And Now for Something Completely Different
To take my mind off the June n Peaches story in the hands of others, because obsessing is rarely a good thing, I started a fun little project that is completely different. No wizards, no cats, no bad government agency, none at all. This is in a different world, where a crazy physics Professor invents a weather machine and proceeds to get his revenge on the small town that treated him so badly for the last twenty years.
I have no idea if it's marketable, all the 1950s adventure stories may show up one night to get their revenge, and the James Bond books have all been done, but gawd if writing this isn't fun. My protag is an arrogant young pup newbie reporter at a small town newspaper who thinks he's too big for this two-bit town. Here, see for yourself,
The young man ran down the sidewalk, only taking note of other people he passed when he dodged them. People he flew by on the sidewalk recognized his face from the their paper’s byline and wondered what story their newest reporter in such a rush to get to. A story was the reason he ran down the sidewalk, it wasn’t too the story he raced. When he had seen that email from his boss, without thinking he threw on the nearest jeans and t-shirt he could find and sprinted from his main street apartment the two blocks to the offices of this small town’s excuse for a real newspaper. He burst inside the main door, ignored Mrs. Rhodes’ protests as he jumped the counter, then smacked open the door marked Private behind her.
“Why do I have to waste my time at Doctor Dodo’s presentation?” Bradley demanded at full volume. His arms swung wildly in the overgrown closet pretending to be an editor’s office. The man seated at that desk had to grab at a stack of papers that Bradley almost knocked over.
The door slam behind Bradley punctuated his sentence as if he had timed it.
Bradley stood with arms crossed and glared at his boss and Head Editor, John Mathews. Hatred that because he was the junior reporter, the crap assignments at this two bit hometown paper all went to him had finally boiled over. Which was why, when he saw the assignment in his email, he now stood in the main office to scream directly at his editor.
“Because he’s the closest thing we have to a celebrity in this college town,” John growled back. He rose from his chair with purpose, placed his balled fists between the paper stacks to lean forward and meet his newest reporter eye to eye. John wondered now why he had ever hired Bradley. While Bradley’s work experience had been impressive, his arrogant attitude wore thin after only two weeks. “And his name is Professor Harold Chandler,” John said to the tight lipped man on the other side of the desk.
“Yeah, whatever,” Bradley said, and dropped into the wooden chair padded with a half-inch or so of paid classified ad forms for inclusion in tomorrow’s issue.
John winced as he sat back down, but told himself that the forms underneath Bradley’s ass were all safe on his computer. John didn’t toss them in that chair until he typed them in, usually. While as an editor, he could sympathize some with his newest hire, fresh out of college with a degree meant for a dying industry, there was just no way John could give this assignment to his other reporter. Old Zach should have retired before John took over from the last editor ten years ago, who retired because of heart problems. (John expected an identical fate.) In prep, before John made his decision on who to assign Prof. Chandler’s presentation, he had read some old stories printed about the crazy professor. What he read made the decision easy; Bradley was more likely to survive the presentation.
“My decision is final,” John said, as he turned his chair to face his computer monitor and began typing. “ And if you want a paycheck in four days, you’ll get this story in my in box by tomorrow eight a. m.” he told the screen.
Bradley, rage spent, got up without a word and left. John sighed at the classified forms on the floor and hollered for Mrs. Rhodes.
As usual, standard disclaimers* apply.
Well, needing his paycheck, Bradley goes to the presentation, and when the audience laughs, the professor slips a cog. It gets Exciting! and Dangerous! Our Hero almost Dies! and Someone Must Stop the Professor!
Like I said, it's fun to write. :D
*These are raw words, no editing has been done. Your patience with any spelling/grammar errors is appreciated.
I have no idea if it's marketable, all the 1950s adventure stories may show up one night to get their revenge, and the James Bond books have all been done, but gawd if writing this isn't fun. My protag is an arrogant young pup newbie reporter at a small town newspaper who thinks he's too big for this two-bit town. Here, see for yourself,
The young man ran down the sidewalk, only taking note of other people he passed when he dodged them. People he flew by on the sidewalk recognized his face from the their paper’s byline and wondered what story their newest reporter in such a rush to get to. A story was the reason he ran down the sidewalk, it wasn’t too the story he raced. When he had seen that email from his boss, without thinking he threw on the nearest jeans and t-shirt he could find and sprinted from his main street apartment the two blocks to the offices of this small town’s excuse for a real newspaper. He burst inside the main door, ignored Mrs. Rhodes’ protests as he jumped the counter, then smacked open the door marked Private behind her.
“Why do I have to waste my time at Doctor Dodo’s presentation?” Bradley demanded at full volume. His arms swung wildly in the overgrown closet pretending to be an editor’s office. The man seated at that desk had to grab at a stack of papers that Bradley almost knocked over.
The door slam behind Bradley punctuated his sentence as if he had timed it.
Bradley stood with arms crossed and glared at his boss and Head Editor, John Mathews. Hatred that because he was the junior reporter, the crap assignments at this two bit hometown paper all went to him had finally boiled over. Which was why, when he saw the assignment in his email, he now stood in the main office to scream directly at his editor.
“Because he’s the closest thing we have to a celebrity in this college town,” John growled back. He rose from his chair with purpose, placed his balled fists between the paper stacks to lean forward and meet his newest reporter eye to eye. John wondered now why he had ever hired Bradley. While Bradley’s work experience had been impressive, his arrogant attitude wore thin after only two weeks. “And his name is Professor Harold Chandler,” John said to the tight lipped man on the other side of the desk.
“Yeah, whatever,” Bradley said, and dropped into the wooden chair padded with a half-inch or so of paid classified ad forms for inclusion in tomorrow’s issue.
John winced as he sat back down, but told himself that the forms underneath Bradley’s ass were all safe on his computer. John didn’t toss them in that chair until he typed them in, usually. While as an editor, he could sympathize some with his newest hire, fresh out of college with a degree meant for a dying industry, there was just no way John could give this assignment to his other reporter. Old Zach should have retired before John took over from the last editor ten years ago, who retired because of heart problems. (John expected an identical fate.) In prep, before John made his decision on who to assign Prof. Chandler’s presentation, he had read some old stories printed about the crazy professor. What he read made the decision easy; Bradley was more likely to survive the presentation.
“My decision is final,” John said, as he turned his chair to face his computer monitor and began typing. “ And if you want a paycheck in four days, you’ll get this story in my in box by tomorrow eight a. m.” he told the screen.
Bradley, rage spent, got up without a word and left. John sighed at the classified forms on the floor and hollered for Mrs. Rhodes.
As usual, standard disclaimers* apply.
Well, needing his paycheck, Bradley goes to the presentation, and when the audience laughs, the professor slips a cog. It gets Exciting! and Dangerous! Our Hero almost Dies! and Someone Must Stop the Professor!
Like I said, it's fun to write. :D
*These are raw words, no editing has been done. Your patience with any spelling/grammar errors is appreciated.