So I was writing for my book, got a few hundred words down, then experienced a series of interruptions. This is totally normal. What was NOT normal was when I reread a section and actually laughed out loud at my own writing. I’m not usually the kind of person that laughs at his own jokes (I hope) but I figure if I made myself laugh, then I’m probably on the right track as far as writing for an audience with a sense of humor.
Here is a little demo track of my upcoming novel. The part that made me titter with glee. Note: I have no idea why the font changes halfway through. WordPress is weird about fonts.
Daniels had a map of the city and of course he had a compass, so our general path was easily laid out. Unfortunately, we had to guess the distance we travelled, and then we found out twice that the sewers didn’t follow the streets exactly. There was a little backtracking and making turns that didn’t seem right, but after popping our heads out of a man hole for a quick adjustment to our location, we felt right. Another ten minutes later, we found one of the markers pointing to the secret house entrance. For lack of a better phrase, the rest was just a hop, skip, and a jump away.
We reached a false wall, plywood covered with a thin layer of concrete to help it blend in, moved it out of the way, and after one last stretch of low ceiling, we reached the secret door.
“So, I hate to be cliche,” I said, “but what’s the plan?”
“Good question,” Daniels responded slowly. “I thought we decided to go in, guns blazing, asking questions never and just vaguely hoping we would succeed at whatever it was that we had planned.”
“Right. Awesome idea. I’ll take the gun, you go first.”
Daniels snickered to himself. Maybe we weren’t in such a bad mood after all, or maybe he was worried about his Mom.
“Josh,” I said, “she’ll be all right. Your mom is more capable than most.”
“I know. It’s just instinct. I want to look out for her.”
“Then do it. Tell me how to help.”
I could see him smiling in the dim light of our headlamps.
“Okay. First rule is do not speak. Second rule is follow my lead. Third rule is keep your eyes peeled and kick anybody’s ass that comes near my mom. Unless it’s my ass that comes near her, then don’t kick it.”
“Wait, are there three rules or five?”
“But that last one was like three in one.”
“You’re distracting me. Shutup.”
“It’s a legitimate question.”
“Shutup. We’re moving in.”
We shared a quick chuckle and then Daniels slid his pocket knife into the latch, pushing the bolt out of the way. Then he motioned for me to turn out my light. Everything went pitch black until a crack of orange glow escaped the secret door.
Daniels moved the door open another half inch. Still, no sound. Inch by inch, moment by excrutiating moment, we waited and watched and listened. There were a couple lights on, but no sound. It was dim, but we could generally make out the room. The pool table and TV sat where I last saw them.
Like a wraith, Daniels crawled out of the secret door and took cover behind a couch. I counted to ten, then made my own move for a bookcase where I could see the stairway and Daniels.
Still nothing. I made a motion to investigate the rooms skirting the basement and I got a nod in return. Together we went for the bathroom, easing the door open, checking it out, and then moving on. Everything was clear. Laundry room, bedroom and entertainment room, everything.
Daniels pointed at the stairs and we walked over before he stopped me. From his pocket, he produced a small survival mirror. The stairs that we faced doubled back on themselves leading into the living room upstairs. With the mirror, Daniels inched forward holding the mirror at eye level so that he could see what was above and behind him.
He made it up five stairs and turned around. I followed and together we made it into the living room, prone, crawling underneath a window that lead to the master bedroom. The only lights on were the stairway light, and the kitchen light. A very dull glow spilled under the master bedroom door.
When Daniels reached the door he reached up and turned the knob just a hair faster than would be considered “stealthy.” We clearly heard a weapon being chambered.
“I shoot first and ask questions later.” It was Meredith.
“Mom, it’s Josh,” he whispered.
“What’s the password then, stranger?”
Daniels turned to me and raised an eyebrow.
“We never had a goddamn password!”
The door flew open and a very nightgown clad, hair in curlers, weapon raging Meredith
“Dammit, you shouldn’t have come here.” She said.
“We came to rescue you!”
“Rescue me? I don’t need rescuing!”
“Honey, come back to bed,” speaking of coming, came a man’s voice, all sleepy like.
“Who the hell is that?” I asked.
“Oh, Jesus. Josh, this is Tom. He’s my boyfriend. Tom, get your pants back on.”
“Why the hell are his pants gone? Who the fuck is Tom?!” Daniels was on his feet now,
trying to get into the room, but his mom was holding him back.
“Josh, calm down, go sit in the living room.” Meredith turned him around.
“I’ll go put some tea on.” I said, cheerfully.
Daniels and Meredith sat down in the living room and talked in low voices while I put the water on. While I was looking for a good herbal tea I figured that this boyfriend must be new. So new and exciting, in fact, that Meredith actually forgot to come see us. This dude must either be incredibly smart or incredibly sexy, or both, to have that kind of effect on Daniels’ mom.
“Ah, you must be Josh. I’ve heard so much about you.” The sound was coming from the
wrong direction. I turned to my left to see a slightly pudgy, hairy man in his early forties
wearing only pajama bottoms holding out his hand to me with a huge grin on his face.
“Sir, did you eat a lot of paint chips as a kid?” I couldn’t help it. It slipped out.
“Well, I’m black.”
“Meredith is quite white. The genetic possibilities are just not statistically likely for me to be her son. Also, I’m thirty three, which would put her at about fourteen years old when she would have had me.”
The dude looked at me with a friendly, yet blank sort of stare.
“Uh, I’m Marcus. They say I murdered my grandma. The man you’re looking for is in there.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you anyhow.” He shook my hand. Firm grip, big smile. Total ditz. I liked him.