One in Monster Years

 

It isn’t easy raising a monster, with its sharp, little teeth, monstrous messes, insatiable food consumption and the grunts, groans and emission of various other guttural sounds left to translation by the Monster Keepers.

That’s why , when a monster turns one, the milestone is marked with a felicitous celebration.  The successful passage of one entire monster year is a true credit to all involved. 

Miles the Monster’s “felicitous celebration” included water time with his Monster Keepers.  Since the Loch Ness Monster is, no doubt, a distant relative, it was no surprise he enjoyed wetting his gills.

 

He received new chew toys, ideal for spearing with his pointy new teeth,

 and a few chains to rattle, in true monster fashion.

(You may question the Monster Keepers’ logic in bequeathing these seemingly feminine accessories on their very male Monster child, and well you might.  However, the very male Monster child is not to blame—his love of all things shiny comes from his Girl Monster Keeper.  And she would like to keep hers shiny—in the closet, far out of reach…)

A feast was held in his honor,

    featuring foods that he could really sink his teeth into.

The Monster Keepers are fairly certain he unintelligible babble, “various other guttural sounds” and gibberish transmitted, were of a happy nature. 

That’s the way they like to keep their little monster.

Happy One Year, Miles!

                  

The Office

Quotes of the Week

"Who's been saying that there's another person inside of me, working me with controls?"

--Kevin

"You're gonna regret that when you find yourself between a moose and her cubs at night."

-Jim

"Stanley's way past the middle of his life. Especially considering his height to weight ratio."

--Dwight

"People tell me things. I guess I have a face you can trust. I think it's because of my low cheekbones."

--Dwight

The End: An Overstatement of an Understatement…read me?

Imagine yourself brought before a teeming pile of words, swarming with spelling errors, misplaced modifiers and dangling participles.

Oh, the dangling!

Oh, the tangled mass, the crippled bits of derailed Trains of Thought.

Oh, the grammarian’s torment!!

Some may roll their eyes and stride away from the jumble. Some may, with disgusted sneers, kick the pile, sending words skidding across the pavement. Others may pick curiously through the pile.

Me?

I’m going to stand back and, with triumphal achievement, admire the colossal pile. Then, I’m going to get a running start and dive headfirst into the heap of haggard words and sentences, broken phrasing and grammatical errors crying out for relief from dangling and disarray.

I choose this approach because that pile is my finished novel.

Raw, unedited and tender, but finished.

And all 220, 083 words—that’s right, I said two hundred twenty thousand, eighty three words—are MINE!!

They were born, screaming in my head, while lying awake at night or driving, doing the dishes, walking from Point A to Point B. They drew their first breath as I pondered plot and experienced schizophrenic moments as people talked in my head.

My little words grew up on paper and left me homesick for the people they became.

It’s really cool.

So now, with a little (lot of )edit here and a little (lot of) edit there, a trim, a shave, a good scrubbing, they’ll become my very first black and white masterpiece.

Ahhhh…….

Favorite thoughts on writing:

If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.

-Toni Morrison

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. -Vladimir Nabakov

Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.

-Gene Fowler

If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.

-Lord Byron

The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.

-Mark Twain

The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it.

-Jules Renard,

Hood in the Wood

Robin Hood

 

and his mighty band of  Merry Men, being the family men they are,

packed up their Maids Marian

and the Hoodlets

and stealthily stole to their forest hideout for intense Hood-related training and domestications.

Strength training, as first item on the scrolled, leather agenda,  was carried out through a muscle-straining game of He-Man Croquet. 

The woods were strewn with shattered fragments of bowling balls, sacrificed for the greater good of the rising Hoodlet generation.

Speed and accuracy were measured as arrows employed wings,

pool cues jabbed,

and horseshoes fell from the sky…

because you never know when an opponent might challenge with a game of horseshoes.

The wee ones were instructed in the most basic, albeit essential, woodland skills, such as

how to wield Forest Weaponry,

(some of the Merry Men needing a refresher course),

intimidation techniques to fend off villains and imposters,

floral selection for future betrothed,

woodland creature identification,

(like badgers who attempt breaking and entering),

the virtues of Patience and long-suffering,

how to treat your mother,

and flying  through he woods,

though jumping into trees is an advanced skill set, intended only for the boys of the Hood family.

                 

The acute focus on deftness and technique was balanced nicely with nights ringing with music,

rest and relaxation,

  

 

forest excursions,

and general togetherness.

                            

            

Though, in hindsight, I think the Hood training may have been TOO successful…