to get me and Tryxy out of the shelter at animal control.

Then, I need you and your cousins to HUNT DOWN MY ABSOLUTELY BLAND CHARACTER and hold her hostage until my writing group meets tomorrow night and then chase her over to Ink Black Coffee Club since the only way you can get her to do anything is to make something HAPPEN to her!!! Then, my writing group will see her in action, suddenly feel inferior to my obviously superior writing skills and that will make my self esteem go up and I will then writing my epic fantasy novel for NaNoMishegas and go on to be instantly famous as the next big fantasy writer of all time because even if all my character wants is to get away from her writer, THAT’S WHAT I WANT.

TRUST THE PLAN, GALDSY!!!!!

Pages next week!!! I think.

xox,

X

P.S. WATCH OUT FOR NAPOLEON. HE’S STILL AT LARGE.

sent from my iPhone

HELLO

FROM

ANIMAL

JAIL, FILERS.

MY WIG

IS SWEATY

AND I

THINK

I’M

GETTING

FLEAS.

I SUDDENLY

HAVE

THE DESIRE

TO SING

ABOUT

TRAMPS

OVER AN

A CAPELLA

JAZZ TRIO.