There are some parts of part two I'm not thrilled with but my mind is a bit distracted so I'm posting now.
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"Miss me," he mewed in his sick, sweet voice. I stared at him for what seemed like hours, cursing my luck. Why couldn't he have been hit by a bus, or mistaken for an assassin's victim. But no, he sat there with his tailored blue, pin striped suit and slicked back hair. He picked at a stray hair while he sat there and gave himself a further inspection.
Looking up again, "You don't look like you're very happy to see me," he said sending chills through to the core of my muse.
"I suppose you think you did a wonderful job of "writing," the word stank of disdain as it rolled off of his sophisticated tongue, "but I've seen it and it's all rot. ROT, do you hear me," I could see flames flare in his dark eyes, "But you're stuck at the pier at Raven's Point and you don't know how to get Lon and Breia to Bane." Another hair, "All the ideas you've come up with so far are stupid, stupid, STUPID!" In that moment my writing drive suffered a severe blow, not quite fatal but wounding deeply; the vital liquids of creativity oozing from the gash in my psyche. However, my loathing began to simmer.
Lowering my eyes in shame, I said, "I know," feeling as guilty as the condemned man that I Really was...Condemned never to get a complete story written and...Oh heck, I thought, He's right! I'm not cut out for this form of art! I ran a hand through my hair, I'm lying myself, I have no creativity, I'm a loser with a wild fantasy. Ed smiled, sitting up a little straighter, sensing victory.
From that moment on my Ed has had me cowed. It seems to be ok that I think about writing or even if I read about writing but if I so much as try to put ink to paper or fingers to keyboard, he's there beside me giving me a knowing look, or wagging a forefinger under my nose, and a disapproving "Tsk, tsk, tsk."
"You can't hold me forever, you know," I said, stammering, a meek attempt to gain control and show this intruder who is boss. He smiled and melted from my sight.
I sighed. The one thing that brought a measure of passion to my life is now in shambles, relegated to the flames of perceived incompetence, increased complacency, and more self-doubt, all supplied in abundance by Ed; not so much an editor, but more like an torturer...
I've reached the end of my rope! I'm ready to unleash the fullness of my passion and soar on the wings of the written word and not allow this miserly fiend to keep me grounded with the other turkeys who refuse to take flight! I am taking action now! I...I..I'm going, to hire an assassin! That's it! I'll hire someone to take this scum out once and for all. I will show no mercy as he has shown me no mercy! But how? Where does one find an "inner editor assassin"? My face fell at this thought. My idea dead before it even gets off the ground. I thought some more, desperate to wring more ideas from my embattled mind.
There are your average, ordinary assassins, of course. The ones who kill a president here or a king there or maybe some famous actor, but I need a special assassin. There are character assassins but this inner editor if mine is not a character...wait! Wait one minute! If I write him into a story, say, this story, he then becomes a character! And as a character he is vulnerable to character assassination! YES! That is the answer. What a revelation! Rubbing my hands together, I head for my office sanctuary.
After careful investigation, I have concluded that the best assassin I could find is actually a team of assassins. I'm not willing to take any chances.
Psst...I need to tell you who they are in case something happens to me before I can execute (no pun intended here, but it is funny!) my plans.
The assassin duet I hired consists of two dedicated individuals and come highly recommended. Their names? The first goes by "M". He says it's best this way. The less I know the less cleanup needs to be done when this thing's all over. His smile is like daggers. Shivers run down my spine, seeking a place to hide.
The second man is "Mr. D".
(Wait! I need to stop. Ed's lurking about and I don't want him to see us talking. See you tomorrow!)
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