Misplaced Hero - Episode 23

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

 

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 23 - Lady Featherdale Gives Evidence

"PEOPLE WHO KNOW nothing always say the most," said Rozinshura.  He leaned on the bar and looked over his notes, then looked up at Lady Featherdale, and the valet, whose name was Evans.  "You two have said nothing, so you must know everything."

"We've been busy," protested Lady Featherdale.

"Pouring bad brandy into the good bottles," said Rozinshura.

"No one noticed the difference," she replied, exchanging a guilty look with Evans.  "And I'm sure you have a better use for such good brandy!"

"I think you are Awarshi," said Rozinshura.  "I should call you kinchin."

"Thank you.  Might I ask, what does kinchin mean, exactly?"

"It means cousin.  Everything is family in Awarshawa.  Is why we fight so much."

Rozinshura smiled and made his way around the bar to speak with them more privately.  He settled on a stool and got down to business:

"I am told that you two rescued the ambassador."

"We can hardly take credit for that, sir," said Evans.  "We simply dragged him along when we escaped."

"Do you think the bandits were there to kidnap him?"

"I've no idea," said Lady Featherdale. "But they were looking for specific people.  They had a list."

"I heard them ask for the baroness," added Evans.

"That's right," said the lady.  "That's when poor Miss Vilthrop stood up.  She answered them as if she were the baroness, and that distracted them.  We would not have escaped if it hadn't been for her."

Rozinshura flipped some pages on his notes.  "Miss Vilthrop is the paid companion of Lady Blinkersley?"

"Yes, and normally she's such a quiet, sheltered little mouse," said Lady Featherdale.  "Who knew what fortitude she had inside?"

"The baronessa...is she a diplomat too? Perhaps she carries secrets?"

"Hardly! She's just a wild young twit with scads of money," said Lady Featherdale.  "She wasn't even supposed to be on the train.  She'd run off with some dance instructor. Her cousins tracked her down, and Lord Blinkersley volunteered to bring them back. I expect that the bandits wanted her for the ransom."

"But she wasn't supposed to be there.  How did the bandits know?"

"Gossip, I suppose."

Gossip, or spies, thought Rozinshura.  Was there a difference?  Opportunists trade in such information.

At this point the blootchkes arrived, and Evans stepped out to snag a plate from the roving waiter.  Rozinshura looked at his notes for a moment.

This story seemed to account for Miss Vilthrop and the baroness: they were taken by the bandits. But there were still two men unaccounted for.  Winslow Argoss and Charles Emmett -- both diplomatic undersecretaries. One old, one young.  A professor and a student?  A drunk and a spy?

"Did you see if Mr. Argoss and Mr. Emmett were taken by the bandits as well?"

"I didn't see it, but they were at the other end of the car with the baroness."  Lady Featherdale looked at Evans, who nodded in agreement.

"Do you know Winslow Argoss?"

"Not as well as Lord Blinkersley does," said Lady Featherdale.

"I spoke to him..."

"And he wouldn't talk?"

"I think my questions were too indiscrete," said Rozinshura.

"Goodness, what were they?"

"Did Argoss carry secret documents, would he be drunk, and would he give a false name?"

"And his lordship said 'None of your beeswax!'" said Lady Featherdale.  "Well, I wouldn't know about the secrets or false names, but Winston Argoss would never be drunk.  He's teetotal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure.  Why are you asking?"

Rozinshura took a deep breath

"We ... have a drunken man who has no papers.  We should arrest him, but I think he is from the wreck, and he fits the description of Mr. Argoss."

"I see," said Lady Featherdale with growing concern.  "He's an old man.  Are you sure he's not just in shock?"

"If he is in shock, he is assuredly also drunk."

"That doesn't sound like Argoss."

"There is nobody else it could be," said Rozinshura.  "Lady Featherdale, would you to look at him and say if you know him?"

"Gladly," she said, so he pulled himself to his feet and led the way to the kitchen....

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Twenty-Four: "Action in the Alcove"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Sun Update - and Coming Attractions

A Round of Words in 80 Days Meets The Clarion Write-a-Thon

I managed to mostly not get further behind on my goals, in spite of two other things competing for my attention.  Well three.

Concept sketch for Wed Writing posts

One is Day Job: Summer semester moves along at double time, but it seems slow and lazy, so... this is the time of semester where everybody suddenly wakes up and says "Oh shit! The semester's almost over and I've got all this STUFF to do!"

Second is Other Fiction: I got a poke from Karla that book three of the Man Who series would be a good place to bring in George's ex-wife.  (George has an ex-wife?  Of course! The guy is wealthy, he does housework and has a neurotic compulsion to take care of things, but no sense of proportion, and he's a sucker for a damsel in distress.  Can you imagine that this man doesn't have a trail of ex-wives?  He swears only one was acquired while sober and of age, however.)  But first I have to write the second book....

Third is Gearing Up for Fall: As with the day job, the time is coming nigh to start putting my plans for fall in order.  Getting organized. Setting up to do various projects. Thinking about the Next Thing down the line.

As you see to the right, I even started working on a logo for my Wednesday writing posts.  I'll probably end up doing the figure in illustrator.  I may add an army of marching cats to the image as well. I may do a variation with the motto "Minding My Business" -- as doing good work and minding one's business is more or less the theme of the writing posts around here.

Also I finally found all my notes and sketches for the Miss Leech and The Yard comic strip. There WILL be cartoons on the blog this fall.  It's a comic strip I did in college, which was a take on a Miss Marple-esque detective from the point of view of the poor put upon inspector she is always besting.

In spite of these distractions, I did manage to keep up with my goals:


Wednesday Day 17 - published the ep and did the art
Thursday Day 18 - Ep 24 (book version)
Friday Day 19 - Ep 23 (book version)
Saturday Day 20 - Finished the blog version of both 23 and 24 -- to be posted this week.



This Week's Upcoming Posts

Monday: Episode 23 - "Lady Featherdale Gives Evidence"
Yes, I'm sorry to say that you are going to have to wait until Thursday to find out what Alex plans to do about the sexual harassment going on in the kitchen alcove.  On Monday you, and Rozinshura, will learn a little more about the mystery surrounding that bit of paper, and how the train wreck might tie into it.

Wednesday: Blurbs and Pitches
Dean Wesley Smith wrote a post last week about how important blurbs are (in a nutshell: very). This has inspired me to blog about issues in rewriting some of my own blurbs for my most difficult books.  This week I'll talk about one approach to redoing the short pitch for The Wife of Freedom.

Thursday: Episode 24 - "Action in the Alcove"
Alex attempts to help The Girl, but things don't go quite like he planned.

On Sunday, of course, we'll have another major update post, and previews to next week.

See you in the funny papers.

Misplaced Hero - Episode 22

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

 

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 22 - Alex Plots a Counter Coup

THE GUARDS WERE armed not only with rifles and bayonets -- which they had leaning against the wall near their table -- but also pistols.  Pookiterin had a pistol and a sword too.  And Niko had a kitchen full of knives.  None of them were on alert, but Alex did not see himself getting the drop on one of them, and holding the rest at bay while he woke up Thorny, and got him out of there.

Sneaking would be better.  Get the door unlocked, distract people, find some excuse to get Niko out of the room.  In the end it was Niko who actually gave form to the plan when he sent Alex to the cellar to get some wine for the guards.

"Rozinshura says to keep them happy," he said of the guards.

So when Alex found a box of medical supplies next to the wine, he got the idea to make the guards very happy.

But there were no sleeping pills or pain killers, just things for stomach ailments and laxatives.  The laxatives might be an amusing way to get the guards out of the room, but it said they took overnight to take effect.

There was a little bottle of ipecac syrup -- which would induce vomiting in case of poisoning and undoubtedly worked fast.  But if everybody started throwing up, it would be obvious they'd been poisoned.  Heck, even a sleep drug might make them suspicious enough to call an alarm.

But if you are drinking you expect to get tipsy.  And people who are drunk never seem to realize exactly how drunk they are.

Alex stuck the little bottle of ipecac in his pocket as a back up, and went and hunted down a bottle of clear hard liquor.

When he got back to the kitchen, he spiked the wine with a little of the liquor.  The security men did not complain, so he spiked it with more, and they got happier and happier.

Pookiterin glared at him any time he approached, even when he held up the wine bottle.  Still, the colonel wasn't paying attention to the kitchen, so Alex might sneak Thorny out behind his back.  How could he get Niko out?  That was the question.

He pondered that as he helped roll up the blootchkes -- which turned out to be little burrito-shaped crepes, filled with a variety of sweet and savory fillings. It was getting dark by the time they were done. Alex stretched and rubbed his back like it was sore, and put on a pained expression.

"Say, Niko, would you mind delivering this bunch? I'm wearing out."

"Take these up front and rest there," said Niko, without even looking up to see Alex's performance as an invalid. But then he leaned closer and added. "I can't go, I must watch them."

Well, the guards weren't quite drunk enough anyway.  Alex refilled their glasses, and went to deliver the blootchkes. He ducked Rozinshura without much trouble, and that gave him an idea: When he got back he'd see if the guards were drunk enough, and if so, he'd tell Niko that the captain wanted him.  Then he'd take the guards' guns, hold Pookiterin hostage, and get the girl to help get Thorny out of the larder.

When he got back to the kitchen, the lamps had been turned down, and the guards were dozing ... but there was tension.  Niko was in the corner, muttering darkly and shooting angry glances at the alcove.

In the alcove, the colonel had removed his sword belt and jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt a little.  He hovered over the girl, much closer than before.  He reached over and touched her face.  She sat like a stone.

Alex set down his tray and fingered the ipecac in his pocket.

"Do you think the colonel wants some wine?" he said.

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Twenty-Three: "Lady Featherdale Gives Evidence"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Juggling Multiple Visions -- Wed Update

(ROW80 and Clarion Writeathon update at bottom of post.)

Struggling with multiple visions of the story is a common writer's problem. You've got all these ideas. Some are mutually exclusive.  Every choice you make, you cut off an option.

I really honestly thought doing the tight serial version of the story and then relaxing into a more leisurely book version would be a writer's dream come true.  I'm not stuck with just one choice! I can do two!

It's not turning out that way, unfortunately.

What I'm finding is that, even though the blog version is deadline driven (and therefore far from perfect or polished), my writer brain is adapting to the format, and I'm getting the stuff that I want into these tighter and smaller packages.  And as a result, the posted version is, more and more often, coming out better than the book version.

And I don't often see places I want to expand. I want to do some work on the prose, make things clearer, improve the timing, but other than a few outtakes I want to restore, not make it longer. Not give it more atmosphere.

I think this is happening partly because of the deadlines.  The thing about deadlines is that they produce pressure to Get It Right Now.

Self-imposed deadlines do not do this.  For instance, the fact that I have rewriting the episodes for the book version as a part of this dare doesn't help even the tiniest bit: You folks aren't going to see that version tomorrow, so the fact that one part is a little too fuzzy, or I haven't found the "direction" of the scene, doesn't matter.  My brain is tired, the piece is whole and makes sense, I'm done.

But when you have a publication deadline, somebody's going to read that story the next day. It can't be just a waste of the reader's time.  The core meaning of the scene, the dynamics involved, all that matters, and you've got to get it right now, before the book is done.

However, I do find that writing the "book version" first is helping me with the posted version -- it's a looser rough draft.  I'll need to do that book in a third draft - and maybe then (especially if I do it on a break between serials) I'll be able to get into a more leisurely voice and expand it more.

But even if not, I think it will be an improved version.  For all that they make me focus, the deadlines really do force me to make some compromises.  It's just that some become a springboard for something new.

See you in the funny papers.

Progress tally for "A Round of Words in 80 Days Meets The Clarion Write-a-Thon"

Sunday Day 14 - art and editing
Monday Day 15 - Book version of Ep 22.
Tuesday Day 16 - Ep 22 (to be posted Thursday)

While I get more and more behind (now 6 days behind for the Aug 4 Clarion deadline) I am also getting more and more ahead.   I've been doing a lot of partial drafts for upcoming episodes.  Also, a few other stories are cropping up.

My main disappointment, though is the art.  Definitely getting in a rut, but this may due to the fact that I am doing most of the art at the last second just now.

Misplaced Hero - Episode 21

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 21 - The Coup in the Kitchen

NO NEED TO panic yet.  Niko knew Alex's name, but he didn't know anyone was looking for him, and he was too busy to care, right?

Niko went across the kitchen and unlocked a door to one of the larders.  It was an L-shaped room, but Alex could see, against the far wall, a bench with a bundle on it. He leaned to get a better look.  He caught a glimpse of wild, damp gray hair.

It was Thorny.  He was asleep on a bench with a blanket over him

Niko touched a finger to his lips to indicate they should not disturb his sleep, and then picked up large basket of eggs, and handed it to Alex.

"Who is that?" asked Alex.

"He is drunk," whispered the cook.  He paused to tuck a bottle under his arm and pick up a large crock of something.  "He is sleeping it away."

Niko herded Alex out of the room, and set down the crock to lock the door back up.

"But why is he locked up?"

"Rozinshura does not want him to talk to Pookiterin."

"Who's Pookiterin?"

Before he could answer, there was the sound of boots in the hall.  Then in walked security officer from the parlor.  He was a tall, balding man in a fancy gray uniform with medals and braid, and shiny boots. He had a pointy waxed mustache which poked out from his face like a pair of darts.

Niko stood suddenly at attention, and nodded with little jerk that looked formal, like a salute.  Since Alex was hoping to be taken as a soldier, he did the same.

The officer barely acknowledged them.  He surveyed the kitchen from the doorway, and then declared:

"Yes.  This will do."

He stepped across the room and behind him came two soldiers in long gray coats, and the girl. The one from the parlor.  The soldiers gave her a shove.  She sidestepped the shove and managed to keep her dignity as they hurried her across the room.

"I am commandeering your kitchen," said the officer.

"But Kinchin Colonel, we have orders to feed these people," protested Niko.

"You may work on that side, and you may have that table, but we will take the rest.  These tables, the alcove, the pantries," said the colonel, and he turned to Niko with a casual, almost sly look.  "Where are your keys?"

Niko paused, and then put on a look of confusion.  He patted his pockets.

"Oh, Rozinshura took the keys.  He was worried about thieves with so many people here.  But it's all right, everything in here is unlocked except the larder."

The officer glanced at the larder door and then said sharply to Niko, "A cook without keys to the larder?"

"I have everything I need for now. I'm making blootchkes. You like apple?"

The officer, apparently, did not like apple. His eyes narrowed, and he turned to one of his minions.

"Search him."

"That is not necessary," said Niko. "We'll open it!" He put a hand on Alex's shoulder.  With his other hand, out of sight, he slipped something heavy into the pocket of Alex's jacket -- the keys. "Get Rozinshura.  He will bring the keys."

Alex started for the door.

"Never mind!" said the officer, like he was just testing Niko's truthfulness. He retreated to the alcove with the girl. His guards settled at a table in the middle of the kitchen, right in front of the larder.  Niko let out a long, slow breath.

"That is Colonel Pookiterin," he said, and he took up his tub of sour cream and headed for his side of the kitchen.

Alex stood still a moment. The captain was hiding Thorny from the colonel, and the way the colonel backed off... it was like he was avoiding the captain.

Thorny had somehow got himself into the center of a power struggle, it seemed.

But Alex now knew where he was, and where the girl was. He even had the keys.... and two armed, if unwitting, guards and an officer in his way.  Not to mention Niko, who probably wouldn't help. This was going to be interesting.

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Twenty-two: "Alex Plots a Counter Coup"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Day After Bastille Day

A Round of Words in 80 Days Meets The Clarion Write-a-Thon

Wednesday Day 10 - None - got the art and episode posted
Thursday Day 11 - Some new outlining
Friday Day 12 - Jumped ahead to book version of Ep 26
Saturday Day 13 (Bastille Day) -Book version of Ep 23

I think I just have to consider Wednesdays to be a wash in terms of new writing.  Meeting the deadline on the episode post for Thursday is about all I can handle on a work day. Unfortunately, I'm finding that's a problem for Sundays as well, even though I should be able to do better.

I actually did a lot of fragments of other episodes this section too -- I think I'll have a whole batch of episodes ready in a row one of these days.

(See all the ROW80 folks who checked-in today.)

Reader Poll

I'm doing a Reader Poll until the end of July.  It asks just the basic question: are you a new reader (since I started posting the serial in May), and are you following the story, or just the writing posts, or both. Please stop by and gimme some answers!

Thoughts on the Day After Bastille Day

On this day in 1985, I started my writer journal.  It felt like a momentus occasion: I had been accepted into grad school.  I had gone to Clarion in 1982 -- which was the beginning of my writing revolution.  Clarion was, to me, the storming of the Bastille.  It got me started, but it hadn't yet accomplished much.  (As I understand it, the Bastille only had one prisoner in it at the time it was stormed -- and he didn't want to leave.)

That's kind of how it is with your creative life; you have these great exciting, motivating bursts of energy that change everything, and you feel like you've accomplished something. And then you realize that all you've done is strike the spark. And it didn't even catch, and you've still got to build the fire.  You know, the slow, old fashioned way.

More than that, though.  Even when you do accomplish something, there's always more to it, another hill to climb, more ideas than you can possibly handle.

There's a great line in the tacky action movie Under Siege. Tommy Lee Jones, pretending to be a firebrand revolutionary fanatic, says "A revolution gets its name by always coming back around in your face."

It doesn't stop.  Every July 15, I like to pause and look at things, and see how the revolution is never over. It's only just starting. Always.

The day after Bastille Day is the day the real revolution starts.

See you in the funny papers.

Quick Reader Poll

On the Web Fiction Guide forum, someone suggested that ask my readers about various things I'm thinking about doing.

I realized that I don't know enough about you guys to interpret the answers to any poll I make... so I decided to start with a very simple poll to study some of my assumptions and also to set up a baseline:

How many of you are new readers, and are you here for the blog story or for the writing posts or both?

"The story" here refers to the ongoing serial The Case of the Misplaced Hero, which I've been posting Mondays and Thursdays for a couple of months.  "Writing posts" can be interpreted loosely as any of my regular (non-fiction) blog content.  An "old" reader is someone who started reading before May, when I started the serial.

READER POLL:

I realize that the results of this post will be skewed -- I'm not posting a lot of other content over summer, and the serial is too new to have built up a real following.  If nothing else, though, it will be a snapshot of what is happening now.

See you in the funny papers.

Misplaced Hero - Episode 20

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 20 - Not There To Save

THE TRAY WAS piled high with plates, and it would be hard to explore while carrying it, so Alex headed straight for the parlor first.  Deliver the sandwiches, see about the girl.

But there he found Captain Rozinshura blocking the parlor door as he talked to one of the security men.

"I have no place for you, Kinchin Colonel," Rozinshura was saying.  "We are up to our hair in foreigners.  You would be better off in the town."

Crap, thought Alex, if the security guys left, they'd take the girl with them. He had to talk to her now.

Alex tried to push past them, but Rozinshura turned and scowled at him.  Was it the uniform?

"Niko gave me these clothes," he said, quickly.  "I hope it's okay."  He lifted the tray of sandwiches.  "I told him I'd give some sandwiches to the security guys.  Are they still in there?"

"I'll take them," said the Captain, and he picked up a couple plates and returned to his conversation, still blocking the way.

"I need to go in there anyway," said Alex.  "Niko didn't know how many blootchkes to make, so I said I'd count the people."

"Fifty-seven," said the captain.

"In the parlor?"

"In the building.  Go on."  The captain gestured toward the tavern.  "You are not a servant.  You are a guest.  Go sit.  Eat."

"He also wanted to know what kind of blootchkes," said Alex, stalling.  "Apple?  Potato and sour cream, maybe?"

"All of them. Start with what is fastest. He knows this."

Alex had to back off before he made the man too suspicious.

The people in the tavern met him with a chorus of approval.  They grabbed up the sandwiches quickly, and asked for more.  He promised blootchkes, whatever they were. When people asked, he faked an Awarshi accent and said;  "You like! Everybody like blootchkes! You like apple?"

The plates were quickly emptied and he realized that was the perfect excuse: he could go back to the parlor to gather the plates!  He hurried across the hall.

There was no one standing in the doorway now. Alex slipped in.  Rozinshura was there, sitting on a stool with his back to the door, talking to some bedraggled ladies.

But as Alex looked around, he saw no sign of the security men, or the girl.

She was gone.

To some place unknown, just like Thorny.

How had he managed to completely lose them both?  He heard Flavia's voice again.  Not there to save, she said.  So it's not your job.

The hell it isn't! thought Alex.  Besides, Aunt Flavia really had been gone, off to another universe.  This girl... this woman... she was here somewhere.

And so was Thorny.  That was his first responsiblity, wasn't it? And at least he had some idea how to find Thorny.  He could ask Niko.  If he could get guy to talk about something other than food.

Alex was distracted with his thoughts, and almost didn't hear the conversation going on between the ladies and Rozinshura.

"Alex?" said one of the women, in a shrill voice.  "I don't know anyone named Alex."

Alex straightened. Nobody was looking at him.  Rozinshura leaned toward the lady.

"Pehraps I have the name wrong," he said.  "We have a discrepancy in our list. Perhaps someone with a name that sounds like Alex?  He is young.  A student?"

The ladies shook their heads and swore they knew no one on the train whose name was Alex or anything like it.

Alex slipped out into the hall, just out of sight.  He listened, but he couldn't hear much from there.  He headed back for the kitchen.

Thorny must have mentioned his name, and now they were looking for him.  He couldn't remember for sure if he had told Niko his name.  If not, he'd give him an alias.

But when he got to the kitchen, Niko greeted him.  By name.

"Alex!" he said. "Now we make blootchkes.  Come help!"

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Twenty-one: "A Coup In The Kitchen"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Wednesday Update - Tigers, Part Deux

 A Round of Words in 80 Days Meets The Clarion Write-a-Thon

This segment's progress:

Sunday Day 7 - I... don't remember what I did.  Whoops.  I think I did some art, and untangled some upcoming plot mess.
Monday Day 8 - Ep 20 - book version.
Tuesday Day 9 -Ep 21 - book version

I'm doing a sucky job of the rewrite.  Well, not so much that, as I'm not doing what I expected to do.  I expected to "let out the corset" on this, but now that I am into the compressed style of it, I don't feel the need to expand on what I've got. I just edit.  Maybe add a joke or other bit I cut, but mostly not.

Which may be okay, but...I feel like I'm missing an opportunity.

Well, on Monday night, I think I hit on what is wrong.  I need to write the longer, ebook version first.  Then compress for the blog.  Sure, when I compress, I find out great things about what is important in the scene -- but if that happens, it can become a guide to rewriting the long draft. 

Anyway, I'm going to try doing it that way for a while, and only go back to those early chapters after I'm done with these last ones.

Popcorn Tigers, Part Deux, or...

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog

When I came up with the new plan to throw over everything and concentrate on this serial for a while, I didn't think about the subtext.

All of a sudden, my blog is no longer a distraction from my writing!

All you writers out there, I want you to stop and think about that.

I'm no longer taking time away from my writing to deal with my blog.  My blog now is my writing -- the center piece of it.  No guilt. No feeling of being split in a thousand different directions.  Yes, it's work.  There are also no excuses. Writing is like a job now. I gotta show up every day.

As a result... I will be going back to blogging six days a week in the fall.  (Not sure of exact date: I'll probably trickle material back in over summer.)

Here's what I'm thinking of as a blogging schedule:

• Monday: Story Episode
• Tuesday: Cartoon (possibly alternating with other art, jokes, flash fiction or "Story Notes" posts)
• Wednesday: Thinky Writery Stuff (with quick ROW80 Update at bottom).
• Thursday: Story Episode
• Friday: Friday Favorites -- essays about favorite books, movies and such
• Saturday: (off)
• Sunday: "What's Up on the Blog This Week?" (i.e. coming attractions -- what I used to call "review/preview" -- and the main ROW80 update.)

This is probably insane of me, to even think of blogging six days a week, with illustrations and fiction no less!  And at a time when the workload at school is likely to get tough. We had some faculty retirements in a sister-program, and one of my coworkers will probably be called on to pick up the slack there, and so I will probably need to take up some slack for him.

However, I have blogged every single day before, and done my writing challenges too.  It was a major struggle, but it was two separate tasks. With the merging of two tasks into one, it should be doable.  Maybe more doable than before.

In the meantime....

See you in the funny papers.

Misplaced Hero - Episode 19

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 19 - The Importance of Sandwiches

THE KITCHEN WASN'T hard to find.  Alex just had to follow the sound of clattering pans and swearing in Awarshi.

The cook was the only one in the room, and he was having a melt down. He ran this way and that, banging pans, organizing things.  The only sign that Thorny might be around was some wet clothes drying behind the stove.

"Uh, hey," said Alex.

"Go to the front!" called the cook.  "I have no time, I have a hundred people to serve, and they all are magesties!"

"Can I help?" said Alex.  Those were the magic words.  The cook stopped, looked at him, and then suddenly smiled a welcoming smile.

"You can cook?"

"I can work."

Niko, the cook, sent him back to the linen closet to get clean clothes.  By the time he got back, the man had calmed down. He was carefully cutting paper-thin slices of some kind of melon.  He also had a stack of very thin slices of bread.

"In Imperia, noble people like sandwiches, yes?" he said, hopefully.  "Little tiny sandwiches with only butter and a little taste of something.  Yes?"

He waited and Alex realized he was asking his opinion.  "Um, sure," said Alex.

"I make ham, too," said Niko.  "That will keep them until I can make raggoul.  Or blootchkes.  Everybody likes blootchkes!"

He sent Alex to get a stack of plates and a tray, and then together they assembled the sandwiches and cut the crusts off.  Then they cut them into little triangles and diamond shapes.  Alex convinced Niko to add a little mustard to the ham sandwiches.  They piled the sandwiches as artfully as possible on the plates, and piled the plates on a big tray.

As they worked, Alex tried to ease into a conversation, maybe learn what happened to Thorny.  The cook was happy to talk.  As a matter of fact, he talked the whole time -- arguing with himself about what dishes to make.

"Blootchkes with apples, I think.  No no no!  With potatoes and sour cream.  Is that too ordinary?  Maybe not... simple is elegant.  But potatoes are food for workers.  Sour cream with smoked fish!  Do I have any smoked fish...?"

Alex couldn't get a word in edgewise. He figured Niko would calm down once he got his menu in order, though.  In the meantime the sandwiches smelled good.

Suddenly Alex was starving. He hadn't eaten since lunch at the.... at the dorm cafeteria in a completely other world.  A hundred years ago, or maybe a hundred years ahead.  Or maybe just hours ago, with miles of running and swimming and worrying in between.

He stepped back and collapsed on to a bench.  Niko took a fat handful of discarded ham and slapped it between two thick crusts from the bread --  not a dainty little sandwich at all -- and handed it to him.  Alex wolfed it down, and it tasted better than anything he'd ever had in his life.  Way better than the wimpy layers of dissolving bread and processed meat product he'd had at the dorm.  They'd put it in a little press and grilled it. It hadn't made it any better.

Muted reality, that's how Aunt Flavia had described the real world.  Or what he thought was the real world.  Was Awarshawa not real?  This sandwich was real all right.  That dorm sandwich was not real.

And Flavia said he'd find his place when he'd had enough of that world and its muted reality. Alex laughed. He never realized it was time to go, never saw he could go. Thorny was the one who saw it. Thorny, like a good teacher, had led him here, where the sandwiches were good and things mattered.

And now Thorny was lost.  Not there to save.   Flavia's words echoed in his head, but he shook them off. He just had to find where Thorny was.  Probably behind that locked door in the hall.  But not necessarily.... And then there was the girl.  Was she still in the parlor?

Alex jumped up.

"Let me take those to the front," he said, as Niko finished arranging the plates on a tray.

"Are you all right now?"

"I've never been better in my life," said Alex, and he set out with the tray to scout the halls, and find the girl.  Maybe, under the guise of a waiter, he'd get a chance to talk to her, to assure her help was coming....

Because once Alex got Thorny home, he'd come back.  Not just for the girl, but for himself.  Alex had found his place, and even if it turned out to be the worst mistake of his life, it was where he belonged, he was sure.

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Twenty: "Not There To Save"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Sunday Update - and Popcorn Tigers

A Round of Words in 80 Days Meets The Clarion Write-a-Thon

Wednesday Day 3 - artwork and some notes for the future
Thursday Day 4 - Ep 21
Friday Day 5 - rewrite Ep 4 for ebook
Saturday Day 6 - rewrite Eps 5-6 for ebook

Managed to do four episodes in four days, which was the goal.  I didn't do the artwork I wanted to do.

I also note that I don't feel the need to rewrite as much as I thought for the ebook version. There are a few places (so far) where I have "outtakes" I want to restore. And a few places where the prose is too tight.  Most of my energy is being spent on sorting out the best way to handle the upcoming complications.


The Blog Story Experiment - Changing My Life

I've tried to write this post twenty times.  So far it has turned into The Rambling Incoherent Post That Ate Toledo every time.  (Well, not completely incoherent - I probably have a few very nice individual posts mixed in.)

I seem to have gone from Popcorn Kittens to Popcorn Tigers.  Or something.

See, popcorn kittens is what happens when new opportunities crop up -- ideas and such go zinging around your head like, well, popcorn kittens.  But the thing about opportunities is that they change everythign.  They tear your world apart.  (You know, the song from Les Miz -- "the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder"?  Like that, only positive.  Because they're Popcorn Tigers, not the Tigers of Oppression.)

I wrote that discovering indie publishing two years ago was like Joe Konrath took me by the arm and said "Duck, meet water."  It was like coming home.  Well, I was wrong. That was just a puddle.  That was the first shoe to drop.  The second shoe (the big pond, if we want to keep both metaphors going) finally dropped this summer with this web serial.

This has caused me to change my plans completely.

THIS is what I want to do with my life.  This is it.  It's the unified field of my life: publishing, web geekery, writing and dreaming -- putting an episode to bed, with  illustration and proper links and all that, twice a week.

You know how writers dream about holding the printed version of their book in their hand? Or looking in the TOC of a magazine and seeing their byline and title?  Well, I get that feeling of satisfaction twice a week now.

Seriously, last night I was looking at my bookshelves, and thinking about clearing out that last shelf of old magazines, and I realized that they were the copies of my own works.  And I thought "oh, uh, okay, I guess I should keep those."

I realized that those didn't actually mean that much to me any more.  I was more concerned about my old original editions of Mother Earth News than my ego-copies of my work.  And that was a weird feeling.

The Smile On The Face of the Tiger

"There once was a lady from Niger
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger
They came back from the ride
With the lady inside
and the smile on the face of the tiger"

The problem is that this is changing my life plan -- or at least my three-year writing plan.

I have a very good three-year plan.  I was going to concentrate on writing my two mystery series and getting a solid base for each series.  I've got people waiting for the next Mick and Casey.  (Not lots of people, but enough that I hear from them.)

That plan has a reasonable shot at making some income from writing.  It's an established business model.  It's sensible -- and it's not like it isn't fun too.

When I started this serial it was something fun to do over summer.  I was planning to go back to regular writing in the fall. Sure, I planned to continue posting a serial, but I would use this other story. One I've already written, and it wouldn't disrupt my sensible, well-thought-out plans.

That might be enough for me, and I still might do that.

But right now that tiger is whispering to me, and I'm thinking that this experiment -- with this story -- won't be done at the end of the summer.  I think I need to go a whole year on it.  Or at least through the end of this year.

What's wrong with this?  Why is the tiger smiling?

Well, first, this new plan is a whole flock of birds in the bush.  No, just the sound of birds in the bush. I don't even know if the birds are really there.  It could just be one of those noisy cat toys.

Since I started this serial, I have seen a record increase in blog traffic -- just raw numbers of views on my blog.  But I haven't seen an increase in subscriptions, and reader response has dropped -- fewer comments, fewer retweets.  Book sales have dropped to zero.

I have a theory -- only a theory, mind you -- that this serial is having more effect than it seems.

This is the time of year when internet traffic of all kinds drops.  Sales slump, comments stop - just as I've been experiencing.  And yet my blog traffic is increasing -- due to people clicking through multiple episodes, mainly.  The lack of comments is partly because writers (my regular audience) tend to comment to support each other, but readers read in private.  They don't want a dialog.

So maybe my writer audience is drifting off for the summer as usual, but they're being replaced by regular readers.  Which would be cool, but I can't tell until this has gone on for a little longer. Is it just another of those weird blips in network data?

I have another, larger theory, which is what I have been basing my strategy on for a while:

Readers can take a long time to get hooked on a story/characters -- especially with certain genres, or with totally off-genre work like I write.  It takes even longer for them to get hooked on an author sufficiently to try her other works.  This is why I wanted to write those foundation books for my mystery series -- so that if someone liked one book, they'd find a couple more books with the same characters.

But those books are slow to write.  Neither series likes to be rushed. I've learned that.  It will take years to gain any traction with them.

On the other hand, this serial does seem to be gaining a tiny bit of traction already.  (It makes sense that it would because the episodes each have a new chance to hook the reader -- there is time and volume involved.)  However, I won't know, can't know, if this actually is gaining traction until I let it go through a full cycle.  Let it run in fall and winter, when blog traffic is high.  See if people will buy the first book while the second story runs.

To stop at the end of this story would mean to lose momentum and never know what that momentum could bring.  (I do know, from experience from my other books, what it means to lose momentum.  It ain't pretty.)

So I'm going to continue with this serial, at least through the second story (The Case of the Misplaced Bomb, I think) this fall.  I'll see how that goes. Maybe I'll do a third in the series after that, maybe I'll take a break and start that other series for a while.

I won't stop working on my other books.  There should be time. It'll just be slower and lower priority.

So what else is new?

See you in the funny papers.

MIsplaced Hero - Episode 18

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 18 - The Hospitality Committee

AS THE FRONT hall emptied, Captain Rozinshura cast a glance toward the parlor. He did not want to talk to Colonel Pookiterin yet.  Not until he knew more about his spy, and the spy's mysterious student friend, Alex.

"Tralkulo!" he called.  The clerk appeared instantly.  "Your book of notes, please.  And get more paper, you will interview every one of them again, to get a full list of who is here, and who is missing.  Also, do we still have that brandy we took from the smugglers?"

"We were going to trade it for a truck."

"Now we trade it for cooperation. Where is it?"

"Upstairs, in the front room."

He looked up at the stairs and his bad leg throbbed at the very thought of hobbling back down with a heavy box.

"I'll get it, Kinchin Captain," she said with a slight smile. "My notebooks are up there too."

She handed him the little book where she'd been taking notes, and he thumbed through it.  There was no Alex, or any name like it, listed among the survivors or the missing.  He also found no mention of Professor or Doctor Artemus Thornton.

When Tralkulo got back, he traded the notebook for the box, and sent her to the parlor to account for the ladies -- and also to see that the ladies were not in conflict with the security men.  Then Rozinshura lugged the box into the tavern.

He was immediately set upon by several men, all talking over one another.  He nodded gravely, as if he could make out what they were saying.

"All of your questions will be answered," he said loudly.  "But first we will have a drink. We sit. Kinchin Tralkulo will go over all the information with everybody to see that there are no discrepancies with our reports from the wreck, and we will all have answers together."

"But my cousin--" began one particularly aggressive young man.

"Is your cousin missing?"

"Yes!"

"Then she is not here, and shouting for her in here will not find her. Sit. We will make a plan."

He had almost the exact same conversation four times before he made it to the bar, though their worries varied: Missing people, injured people, missing luggage, hunger, a more comfortable chair, a cleaner table.

And while the masters complained, the servants began to scurry about to please them, even though some were injured or shaken themselves.  Rozinshura restrained his disapproval, and limped behind the bar.

There he found a manservant inspecting the glasses disdainfully.  The man began to pump water to fill the washing tub.

"No, no," said Rozinshura.  "You are not a servant here. You are equal. You sit."

The valet drew himself up and looked on Rozinshura like king looks on an insect.

"If we are all equal to drink from a filthy glass, sir, then I decline the privilege."

Rozinshura would have been insulted, but the glasses were dirty.  He sighed and set down the box of brandy.

"Perhaps I can help you with your equality," said a female voice.

A woman stood behind him.  She was well-dressed, with pearls and a pretty little hat marred only by a broken feather.

"Lady Featherdale," she said, and she flicked a the broken feather, as though it were her trademark. "A little dishevelled, but reporting for duty.  Shall I play mother? You seem to have enough to do."

She took a bottle of brandy and began to pour a small amount into each glass as the valet washed them.

Rozinshura, finding himself useless, took one of the glasses and drank. The brandy was very good -- mellow and warming.  It was better to drink it than trade it for a truck.

He took a bottle and slipped it into the large pocket of his coat.  He remembered that the spy's book -- with its dangerous bit of paper -- was in the other pocket.  It was time to seek the owner of that paper.

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Nineteen: "The Importance of Sandwiches"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

Update -- Holy Moly it's a Check-in Day!

Dunno what happened to my brain.  I was finishing up, and I happened to realize that tomorrow is Wednesday -- Check-in Day!

I almost never miss Check-in Day because every night before I go to bed, I update this post with what I did for the day.  I think, because I'm doing the Clarion dare too, I felt like my day was done when I updated that....


A Round of Words in 80 Days vs. The Clarion Write-a-Thon

Stuff I did:

Sunday Day 0 - Artwork, and some writing
Monday Day 1 - Episode 1, rewritten for eBook Version
Tuesday Day 2 - Episode 2, rewritten for eBook Version

As you can see I took a little bit of a break from writing new episodes.  I have finished up through Ep 20 -- but that's still three episodes behind where I'm supposed to be.  Still, I have a week or so to back off and think before I run out of episodes to post.  And I do have to think, because right now I have more possibilities than I need.

I'm also still not getting ahead on the artwork: I'm doing it that evening just before posting.  (I wanna do a ROW80 vs Clarion logo, too.)

(Check out the other ROW80 writers checking in today.)


Sleep Deprivation is No Fun

I am very heat and light sensitive. Summer is always awful for me.  I had come up with a pretty good solution for the heat, but the light still slew me.  I've been staggering around like I'm punch drunk.

This is on top of a certain natural side effect of being really excited about what I'm writing.  I'm drooling on the keyboard trying to get that last word written for the night (or last stroke drawn) and then I pop awake way early.

Also the cat. The cat believes I should be awakened every two hours to admire his zombie bunny.

The result of all of this is that I was going to write all about how this serial is changing my life and also maybe more character or background stuff - but I'm too sleepy.

See you in the funny papers.

Misplaced Hero - Episode 17

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

The Case of the Misplaced Hero

by Camille LaGuire

Episode 17 - Alex Finds a Sock

THE FLASH MOB had taken longer to organize than Alex hoped. These people were into hierarchy, and they debated over who should go first; the most important or least.  Only then did they sort out the list of demands.

When they finally entered the building, Alex kept to the middle of the crowd.  He figured that this would bring out every soldier in the place, and he could identify them. At first there were only four: the security men and their officer, and the lady with the bayonet on the stairs.

Lord Blinkersley, who was in the lead, tried to address the security men, but as the crowd filled the tiny entrance way, he was shoved right into them.  They shoved back and started shouting, and in moments, everyone was shouting.  The lady soldier on the stairs with the bayonet came dangerously close to taking off the end of a butler's nose.  The butler, crouched like a lineman with two other servants, looked ready to take the stairs from her.

Diversion achieved, thought Alex with a sigh.  But he couldn't worry about people getting hurt now.  It was too late anyway, and he had to get Thorny.  And the girl.  He tried to see into the parlor, but there were too many people in the way.  Instead, he pushed toward the tavern side.  Across that room he saw two more soldiers; his friend the cook and an officer with a walrus mustache.  Probably the captain Freddie had mentioned.  The guy in charge.

Alex sidled in that direction.  He saw the captain give the cook some keys, and the cook disappeared again.  The captain then limped with a long rolling gait across the tavern.  He pushed Alex aside and waded into the crowd, calling for calm.

"Please, no pushing or shooting!" he called.  "You are all welcome here!"

Everyone looked at him.  Alex took advantage of the moment to slip away from the crowd, across the tavern.  As he got to the door at the other end, he heard a voice protesting in the hall ahead of him.

"Are you sure I can't have a drink?"

It was Thorny.  Alex rushed into the hall, but he only caught a glimpse of the cook at the other end, pushing someone around a corner ahead of him.

Alex trotted after, trying not to make too much noise.  At the corner he found another hall, which was empty, but it turned so they must have gone out of sight.  He sprinted to the turn, and peeked around the corner, but it was just another short stretch of hall, and turned again..  Alex sprinted and turned and sprinted again, until he found himself in a cul-de-sac.

No more turns.  No Thorny.

They must have gone through a door.  He pulled one door open, and found a broom closet.  The next was locked.  Then he heard, somewhere back behind him, a door opened and closed.  He slipped back carefully, not knowing if they would come this way.  He found two more doors back near where he'd started.

One door looked heavy and was locked.

Alex knocked softly on it.

"Professor?" he called.  He listened.  Nothing.  He knelt down and looked through the keyhole, but it was dark.

The other door led to a storeroom full of linens and clothes.  Brown uniforms, beige shirts and underwear.  Alex didn't have time to change, but the thought of clean, dry clothes was compelling.  He grabbed up shorts and a shirt and stuffed them in the pockets of the jacket to change into later.

As he reached down for some dry socks, he saw a sock on the floor.  It was damp, and it was green with a knitted pattern of big white block "S" shapes.

That was a Michigan State University sock.

They must have gone into the closet to get Thorny some dry clothes, and Alex had run right past them.

Who knew where they'd gone from here?  The cook knew.  And he had been friendly toward Alex.  He might be induced to chat.

Alex went off to find the kitchen.

---

Stay Tuned for Episode Eighteen: "The Hospitality Committee"

First Episode | Series Intro and TOC | Story So Far | Previous Episode

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero -- now available as an ebook at major online retailers, including:

In most ebook formats at Smashwords, plus Amazon's Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Diesel, Apple iBookstore.  (Coming soon to Sony.)

Now also at Amazon's international stores: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Japan.

Or support this site directly;

The Joy of Imperfection, and ROW80 Begins!

ROW80 begins on Monday -- see the updates at the bottom.

The Magic of Imperfection

Kris Rusch had some great things to say about excessive perfectionism in her "Business Rusch" post this week.  While she had her own major points, the one I came away with was a variation on the old business saying: good is the enemy of great.  That is, when we strive to do things the "right" way, we kill the creativity that makes things rise above the norm.

Perfection kills unique. It kills quirk and unexpectedness.  To put it another way, the perfect potato chip never looks like the Virgin Mary or like Elvis.  When was the last time you saw a perfect potato chip go on eBay for $5000?

I have come across so many variations this theme lately.  One of the reasons I didn't make my goal Thursday was because I went to see Wicked, the musical based on the book which tells the story of the Wizard of Oz from the Wicked Witch's point of view.  The theme is ... Defy Gravity.  That is, defy convention.

Perfection is all about convention.  To be perfect means to be conventional.

Kris used an example of Shakespeare's Midsommer Night's Dream, which has three endings. One ending would do just fine for that play.  And yet, if we were to cut off the most unnecessary ending, we'd lose a great moment in literature.  That's not a good thing.

This is why I so dispise the advice "Kill your darlings."  Noooo!  Nurture your darlings. Your darlings are what makes your work yours.  I don't care if they are wild purple prose, or insipid sentiment, or if they dwell on boring technical stuff:  If you get a charge out of it, keep after it until you can do it well.

Don't hide your light under a barrel of convention.  Even if your light is a little garish and weird looking right now.  Let it shine.

Anyway...to bring this back to what I'm doing, and today's update: one of the sub-points in the post was the idea of limiting rewrites.  A story is never perfect.  You will never be done if you strive for perfection.  Pick a time and declare it done.

I made a comment on Kris' post that I found this serial - with its twice a week deadlines - did that for me.  Deadlines make you stop where you are and just hand it in.  It's like term paper due dates.  And as with those term papers, an approaching deadline makes you stop fussing over perfection and go after substance.

Kris had an interesting (and gratifying) response: She pointed out that 600 word fiction is a really difficult length. Even if it's not a whole story.  She was impressed with doing it once a week, let alone doing it twice.

She's right: It is difficult.  Just like the limits Alfred Hitchcock placed on himself were sometimes very limiting.  It forces you to be creative, and develop your skills....

But it also does something else: it frees you from convention.  You only have time for your light, not for the barrel.

That's the magic of frequent small deadlines.  But it's also true that it forces you to learn a lot.  For instance....

The Fabulous Thing About Imperfections and Serials

The story I'm writing is going to be longer than I thought.

Well, this story -- that is, this plot arc in which Alex has to rescue Thorny and get him back home, preferably before he's sober enough to know what happened -- will be a little longer.  But I intended this story stand alone and introduce the world for the giant plot arc of another series of stories.

But this story is turning out to be an alien pod, full of the seeds for other stories, ones that will happen before the arc I'm setting up.

And what is the nature of those seeds?

The imperfections that crop up from writing and posting to deadline.

This is in the nature of a real serial, as opposed to a serialized novel.  Every dissatisfying little side moment, every minor red herring, is a seed for a whole new story.  I will give you the example of the difference between The Dain Curse and The Big Sleep.

They say that years after Chandler wrote The Big Sleep, people asked him "So who did kill the chauffeur?"  And he didn't know.  It was an oversight.  He had twisted the story several times and overlooked the fact that he'd made it impossible for any of the revealed culprits to have done it.  Oh, well.  You only notice it if you actually sit down and parse out the whole thing afterward.  It seems clear while you're reading it.

All mysteries -- heck all stories -- have discrepancies.  We strive to clean up the obvious ones, or sometimes, if we see them early enough, we use them in the plot.  But an awful lot of them are just mistakes to be overlooked.

I don't know how Dashiell Hammett came up with the twists and turns of The Dain Curse, but I do know that the way it's laid out, it's a perfect model for using imperfections to launch more story.

In it, the Continental Op is hired, and wraps up his case completely in the first act.  He solves the crime, fully and accurately.  The first act stands alone as a story in and of itself.

But as he leaves the case behind, he knows there is a discrepancy.  He wasn't wrong about his solution at all, but that there is something else going on, another story yet to tell.  And by golly, he is called in again to deal with a problem related to the Dain family.

This is what a lot of serials were like in the old days, especially in silent film.  They did not use the classic "stay tuned" cliffhanger endings that became popular later.  Instead, each story was complete, but it often also had a teaser that hooked you into the next story.

And for that kind of story, the unexplained imperfection is an ideal hook.  Audiences notice imperfections.  But pulp fiction, and film, was quickly created, and full of discrepancies.  The audience was used to overlooking them... but they still notice.  And if the author picks up on that mistake and says "By the way, I noticed that too and I'm going to follow up," it's like a credit cookie.  It's a reward.

It can still be satisfying even if the author doesn't notice in time to make it an intentional hook.

A serial has the magical property that it creates imperfections by nature of having deadlines.  And it also, because of the need for more episodes later, gives a natural place to put those new stories.

If The Big Sleep had been a comic strip, for instance, with the need for a new episode day after day, it would be natural to pick up the story of who killed the chauffeur after the novel was over.  It would be a separate plot arc, so it wouldn't have to affect the previous story at all. It would be a new story, involving other suspects. (Because obviously he wasn't killed for anything to do with the events in The Big Sleep.)

This story -- the one I'm writing now -- has lots of little hooks.  Some of them I will follow up within the story, but those that don't fit... they're waving their little hands, begging to be turned into stories of their own. 

I blame Rozinshura for this.  Or maybe Lady Featherdale (who will introduce herself on Thursday).  Both of them are interfering types, who like to change the course of fate.  Rozinshura, though, is less likely to leave fingerprints behind.

But in the meantime, I've got to get back to this story.

See you in the funny papers.

---

The Case of the Misplaced Hero is still available to read in its original serial form, and also as a novella-length ebook. Check it out on the intro page here.