Welcome to the wonderful world of senseless violence!
Um, yeah, the title? My brothers are funny, aren't they? :D
While I was working my bum off in Kárahnjúkar, my parents were travelling around Germany and surrounding countries. At some point they visited my German grandmother, and apparently Mum showed her my (German) novel, "The Mystery of the Magic Coin". But I'm pretty sure I gave her my permission, so that's ok.
Now.
Today I was woken up by being told that Grandma has sent the novel to two German publishing companies already. I can't remember ever giving permission to that. But I was going to publish it anyway, so I'm not complaining. It's just that I don't think that an 18-year-old's children novel has much of a chance in the huge German market. The people at the publishing company are probably going to send it back without reading more than the title. Publishing the book in Iceland first would have been a lot easier since my great-cousin, who is a writer, has promised to put in a good word for me.
But now I might as well hope and pray. Squeee!
(I sure hope Grandma used the abbreviation Miriam G. instead of attempting to spell Gerhardsdóttir correctly. I'm not even sure if she can spell my first name...)
I've decided to have a continuing story on my blog, posting a new chapter whenever I feel like it. This story is called "_" (Underdash - you'll understand the title once I post the second chapter) and it's based on one of these late-night conversations between me and my dear brother Jared (svefngalsi, no doubt). I was both half-asleep and half-blind when I wrote this, so feel free to give constructive criticism.
(By the way; it has nothing to do with John Lennon or John Cleese. The main character just happens to be named John, which is a very common name, and doesn't have to imply a Beatles/Monty Python-obsession, even though in my case... *loses consciousness as someone clubs her on the head*)
Chapter 1
John’s heart pounded rapidly as he stepped into the yard of his new high school. He did his best to put on a self-secure smile. ‘Whatever you do, try to look normal. Don’t do anything weird,’ he told himself.
Unfortunately being normal was quite a challenge for someone who had spent the last six years in an institute for extremely weird children. For 16-year-old John, who was used to being surrounded by kids who found it funny to stick bread up their noses and didn’t invite you to their birthday party, because you weren’t quite fictional enough, just the sight of all these clearly normal teenagers in jeans, skirts and tee-shirts, walking around in small, happy groups and chatting over yesterday’s episode of Lost or the newest hit by Jennifer Lopez, was extremely scary. A couple of long-haired girls in cheerleader uniforms walked past John, glancing at him disdainfully as they passed. John grinned nervously.
Just as the cheerleaders had disappeared from John’s view and the boy was wiping some sweat of his forehead, he heard a cheerful voice shout out: “John! Johnny, is that you?”
John turned around to see a tall, black boy in a Led Zeppelin shirt pushing a few freshmen out of the way to get over to him. John’s heart did a relieved flip-flop when he recognized his old childhood friend. “James! It’s great to see you!” he exclaimed.
James grinned, showing off his pearl-white teeth. “So they released you from that institute?” he asked casually, “Cured from all weirdness, are you?”
A shiver ran down John’s back at the thought of the huge Miss Melinda who had hit him on the head with her nail file each time he talked about purple horses. “Yeah, I think so,” he replied.
James frowned. “That’s too bad,” he said, “I liked you weird.”
“No, it’s better to be normal now. I have seen the errors of my ways,” John explained, still shivering, because now he remembered the time he had accidentally seen Miss Melinda in the shower.
James patted his friend on the back. “Poor thing. They really brainwashed you, didn’t they? But don’t worry, old buddy. We’ll have you back to norm… I mean to weird in no time.”
John shook his head quickly. “Please don’t! I just spent six years in hell, and if I get weird again, my evil aunt Friedhilda might send me back! I’d better try and fit in with the other normal people here.”
James shrugged but a wicked smirk had appeared on his face. “Normal people. Yeah,” he muttered and chuckled to himself. Then he retained his serious expression and said: “Come on, I’ll show you around.”