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The Storyteller: The Heart of Darkness–First Chapter Preview
There’s still some road left to walk in getting The Storyteller: The Heart of Darkness into your hands, but in the meantime I thought I would offer a glimpse into the project. It’s a story I’ve been developing/writing for more than seven years and I have a mountain of notes to prove it. All told, it will be five books in length, with the adventure and mystery deepening and darkening as you journey forward with our protagonist, Oliver Miles. It isn’t simply a story, though. It’s not just a collection of words on a page, guiding you forward. As The Storyteller himself will tell you, this story is alive. And it’s been waiting for you.
Here’s the briefest of brief rundowns of what awaits you:
Sixteen-year-old Oliver Miles is not just a fan of The Damon Grell Chronicles, he is also about to become the last hero of the world in which the series of books takes place. Drawn into Elysium, Oliver must navigate through a world both familiar and unfamiliar—where magic is hidden in books, where life is born one word at a time, where the secret of his birth and the path to his future rest in a powerful darkness that threatens the world, and where he must find the answer to the one question that might save them all: Who is the Storyteller?
The Storyteller is watching you...
This links to a Word document, so if you don’t have that, it won’t download.
Click here to read the first chapter.
What To Do When Your Face Looks Like a Foot
As I posted nearly a couple weeks ago, I’m a glutton for punishment. Just for the sheer entertainment of it, I watch the Kardashians (all the shows!), Gossip Girl, however minutes of 90210 I can handle, MTV Road Rules, Britney Spears videos, and bad movies like Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter or MegaShark vs. Giant Octopus. I don’t do this because I undervalue quality programming, or because I feel there’s nothing better to do with my time. I do it because these shows and movies are devised by and filled with idiots. Idiocy is fun to watch. Surviving idiocy is a challenge. Before you challenge that, allow me to rest the blame on the retail world. I spent too many years serving idiots and now I have no recourse but to find it elsewhere in my life, lest I get another retail job simply to feed the need. I’m programmed this way by too many pointless and stupid questions by far too many dense and corrupted minds to ever be saved.
Hence this whole “make me watch something I’ll despise and live blog it” thing I’m starting today. Listen, much like sitting down to an episode of Gossip Girl, I’m not looking forward to being exposed to Sex & the City–certainly not for 6 straight hours. Even in watching one hour of any of the programs listed above, I do so yelling at it, calling out the characters and weak writing, and rolling my eyes every 5 minutes. But I value entertainment, and if I can entertain people whilst suffering through shows I, at my core, cannot stand, then it’s not truly for nothing. It’s my version of falling on the sword on your behalf.
Granted, it isn’t as if Sex & the City is a show that most people hate. But it’s a starting point. And no matter the confidence shown by some of you that I, too, will like this show, I’m not hopeful. Maybe in small doses, but not a whole season of it at once. That’s an overdose of idiocy. I’ll be cranky by the time it’s over. And yet, I leave the call open for more. Name something that I can watch for, let’s say, up to 12 hours straight that would be on par with the above. It can be a show, a series of videos, a collection of movies, you name it and I’ll do it. And I’ll live blog the event. This is your chance to annoy me. Make it count. The only caveat–naturally–is that it’s something I have to be able to get my hands on in order to watch.
So, today at 4. It begins. I hope to utilize the live blog function for live events as well. The Oscars, for example. Or the Super Bowl, so that we can pick apart the new commercials and Madonna’s attempt at a halftime show. What other live shows/events should I do?
I wanted to post a video from Family Guy, referencing Sarah Jessica Parker’s face looking like a foot, but I couldn’t find it and I need more coffee. Hopefully, I’ll find it in time to include it today’s live blog. In the meantime, an dead friend of mine–a hacker, obviously–has resurrected his Twitter account. He claims he’s going to use it to tell people the truth about life, but from what I can gather, he just wants to annoy people. One of his opening salvos was this one about Tim Tebow. After that, he went on a mini-rampage about Christianity, then disappeared. Hopefully he comes back, whoever he is.
Jesus is no Broncos fan
It’s Not Torture When It’s Fun
It’s no secret that I stopped keeping up with the music scene about the time that hair bands starting losing their hair. I think I’ve bought 2 cd’s in the last decade. Could be longer. Might also be that one of those was Chinese Democracy, so that might not count at all. I listened to it once and decided it was best to remember my favorite bands the way they were. When they were still good. So I willfully stepped aside and stuck my nose in the next Harry Potter (or the one before it–who can really tell when you’ve read them all as much as I have). It’s not that I dislike music, I just came to the realization that trying to keep up with writing, reading, paying my bills and watching as many movies as my dollar would allow was as much as I can handle. I’ve taken a beating for this, most notably from a certain NYC bound friend who prides himself on his musical knowledge, book quote tattoos, snazzy vests and pre-show panic attacks. But he did like Zooey Deschanel for a while, no matter how much he denies it, so I’m feeling ok with myself.
Last night, after a riveting mimosa-buzzed performance of female pop icons by the one and only Moss (really, there will be videos in the future–there’s nothing like it), I had to admit–with no fraction of regret–that I never watched any of the videos from Britney, Christina, Mandy Moore, or Jessica Simpson. I apparently had no context to the compelling renderings of these classics that the Moss was pouring heart and soul (and a good dose of nasal pinching) into, so she threatened to make me watch them. And with all good threats by the Moss, it was immediately implemented lest she get busy watching the last season of Will and Grace and forget. She showed me Britney’s Oops, Toxic, and Baby One More Time (Which is obviously about being really cool in high school. I don’t know, you tell me.), and then followed those up with Christina and Genie in a Bottle, that one where she’s all skanky-ho in the boxing ring (whatever that disease of a video is called) and Fighter. I actually liked Fighter, for what that’s worth to you. I don’t even remember what the Mandy Moore song was, but I kept thinking of Saved and wasn’t really paying attention. Somebody should have told her that she’s about as sexy as Cheerio’s in lime juice, though. Jessica Simpson used to sing, did you know? I saw a video! There was a plane, or something, and she was doing stuff–I don’t know what. She might have even been singing. All I can think of when I see her is one of her many infamous quotes: “I don’t know what it is, but I want it.” What a maroon.
It was after the fourth–or it could have been the fourteenth–apology by the Moss for needing to show me just one more that I realized I wasn’t bothered by it at all. In fact, I was enjoying it. Wait. I wasn’t enjoying it, per se, but I was enjoying how insanely bad they were. I like watching bad videos, movies, and television shows. I get to flex my comedic muscles, while instantly feeling better for myself in the process. I don’t need therapy, I just need more of the Kardashians.
Which leads me to my prevailing point: Torture me with the worst you can show me, I don’t mind. It’s not torture if it’s fun. It’s entertainment. I enjoy it so much, I’m going to make a spectacle of myself in order to make it even more entertaining. The Moss has offered up the first season of Sex and the City. I’m going to pick a day, set aside 12 straight hours and watch them all. I’ll set up a live blog, pipe comments into Facebook and Twitter, let everyone play along, and we’ll see what becomes of me. I’m not sure that my mind is prepared for 12 straight hours of that… can I really call it a show? Four weathered hags and their quest for sex, relationships and, I don’t know, luggage? I’ve never watched an episode, so I really don’t know what it’s about, but I will admit to having seen the first attempt at a movie. Like I said… I like to watch bad movies.
Anyway, if it goes well–whether anyone is paying attention or not–I’ll open it up to the public. You can pick something, I’ll watch it, blog about it, and probably lose my mind over it. I might even become religious to avoid remembering it. I don’t know. It could be fun for everyone. As soon as the Sex and the City marathon is in place, I’ll post about the specifics. I don’t mind doing this for my own entertainment, but it’ll be more fun if people are checking in on me. I’ll need it. That, and pizza.
For the moment, however, I have a song stuck in my head. More than that, a video that makes no damn sense at all. I think, based on Britney’s costume, that it’s sponsored by Trojan. At the very least they hopefully handed out condoms on the set, just in case. If there is a “script” it was written by a very lonely young man living in his mother’s basement, in between shots of Mountain Dew and down time from Halo. Mars? Really? Wait. Now where is she? AND WHY THEY HELL IS THAT GUY BEING HELD UP BY A CHAIN? Then he gives her the Heart of the Ocean, I guess. What an idiot. He makes Taylor Lautner look positively Ivy League. Anyway…
Everyone give your nose a good pinch and say it with me. Ooh baby baby!
Catching Up on the Writering
So Kate Gosselin is “freaking out “ over her show being cancelled.
I really don’t care. I just couldn’t come up with an intro.
Although, seriously? She’s upset because her career has been derailed? Watch the video. It’s amazing how much she sounds like…well, like Kate Gosselin. Woman’s nuttier than a can of almonds.
It’s been some time since life has allowed me the time and energy to focus on writing, as well as the myriad other projects I want to work on. Now that I’ve left my post at The Corner Bookstore, I’m going to dive headlong into the wordy pool and see what comes of it. The primary objective right now is to finish Book 1 in The Storyteller series, which is tentatively called The Heart of Darkness. I should, all things being equal, complete that manuscript some time in October (preferably before I head to Richmond, Va for The James River Writers Confererence).
As I manage that daunting task, I mean to pick up the pieces of the abandoned Bookstore series of videos (newest one below) and continue building a platform with which to turn my bizzaro experiences as a bookseller into a television pilot. Think Arrested Development meets The Office and you’ll get a decent idea. Something that allows for a good bit of insanity but is more character driven than built around the location. I hope to have a new video up every Wednesday.
Additionally, I’ll have a few posts to add to The Adventures of Ducky Thomas, including his long overdue story of traveling to New York City. That post, for what it’s worth will be called The Massive Warship, and has an awful lot to do with his visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The hope with Ducky is to translate his adventures into chapter books. I think the world needs stories about an adventurous duck. Ducky agrees.
Now that Flutter is out and selling, I will be returning again to the world of Timothy Webb and telling what may, or may not, be the final book in that series. I’m rather fond of Timothy and Natasha, so I may violate ever known rule of writing just to hang on to them. In the meantime, if you haven’t already, The Christ Corporation Series has a Facebook page. Like it. I’ll be posting updates there.
Finally, staring me in the face with the depth and deadness of a salivating zombie is a story that takes the traditional Zombie Apocalypse for rocking ride where it’s never been before. Not sure yet if I want to write the novel or the screenplay, but as I have information to offer, I’ll be tossing it up here on the blog.
…of which I will be visiting more often. Obviously, right?
So with nothing in my way but myself, all of these projects will be complete or underway within the next six months. I’m piling it on and looking forward to what comes of it.
Oh, and in the near future I’ll be looking for you to determine what absolutely ridiculous show I show blog about on a regular basis. That one is wide open. Anything from Springer to Gossip Girl, from The View to 90210. It’s not my call. It’s yours. I’m not sure who I hope to entertain more with that, but I’m quite positive it will be me.
That said, here’s the latest in The Bookstore series, called Potter is Hotter. Time to decide between Cullen and Potter. And pretty dresses.
Offering a Word to the ‘Smiths.
On March 2nd, 2009, the first few whispers reached the blogs that Wordsmiths Books was closed. No big farewell, no sell-down to a final closing date, nothing more than a note in the window baring a simple message:
I’ve pondered how to start this, but this is the best I can come up with. There is no great way to begin the end of a dream, and there is no gentle way to state that finality is upon you. That said, I regret to announce that, as of Monday, March 2nd, 2009, Wordsmiths Books will close its doors for good. I don’t do this willingly, and I would love to say that there were avenues of exploration yet to wander, possibilities that could avert this outcome, but that would be untruthful. I have explored every possibility open to me, but the sheer magnitude of the decline in sales alone (on the heels of our efforts to right the boat) from our current economic downturn has long since evaporated the fumes. Frankly put, there’s nothing left to make the engine go, and sitting on the side of the road with a thumb out doesn’t seem to earn you much grace as a business…
It’s been two years since I walked away from that store, and it still feels like a lost loved one. Sure, pieces of it remain. I have the wonderful family of booksellers who worked for me, who remain in contact still; there are reminders fairly frequently from our customers who miss our events; there’s the clever little ghost that houses itself in Foursquare’s platform (I don’t know who did it, but thanks, and everyone else, do feel free to check in when your on the Square); and, of course, there exists a mountain of photos that remind me daily of the days spent toiling for my dream.
- Photos Like This
It’s a mixture of sadness, and gratitude. A blend of emptiness and completion. I look at those pictures, and I wish Wordsmiths Books was still there, and I wish my family was still intact, and yet, we’ve all moved on to bigger and better things. It has often struck me that we were brought together for a reason, and for a short time were allowed to share in this experience and carry it forward. Then again, that could just be me. I couldn’t have been blessed with a better group of people to spend my time with, and I remain thankful every day that they were in my life. I’ve spent the past few days on Facebook thanking each of them individually, and I still feel I haven’t done it justice.
There are scores of others who were involved, in one way or another, with Wordsmiths, and I know that any attempt to thank them all would be futile, due to the fact that I am purely incapable of remembering what I had for breakfast, much less such a lengthy list of names. So, naturally, I’ll do it any way, with apologies to anyone I forget. To Collin Kelley (for his fab poetry events), Laurel Snyder (finalist for the E.B White Read Aloud Award!!!!), Wayne Fishell & Big Peaches (who gave us our soul Debby Harry style), Julia Carrol & Amy Lashley (for being the best cheerleaders/folk duo we could have asked for), Chris Warner (for his awesome sign), David L. Robbins (for his many contributions that stand as tall as he is, as well as for being a loyal and dedicated friend), Jim & Jessie Mundy (for the signed, framed, Wordsmiths Bag, from opening night), to The Georgia Center for the Book (for your support and trust), to Jennifer Brett (for your unbiased, fact-based story on the store’s closing), and to the many, many people who shopped our store, attended our events, and extended their hand when we called out for help, thank you. There is no measure of words that truly sums up my gratitude.
If you’re up for browsing through it, here’s the original blog for Wordsmiths, during the 6-month run-up to the opening in June 2007.
It wasn’t ever easy, but when is owning a business ever? I made mistakes in the process of opening that eventually haunted the store. I made the decision in August 2008 to ask the public for help, for a business that had not even been open two years, and scores of people responded. It was an emotional time, and to this day I still get choked up thinking about the overwhelming support we received. The link to the blog above, the one detailing the store’s closing, is littered with comments that I didn’t read until last year’s anniversary that detail the belief that I did this knowing that the store was going to close (an opinion shared my by ex-mother-in-law, I regretfully recall now. Joy, there.). That I willingly, and deceitfully, took money in order to simply buy me time. There’s no point in arguing with fools, but I would like to say that I do not quit on anything unless it is beaten and dead (and even then I do it reluctantly), and I do not look someone in the eye and willingly lie in order to spare myself. Wordsmiths was not dead (beaten maybe) until the economy bottomed out in October of that same year. At that point we were turning in the right direction, slowly, like a ship turning against the storm. But when people stopped shopping (in general) and put a cap on Christmas for 2008, we were toast. And we weren’t alone. Closing Wordsmiths remains one of the hardest things I have ever done. Saying goodbye to my family was excruciating. The image of walking away, turning the key one last time, and driving off (albeit in a very beautiful snowfall that I will always link with a sign of cleansing, and a new beginning) is forever imprinted on my mind. The fact that the year following left me in a state of financial hardship like I’ve never known, had me contemplating my life’s choices, and ultimately contributed to the end of a marriage, does nothing at all to reduce the power and wonder of the Wordsmiths experience. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
And maybe someday, I will.
Wordsmiths Books was nearly everything I dreamed it to be, and I still believe that it lives and breathes in the memories of those who shared in it. And on March 2nd of every year that I am blessed enough to live, I will raise a glass to its memory, to all that it offered me, and salute. R.I.P to my little bookstore child.
Tweeting the Quack
This is actually a post from the Southern Authors Blog, A Good Blog is Hard to Find, but I would be doing it a great disservice if I didn’t post it everywhere, so, here it is. May your day be filled with the glory of my brilliance.
And stuff.
——-
This is a duck. His name is Ducky Thomas. He is a duck named Thomas.
He’s stuffed full of cute, loves adventures, and is quite convinced that the world is the most fantastic thing a duck could ever hope for. He also loves the cat who loves him most.
This is a video about a bookstore. It has nothing to do with ducks–not yet anyway I guess I must admit–but does indeed have a lot to do with the point.
They both have something in common. They have nothing directly to do with the books I write, but have everything to do with me as a writer. They are independent of what is published, but a vital cog in the publicity of who I am. And they aren’t the end or the beginning. They are the journey.
There. I’ve waxed poetic. Now I can get on with the point.
We all know about Twitter. If you have the time and patience, you can gather a following, make a name for yourself, your opinions, and your work. The same can be said for Facebook, albeit in a more centralized, and long-term kind of way. You’re going to make your friends, have your followers, talk about anything from The Simpsons and their obvious lack of relevance to Obama and his quest for health care. You’ll be “liked”, have the “@” symbol thrown your way, tagged, or even re-posted/re-tweeted. People will laugh with you, at you, talk about why your opinion is pointless and not at all as potent as what they have to say, and send messages to one another about whatever it is you posted last. Above all, they will know you as a writer, and understand you as a person in ways readers never could before, and they will look forward to what you have to post next.
But they are merely one step toward lifting you, as a writer, into the conversations of the world.
We live in a digital age. One in which communication is almost entirely of the written word. We view Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Foursquare, Plancast, Tumbler, and so on as pure facets of publicity, meant to broaden our audience and stamp a nice, fancy, little brand upon our heads. All of which is most certainly true. But it’s not the mere existence of our digital selves on these sites that makes full embrace of what they offer us. It’s what we write. It’s how we use them. It’s taking the blank slate and filling it with content that both evolves who we are as writers, and demonstrates fully what we can do with the words we are blessed with. True, starting a blog and writing about anything–anything at all–is exactly the right approach. But it isn’t the endpoint.
When I first started blogging, I didn’t intend on writing about the adventures of a stuffed duck, and I had no plans to begin at first a blog, and then a series of videos about life in a bookstore. But the more I worked through my personal blog, the more I came to see each entry as a script of my life–pages of the mind fluttering from the inner sanctum of thought to the public forum offered to me. Each entry was another showcase of what I could offer. In a very real sense, each time I posted a blog, I was adding to my resume. Obviously, it is every writer’s great hope that each book that is published will further enhance the aura and legacy of who they are (read in: you will become instantly uber-famous, and own two castles in a decade). But it doesn’t have to end there any more. In fact, the sheer number of books that are being published by extension of the popularity of a blog speak volumes to the time in which we live. Used to be that you had to find a press to print your article, or a series of collected works in which to be included in order to broaden the scope of your work. Now you have the internet, and whatever time you offer it. Work it all in unison and not only do people start to pay attention–no matter how small your collective–but they start to anticipate what’s to come. Then that audience can grow as people share what you have to offer–which is far less work than what you will put into creating it, given that the sharing aspect of it is usually accommodated by the gratifying click of a button.
It’s so very cliche, but the truth is, you never know who is watching, who is reading, who will share what you have to say, who is paying attention to as you scream from every corner of the internet you can crawl from, “HEY! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!” So, go. Do. Find your inner duck. And make every word count. Your future readers will take note.
A ducking good time
This is a guest post from Ducky Thomas®, duck extraordinaire. He likes to have adventures, loves even more so to talk about them, and hopes that, some day, he will be able to fly around the world all by himself. He’s a very excitable duck, so try to keep up.
Hi everybody! It’s hard to believe that it’s been two weeks since I wrote about going to the Richmond, but golly, time sure has, as Zach likes to say, ‘flown by.’ He says that some day I’ll be able to fly as fast as time, but I just don’t know. So far I can only fly off the bed, and I don’t make it very far. Most times, I just kind of fall. But I’m pretty sure that the last time I tried, I fell a lot slower! Maybe it won’t be too long now, and I’ll just be zooming all over the place!
Ha ha, Quack!
Sorry, I got a little carried away.
Well, anyway, I may not be able to fly just yet, but I have been very busy making new friends, and also going to something Zach called a, “Fall Festavil,” which I thought would be a very good place for a duck trying to learn how to fly to go to. It was in a great big park, with trees, and grass, and a playground too (but only the Big Ducks get to play there, Zach said, which made me sad, but I guess someday I’ll be a Big Duck, and then I can play all day long!), but not really too many places where a duck could learn to fly. It appeared, though, that by the time we got there, most of the people had already fallen, because they were all sitting on the grass listening to music. I don’t know what the music was, but I’m pretty sure it made everyone feel better about falling, because they all seemed pretty happy.
Oh! But I forgot to tell you the super duper best part! I got to go with my new friend, Henrietta! She’s a hippo, a really fun, and neat hippo, and pretty much my best friend in the whole wide world!
Henrietta and I got to ride together to the park. She sure is a silly hippo!
At first I wanted her to go, but I couldn’t find her anywhere, and I got really upset. But then, wouldn’t you know? That silly little hippo had asked Zach to hide her in our traveling bag as a really neat surprise, and I was so excited when I got there that I quacked for about five minutes! Boy was that embarrassing!
We didn’t go to the park right away, and had to wait in the car while Zach, and his friend Katie (boy she sure is quite pretty, but I’m too shy to tell her!), went to an ATM, I think, where he says all the money is kept, which I don’t know…it seemed kind of small. I guess money isn’t that big. Well, while we were waiting, Henrietta kept telling me that it would be really funny if I drove us away while Zach and Katie were gone, which seemed a little crazy to me, but she kept giggling so much that I started giggling too, and then, before I knew it, I had crawled out the bag and was pretending to drive! And let me tell you, it’s a lot harder to do than I thought!
VROOM VROOM!
I don't know what this thing is, but it sometimes makes the car bounce.
I couldn’t make the car go, but, honest as I can be, I didn’t want to. I like making Henrietta laugh, and boy did she, but I was more than ready to get back in the traveling bag and get the park, so I could fall with everyone. And, sure enough, we arrived just a few minutes later–though I guess it could have been longer, I don’t know. Henrietta snorted when I got back in the bag, because she said I made a really funny face, and then I quacked for so long that I don’t really know how much time passed. But it was so funny!
Well, as I said before, everyone had already fallen when we got there, and I didn’t see any other people falling, although there were some children playing with sticks, and one of them seemed to be really curious to me. I mean, I know I’m just a duck, but he sure danced silly with that stick. Zach said he looked like a Jedi with parking son’s disease. I don’t know what that is, but, as I said, I don’t know how to drive.
Anyway, the boy went away, and just in time too! Zach and Katie had food, and Henrietta and I got to try some! The first thing we tried was a hamburger, but I think it wasn’t made too good, because it didn’t taste like ham at all.
It tasted like ketchup.
But the really best thing we tried, that was so super good, I thought I really was going to fly. It was called a funner cake, and even though it didn’t look much like a cake at all, it sure was fun! It had some kind of white, powdery stuff on it–I think that was the funner part!–that made my head feel all happy, and caused Henrietta to snort for three straight minutes! I thought my beak was gonna explode from quacking so hard!
IT WAS SOOO GOOD!
After a while, it was time to go, which was okay with Henrietta and me because we were ready for a nap. And even though Henrietta and I aren’t Big enough to go to the playground, we did get to sit together on a bench for a little bit, and watch the other kids. I tell you, it sure looks like a lot of fun.
Henrietta is a super neat hippo.
It sure was a lot of fun, but boy was I tired. I was really happy that Henrietta got to go too, and that I got to eat some yummy food, and even though I didn’t fall at the park, I sure did when I got home!
This was the best fall I've ever made!
Ducky Thomas Goes to Richmond
This is Ducky Thomas:
This is Ducky Thomas. He is a duck named Thomas.
Recently, Ducky Thomas had an adventure. He went to Richmond, Virginia on a trip. It wasn’t the grandest of trips, but it was exciting all the same. He went on this journey with me, as I took to the town as a speaker at the James River Writers Conference. Unfortunately, however, he did not attend the conference, as it cost quite a bit of money to pay the way for an attendee, and, well, ducks are just not allowed in the library. So, while I was away, he manned—er, ducked–the hotel room where he…well, I suppose I should let his words speak for themself:
“I’ve never gone on a trip before. For that matter, I’ve never gone anywhere before. Before this weekend, I had only been out of the bedroom, where I stay, just once to sit on Zach’s desk. He said he wanted to take my picture, which was okay with me, but ducks aren’t much on make-up, and don’t often pose for pictures, so I was a bit nervous about it all. And that was just for a picture! Imagine how I felt when he asked me if I wanted to go to Richmond! ‘Golly!’ I had exclaimed. ‘I don’t even know what a Richmond is, but I sure do want to see it!’ So, sure enough, he told me I could go, and went to something called, ‘Target’–which I believe is not far away, but must be a magical place, seeing as how he returned quickly with a wonderful black traveling house with wheels for me to ride in. Who knew there were such things in the world! It had plenty of room for me to rest comfortably, and I was able to keep all of Zach’s belongings safe during the trip–though I do have to admit that the darkness made me sleepy, and aside from some bumpy moments, I slept quite a lot. Fortunately, no one tried to open the house, and before I knew it, Zach was opening the door and I opened my sleepy eyes to see something amazing! It was a brand new place, much bigger than the bedroom I’m usually in! And, it had a really big window that let me see one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen! Ever ever!
This is what a Richmond looks like!
There were lots of what Zach called, 'outtomobeels.' That's the rolling things over there!
Whoa. Richmond.
Well, boy, was I excited! I just sat in that window ALL day long! And when it got dark, everything got all sprinkled in little lights everywhere. It sure was incredible! Zach was gone most of the time, where he said he was spending time with the Righter people, who like to talk about the Righter things. Apparently, Zach knows something of this Righting, because he was very excited about all that he had done while he was there. He was almost as excited as I was about seeing the Richmond all day! Well, anyway, he told me that he sat on a panel about religion, which does sound kind of unpleasant, and maybe a little painful, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all, so I guess it’s not that bad. I listened as he talked about his adventures that day, and then the next day too. He spent an awful lot of time with the Righters, where they talked about the Right way to do things, I suppose. It’s good that people try to be Right, I’ve been told, so it’s even better that they have conferences to discuss it. Zach said that the people there liked him so much that they bought all of the books that were for sale! Yay for Zach! He said that there were more panels that he sat on (I still don’t know why he sat on them, but, I’m just a duck, and will not understand, I guess). There was one on Fan Tah See, which is, according to Zach, about make-believe stuff that is in stories, and sometimes has dragons, magic, and shallow vampire characters that only little girls like. And then there was the one on Die A Log, which is a funny name to me. I mean, from what I could tell from my perch over the Richmond, it seems to me that logs–which I know from a television show that I watched with Zach, come from trees–are very pretty, and very helpful to things. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill one. But Zach made it sound kind of delightful, and said that the Righter people asked a lot of really neat questions about Die A Log that he, and two other Righters by the names of David L. Robbins, and Lauren Oliver, answered. I don’t know them, but they sound neat!
Well, he just seemed to really enjoy his time, which was wonderful to hear, because I was beginning to worry that I might be having too much fun looking at the Richmond–more fun than Zach–and that made me feel bad. I didn’t want Zach to miss out on the fun, either. He did sit with me for a while watching the sun rise one morning, which was really neat! I had never seen that before either! I was glad he got to see it too, though he had to leave before I could tell him that. But I think he already knew. So, I guess that was pretty much it, after that. Zach said he met lots of new people, and that there was something funny about something he said the Righters called a, ‘humanzee.’ I don’t know what that is, but as I’ve said, I’m a duck, and I don’t really know too much about things. Zach told me, as he was putting me back in the black, boxy house, with wheels that he hoped that he could keep in contact with his new friends, and that some of them were really nice, and pretty good Righters that needed to simply believe in themselves a bit more. I liked the way that sounded, and so I just smiled at Zach, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. The next thing I knew, we were home again.
I don’t have to stay in the bedroom anymore. Now I get to spend time on Zach’s desk while he does his Righting. It makes me happy. But not as happy as knowing that Zach has promised to take me to other new places too! I can’t wait!
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It's a big world for such a small duck.
I Have a Wrong Way to Go (until I find the right one) 