"The Muppet Christmas Carol," "Elf," and the eternal debate over Christmas movies

©  Disney

When it comes to Christmas movies, a certain amount of negotiation is usually required.

Thanksgiving generally marks the official beginning of Christmas movie season, the first point where people pull out blu-rays of their favorites and holiday specials are capable of popping up anywhere. It also once again renews the question of what the “true” Christmas movies are, a question that can differ dramatically from person to person and from household to household.

Even movies generally thought of as being on the “Greatest Hits of Christmas” list can be up for debate. “It's a Wonderful Life” and "Miracle on 34th Street" are both seen as Christmas classics, but a lot of people I've talked to who love one of the movies have almost zero interest in the other. Then there's the question of the black and white versus the colored versions of the movies, which can get more intense than people not interested in either movie could possibly imagine.

“A Christmas Carol” is an entire argument all on its own. There are enough versions of the movie to fill several different pages of Google, even when you don’t include modern variations, and fans of the story all have their favorites. The dozens of different factors that are involved – animated versus live action, classic retellings versus modern variations, fealty to the original story versus more streamlined retellings – and each argument has its champions on both sides. My personal votes are 1992’s “A Muppet Christmas Carol” for best original version – yes, I know, but the story is actually fairly faithful – and 1988’s “Scrooged” for best modern adaptation.

Then there's a comedy subsection, the most common representatives of which are “A Christmas Story” and “National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.” Technically, both are period movies – “A Christmas Story” intentionally evokes the 1950s, and “Lampoon’s” due to the fact that we’re moving increasing further away from the 1980s – and involve significant amounts of slapstick. Still, it’s nearly impossible to find both movies on a person’s “must see” Christmas list, and that’s not including those people who would happily ignore either for “Home Alone.”

Though it’s also a comedy, “Elf” seems to be in a category all its own. Discussions about holiday movies suggest that there are two very different opinions on the movie – either people love it and watch it every year, or they tried it once and immediately vowed never to watch it again. In case you’re curious, the people in the latter category always look faintly pained at the mere mention of it.

You'd think kids' movies would be considered universally acceptable, but even they have some mortal enemies. My best friend absolutely loathes all Rankin/Bass Christmas movies, particularly the classic “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Her least favorite character in that movie is the elf who wants to be a dentist, so much so that even a mention of him is enough to inspire a rant. It’s bad enough that she’d rather watch any number of schmaltzy Christmas movies, which she also dislikes, rather than be forced to watch a Rankin/Bass special.

Then, of course, there are wild card favorites. Some people argue that “Die Hard” is the only acceptable movie (it counts – the setting is a Christmas party), and others who consider “Nightmare Before Christmas” to be required viewing for both Halloween and Christmas. There’s even a few people who love “Ernest Saves Christmas,” but most probably won’t admit it in public.

The real answer to the question of the best Christmas movie, however, is surprisingly simple. It’s the one that makes you think of favorite childhood Christmas memories, or the one that makes your child smile. It’s the movie that still makes you laugh, even though you’ve seen it no less than 20 times, or the one that still reliably chokes you up even though you know it well enough to have all the dialogue memorizes. It’s whatever movie makes you not mind the snow outside (if there is snow) and makes you feel like Christmas lights look in the darkness.

So champion your Christmas movie, loud and proud, but don’t knock anyone else’s, either. It means Christmas to them, and that’s what matters. 

Cover reveal: "Dreamless"

So, apparently luck doesn't hold forever when it comes to covers.

This is the cover of my new book, "Dreamless," which is set in the same universe as "Fairy Godmothers, Inc." and "Beast Charming." As you might guess from the unconscious woman, this time I'm playing with "Sleeping Beauty."

This is definitely my least favorite cover, not because it's not cute but because it looks like it's advertising the kind of romantic comedy that would have starred Meg Ryan had it been released in the mid-90s. As those who have read my previous books, know, my romantic comedies are both darker and distinctly quirkier than that, so I'd like to apologize in advance for anyone who considers this false advertising.

What do you folks think?

(I'm still looking for original art I can use for advertising, by the way. Anything you'd be interested in sending would be incredibly welcome and fully credited to you.)

More about the book:

Sleeping Beauty never had troubles like this

For most princesses, a sleeping curse means a few inconvenient weeks unconscious followed by a happily-ever-after with their true love. Seventeen-year-old Elena's curse, however, was designed without a cure, which means that she's getting a century-long nap for her 18th birthday whether she wants it or not. After years of study she's still no closer to finding a cure, even with the help of an undead godfather and an enchanted mirror-turned-therapist. With only a year until the deadline she's learned to accept her fate. 

Sadly, there's one prince who doesn't seem to have gotten the memo and who’s continually trying to activate the curse so he can be the one to wake her up again. Only slightly less annoying is Cam, her new bodyguard and former childhood acquaintance who disagrees with Elena at pretty much every turn. When the curse threatens to come early, however, they both realize that fate is a lot more complicated than they'd ever imagined. 

"Dreamless" is set to be released March 15. Find it on Amazon.com.

New short story: Fine Print

The sorcerer held the pendant in his outstretched hand, the red stone giving an eldritch gleam in the dim light. "This was forged in the fires of Hades by the artisans of the damned. Wear this, and you will be unstoppable."

The richly dressed man on the other side of the table reached for it eagerly, but stopped when the small woman next to him cleared her throat. She was wearing a suit and a politely disinterested expression, and the sorcerer hated her instantly. "Not yet, your lordship. There are a few points of the contract I need to go over with Mr..." She flipped through a few of the pages in her hands. "Dread Dank Darin."

The nobleman sat back in his chair, disappointed. The sorcerer – Darin to his friends – narrowed his eyes at the woman. He definitely did not approve of the way she said his name without a shred of awe. "Contract? There is no contract. I have to summon a demon if you want one of those, and I'll need a case of alcohol and 48 hours advance notice."

The woman gave him a long-suffering look. "No, I meant the implied contract that comes with ownership of the pendant you are trying to sell my client. For example – you promise him that he will be 'unstoppable' if he purchases this, but what precisely do you mean by that?"

The sorcerer's brow furrowed, not sure what she was getting at but definitely not willing to admit his confusion. “Exactly what it says on the tin. Unstoppable. Cannot be stopped.”

“By whom, exactly?” The woman’s voice was just polite enough to be infuriating. “Individual opponents? Entire armies? Gods? If he takes possession of the pendant, will he be capable of stopping himself should he choose to? Or could he, for example, eat himself to death without intending to? And what definition are you using for ‘stop’? Defeat in battle? A halt in his rise to power? Death? And if it is death, does it mean he can’t be killed or that he can’t die?”

“I knew an immortal once,” the nobleman said suddenly. “He mostly gardened. Said he was bored of everything else.” He shuddered. “I can’t even imagine.”

The sorcerer gaped at them both for a moment, caught without an answer to even a single one of the woman’s questions. Then he shook his head and focused his attention on the nobleman.  “Unlimited power is almost in your hands, your lordship! All you have to do is pay me!”

The nobleman hesitated for a moment, giving the pendant one last hungry look, then shook his head. “No, sorry. Can’t do it. My grandfather got himself killed in one of those ‘no man can defeat me’ loopholes, and that was before there were so many lady knights about.” He pushed himself away from the table, standing. “No good rising to power if you make it that easy on people to stop you.”

“But… but….”

The woman tucked her papers into a briefcase, then stood as well. “I would advise you to look into researching your products more thoroughly, Mr. Dank.”

By the time he had recovered enough to correct her, they were gone.  

No shame in loving "dumb" movies

© 2015 CTMG, Inc.

I have to be very careful sometimes when I talk about movies I like.

When you’re in any group of “serious” movie fans, those of us who talk about awards season like people in movies talk about horse races, there are certain standards you’re expected to uphold. Anything that won a major award is usually acceptable – the Academy Awards or the Golden Globes are always safe, though you get extra points if you can get something slightly more obscure.

Even better is if the movie was nominated, but lost to something that wasn’t quite as “good” but came from a bigger studio. In general, your favorite films should be mostly dramas, though Wes Anderson’s movies (“The Grand Budapest Hotel,” “Moonrise Kingdom”) get a special exemption.
Major blockbusters may be liked under certain circumstances, but only if they’re well made. It helps if you can spin some explanation of how, for example, all the explosions are really symbolic of the destruction of modern society. (It goes without saying that you have to say all of this with a straight face).

I’ve seen many of these movies, and there were some of them I actually liked. As a former English Literature major, I can talk about the thematic significance of nearly anything, which meant that even if I didn’t like a movie I can talk about it in appropriately serious tones.

But I’m tired of hiding the fact that there’s a part of me that absolutely adores dumb movies. Though I haven’t seen the sequel, I actually liked “Paul Blart: Mall Cop.” (I actually had to physically fight the urge to go back and delete that sentence out of embarrassment, or qualify it with something like “even though I know how stupid it is.” Truthfully, I’m still fighting it, and it’s hard enough that I’ll be amazed if this entire paragraph makes it online).

I love the most ridiculous action movies, the kind that defy both common sense and the laws of physics, and want to be able to gush about my love of “Furious 7” without apologizing for how wonderfully absurdist it is. I want to be able to watch Reese Witherspoon use a terrible Texas accent (at least, I think it was a Texas accent) and fall over stuff in “Hot Pursuit” without having to pretend I wished it were something like “Wild.”

I will admit that Witherspoon was really good in “Wild,” a tough, searching movie about grief and self-identity. But do you know one thing it wasn’t? Fun. And sometimes, all I want to do when I go to a movie is switch my brain off and watch idiots crash into each other onscreen.

So if you honestly want to see a movie, go no matter how many insults movie critics or your “serious” movie friends pile on its head. Even if I’m the one lambasting the movie, feel free to ignore me if that’s what you want. If you end up deciding I was right, e-mail me and we can trash the movie together.

But if it turns out that you love it – or even like it just fine – there’s nothing wrong with that. Shout your love from the rooftops.  No matter how “dumb” the movie is, there’s absolutely no reason to be ashamed.

Yes, even if it’s “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2.”

Deleted Scenes: Beast Charming, part 1

This is the prologue for a slightly earlier version of "Beast Charming" that didn't make it into the final cut. While this means that some of the plot details listed here means that it no longer fits neatly onto the version of the novel you guys will be getting – at least one character has disappeared entirely, just as an example – it's a nice little introduction to the situation and some of the key supporting characters who did stick around.

000

Prologue: Door-to-Door Curse Correction

 “…and I’ve been told he’s a wonderful listener. It’s true that he doesn’t exactly have ears, but he’s an enchanted washboard – I’m sure they’ve made some other arrangements. A couple months of quiet company and poof, you’ve got yourself a prince – the happily ever after’s practically guaranteed ….”

 “Father.” Grace was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. “Let’s pretend I’m Beauty for a second.”

Startled, Noble froze in place, forcing the crowd flowing down the street to part around his bulk. “You’re my good daughter. Why in the world would I want to imagine you changing into your horrible little sister?”

Grace leaned forward as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Because then I would be the type of person who would tell you that if you don’t stop talking this instant, I’m going to knock you unconscious with this zucchini and leave you here to be stepped on.”

Noble blinked, then glanced furtively up and down the street in case anyone suddenly seemed a little too excited to help Grace follow through with the “stepping on” part of Grace’s plan. When no one came forward, he glared at his daughter. “Wouldn’t you say that was just a little more dramatic than the situation called for?”

Grace narrowed her eyes. “You want me to start dating an enchanted washboard. I don’t think you’re in any condition to be swayed by subtle suggestion.”

The empty space around them widened by a few inches, the need for the surrounding people to shave a few seconds off their travel time momentarily subsumed by the much more pressing need not to get caught in the middle of an Embarrassing Family Moment.

“I offer you the future and you sound as if I’m making you scrub the kitchen. Why have I been cursed with daughters who have such narrow minds?” Noble’s sigh was long and loud in the hopes that random passersby might take pity on him. “You all must have gotten that particular deficit from your mother, God rest her ….”

“Don’t even start with that.” Grace started shaking her head before he could even finish the sentence. “You know as well as I do that she’s not dead. She ran off with that merchant from Elvinton when Beauty was five and none of us have seen her since.”

“Which means that she could very well be dead by now,” he huffed, brown eyes not quite capable of meeting his daughter’s grey ones. “But that’s completely beside the point. The enchanted washboard’s the best potential fairy tale I’ve been able to find yet. There’s hardly any effort required on your part, and the prince won’t even get the chance to be … to meet you until you’ve already won his heart by saving him.” He leaned in close, wrapping a conspiratorial arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “It’s practically a sure thing – two weeks, at most, until you get your very own happily ever after and I get a wealthy and grateful son-in-law.”

Grace shoved Noble’s arm off her shoulder, whirling back around to face her father. “That, in case you’ve forgotten, is exactly what you said when you kept dumping frogs into our beds every night on the off chance that one of them might turn into a duke. And when you knocked Patience unconscious and spread the word that she was a long-lost princess caught in an enchanted sleep. Not to mention that time with the geese ….”

Noble folded his arms across his stocky chest, lower lip jutting out slightly in what he would never admit was an angry pout. “Your great-aunt Caroline locked herself in a tower for a measly six or so years and she managed to snag herself a baron.”

Grace groaned and rolled her eyes, then recited the same response she’d been making to that line since she was 15 years old. “It was actually the third son of a baron, Father, and the family was so poor that Great Uncle Nigel had to hire himself out as a castle maintenance man. He met Caroline when he was fixing a leak in the tower roof and just never got around to leaving.”

 “A minor detail.” Noble waved his hand casually, brushing away that inconvenient little thing called reality. “No matter what he was doing up there, your great-aunt certainly never would have met her future husband and stopped being such a burden to her parents if she hadn’t been up in the tower in the first place. Besides,” He sucked in his stomach, the mass of it lifting his chest a good three or so inches. “Her father didn’t have my vision.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Have we forgotten about the frogs already?”

Now Noble’s chin lifted. “Failure,” he said with utmost conviction. “Is just another step on the pathway to success.” Then he drooped slightly, adding with a mutter, “Though with you girls, it’s gotten to be an incredibly long pathway.”

Grace sighed, feeling it all the way down to the base of her spine. “You could just leave us alone, you know.”  She lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck. “It’s about the only crazy thought you haven’t tried yet.”

Noble made a disgusted noise. “But I have tried it, and look where it’s gotten us. The men from the village make the sign of the cross when they see Patience coming. Your little sister Beauty isn’t quite such a terror, but she’s still stubborn, smart-mouthed and thornier than your mother’s old rosebushes. You’re the only one who has any sort of chance of attracting a man on her own, but you’ve been so busy taking care of Beauty that it hasn’t occurred to you to start looking.” He shook his head. “Finding you girls fairy tales is about the last chance I have to stay sane.”

Completely unable to think of an argument her father would actually understand, Grace gave up and simply glared at him again. “You still haven’t told me how you decided I was destined to be the washboard’s dream girl.”

Noble raised an eyebrow, mocking Grace’s earlier gesture. “Have you actually listened to your sisters recently?”

Grace folded her arms, deliberately keeping her expression even. “Weren’t you the one that said the main advantage of this particular fairy tale is that the poor washboard wouldn’t get the chance to see or hear his future beloved until it was too late for him to do anything about it?”

Noble opened his mouth, then snapped it closed when he realized that she might have a point. His chin lifted again. “Maybe I was trying to reward you for making my life just a little less miserable than your sisters insist on doing.”

Grace remained unmoved. “You only think that because I’m willing to do the family mending.”
 “True.” A wistful look came into Noble’s eyes. “If we could only get you to start doing some embroidery, needlepoint even, I could pass you off in just about any castle there is ….”

Before Grace could respond someone with an overly large basket knocked against her, causing her to stumble backwards and nearly fall. Catching her father’s arm for balance whether he liked it or not, she straightened with an annoyed sigh. “And then there’s always the chance I could trip and smash the prince into a thousand pieces,” she added sarcastically, brushing away a lock of sand-brown hair that had fallen out of her bun before turning to face the rest of her father’s argument.

But he just stood there frozen, eyes wide like Grace had accidentally elbowed him in the stomach. Then he sighed, his entire body seeming to sag with the sound. “It would be just like that time with the twelve princes, wouldn’t it? Only eleven other couples in a gigantic enchanted ballroom, and you somehow manage to knock a grandfather clock on top of your prince charming.”

 “Once, Father. I did that once. Besides, that prince of yours is the one who practically threw me into that clock in the first place. If he hadn’t danced like he was swinging a sack of grain around ….” A little voice in Grace’s brain kept desperately trying to close her mouth, reminding her that she should be relieved that long-term commitment to a chunk of wood wasn’t in her immediate future. But she had been joking, curse him. “Breaking his legs was probably a community service.”

But Noble had already moved on, staring meditatively off into the distance. “It’s too bad about the washboard. Still, maybe I can trade the information to a wicked uncle or something, see if I can get one to adopt one of you girls for a couple of weeks. The poison, unfortunately, isn’t going to be ready until the end of the month, so at least for right now that’s a wash. If only that butler of his wasn’t so … well, well, well. There he is.” His gaze sharpened as something caught his eye, an almost predatory edge sliding into his expression. “I’ve got him now.”

Noble set off into the crowd, stopping only when he realized that there was now a Grace-shaped weight firmly attached to his shirtsleeve. “Who’s ‘he,’ and what terrible thing are you about to drag him into?” She took a quick, desperate look in the direction he had been staring, hoping the view would give her some sign of whatever was going on in his head. “More importantly, when are you going to spring this terrible thing on us?”

 “Not ‘us,’ my dear girl.” Noble was smiling contentedly as he carefully pried her fingers off his arm, and for the first time that morning Grace felt her stomach twist with genuine nerves. “I try to save the more … extreme situations for one of your sisters”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no way Beauty’s going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth. After that whole ‘straw into gold’ mess you tried to pull ….”

Noble shook his head, far too pleased with himself for anyone’s good. “As if I would limit my possibilities that way.”

 “You can’t mean … Patience?” Grace’s breath caught. The oldest of the three girls, Patience was rude, snappish and had a temper that could frighten off a bear, which meant that their father attempted to pass her off less often than he did the other two (large teeth and a willingness to use them made for a very convincing argument). If this was a chance to get her out of the house.... “You think you might actually be able to use her this time?”

He nodded, more than happy to lie. “You’ll never know unless you give me peace to work.”

She scowled at him. “That’s evil.”

His smile became a grin of satisfaction. “I do my best.”

000

“What would you do if I told you that I could solve all your problems?”

Momentarily distracted from a rather amusingly shaped rutabaga, Waverly raised an eyebrow at the tall, slick-looking individual in front of him and tried to decide if he was worth the effort for sarcasm. “Then I would say that you no doubt have too much time on your hands, for you very clearly have some problems of your own that need to be attended to first.”

At the expression on the other man’s face Noble shifted a bit, suddenly ever so faintly unsure of himself. He knew he was being insulted, but wasn’t sure how or whether it was worth possibly sacrificing the plan to call him on it. Still, no point in wasting the opportunity …. “Unfortunately for me, none of my problems involve your employer’s ... condition, which happens to be the subject that I am currently most prepared to deal with.”

Waverly sighed, looking fondly over at the displays of produce it was clear he wasn’t going to be allowed to return to for quite some time. He could do them both a favor and verbally destroy the man before he truly embarrassed himself, but to do so in public would be unforgivably rude. “And what condition would that be?”

Still caught somewhat off guard, Noble studied the other man’s eyes in the hopes he could see the joke.  When that failed, he cleared his throat and began a more concerted effort to be charming. “Amusing, sir, but I believe you know the condition I speak of as well as anyone does. Wouldn’t it be simplest, then, to leave such delicate matters for a more private setting and get right down to business?” He held out a hand for a handshake, but pulled it back quickly when Waverly merely eyed it as though he found the gesture amusing.  The idea rankled – what did the man expect, a bow?

For once, Waverly privately agreed with the man. It would be best to get this over with as soon as possible and return his attention to tasks that were actually important, or at the very least more mentally engaging. “Of course, but it might be wise to clarify a few things first,” Waverly allowed a disdainful edge to come out in his voice. “If by business, you mean that you just happen to have a convenient/daughter/sister/ex-wife laying around your domicile that you just know will be the one that can break the horrifying curse of the Beast of Darkwood Hill, then let me tell you that you are to date the 49th person to have come up with such an idea. I beg you to come up with a reason, any reason, why I should pay any more attention to you than I did them.” He thought for a moment. “And, if at all possible, do please try and make it amusing. I’ve just undergone a rather dull week, and could use the entertainment.”

Noble groaned inwardly. Honesty was all he had left, and it galled his salesman’s heart. “If you take away the sister and ex-wife, then you pretty much have it,” he muttered finally. “However, since I don’t know your taste in humor it’s going to be a little hard to fulfill the last part of your request.”

“Then I suggest you simplify your response by telling me why you think your version of the plan, whatever it happens to be, might actually work.”

Noble shivered inwardly, then reluctantly dipped another toe into truth. “Basically, my main selling point is the fact that Beauty is an incredibly stubborn girl. If she sets her mind to doing something, no amount of big hairy anger management issues is going to scare her off.  In fact,” he admitted after a moment, “it’s possible that she’ll be the one to scare him off.”

Waverly’s eyebrow moved up again, his curiosity finally piqued. For once, this was an angle he’d never heard before. “And does she want this?”

Noble allowed himself a small grimace. Forced into all this honesty in the space of a single conversation – he was going to need to lie down after this. “That, unfortunately, will be the hard part.”

Waverly eyed the man in front of him, sorely tempted for the first time in what he was certain had been years. It wasn’t that he specifically needed the curse broken, though such a result would certainly make life easier for the castle décor and the poor souls doing Beast’s tailoring. It was simply that what Beast needed right now was someone to take him out of himself. If Waverly was lucky, they might even slap some sense into the boy before putting him back.

If nothing else, it was possible he had just found the one girl capable of shouting Beast down if the need arose. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly at the thought. “Out of curiosity, what do you plan to do with this Beauty of yours if I say no?”

This time, the grimace was almost completely suppressed. “I suppose I could try and get her in with this enchanted washboard I’ve heard about ….”

Waverly shook his head with a sigh. The lack of vision in some people was appalling. “I hope you’ve put slightly more thought into your primary plan than you have into your backup. I dislike being a party to incompetence.”

Noble’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to analyze exactly what the butler might have meant with that last sentence. “Are you saying you’re interested?” At the mere forming of the thought he leaned forward slightly, the eagerness already beginning to leap back into his face. “Because I could con Grace into running some sort of errand up near the castle, I’m certain of it. If your master caught her trespassing on the property and held her hostage – in a dungeon would be the best – I’m sure Beauty would trade herself for her sister’s freedom ….”

“That would be one way of going about things.” Waverly took a precautionary step back, in case the man became overcome and insisted on doing something ridiculous like touching him. “A much saner, approach, however, would simply be for me to write this Beauty of yours a letter and offer her a suitable job at a quiet, respectable castle with residents who have conveniently never met you before in their lives. By the time she arrives at her true destination it will be too late for her to back out, and… we shall see what develops.”

Noble fought back an expression that was dangerously close to a scowl. “That’s all?”  Noble had planned on looking like he had nothing to do with this, and would have gotten to that point had he been allowed to actually lay out his brilliantly foolproof plan. This butler person didn’t know his daughter at all – Beauty was way too good at screwing this sort of thing up. There was no way something so idiotically simple could succeed where he had so often been thwarted.
Still, it would be best to agree now, then take matters into his own hands once she was safely inside ….

“For the moment, that will be all that’s needed.” Waverly raised an eyebrow, amused by some distant thought. “Though I suspect that it would be a good idea to hide the fine china.”

Never Open the Death Closet

One of the poop-covered victims

Our apartment has a death closet.

Mind you, we don’t provide the bodies. The birds do it themselves, flying in through an opening on the side of our building to drop in to our water heater closet through the vent. Too often, they’ll injure themselves and fall/crawl behind the water heater, where they then can’t get back out again. We hate it, but none of our previous supers would put grates up, and short of developing some sort of bird pulley system there’s nothing we can do.

It’s better when the birds can fly, and we have a rousing game of “fly out the open door you stupid bird.” One of the birds that showed up after the last rainstorm did just that, while the other one insisted on a game of tag first as it tried to fling itself against our closed and screen-covered kitchen windows (that were three feet from the open door, mind you).

The following morning, I heard more noises from the bird closet. Our new guest had no interest in flying, and when I tried to grab him he just tried harder to wedge himself in the crack between the wall and the water heater. I had to get to work, and I didn’t want the guy to get back there if I could help it, so when I left for work I kept the door open and hoped it would see sense.

When my roommate got home, she texted me that there was a bird trying to fling itself against my bedroom window and no sounds from the closet. She got the bird out and closed the door, and I told myself the matter had been solved. The bird she described sounded too big to be the one in the closet, but I wanted to think that it had gotten out.

The next morning, though, I swore I could hear birds in my room. Now, sounds echo oddly through the thin walls of my apartment building – when I’m in bed I can hear anyone knocking in my building – but I was certain enough to get up twice, put on my glasses, and peer desperately around my room. Finally, I convinced myself I was hallucinating and went back to bed.

I later got up, went to work, then came back home. As I was hanging a shirt up in the closet, I heard a flapping noise from somewhere around the floor. I shrieked “I knew it!” and proceeded to hunt for the bird, which was trying to wedge itself into a tiny space behind the filing cabinet. After an exciting adventure behind my bookcase, we got the bird and deposited it in a safe place outside. Finally, all the birds were accounted for.

Somewhere, the universe was laughing at me.

Later that evening, I was on the phone with my sister, and when I turned around there was suddenly a bird sitting on my bookshelf. I made an unholy noise, which caused the bird to disappear again, at which point I starting shoving my way through the solid two feet of furniture and assorted crap that stood between me and the corner. One of those things was a stuffed animal that made a trilling noise. It activated when I threw it, at which point I shrieked, “There’s another one!” I was overwhelmed enough I had to hang up the phone.

When I’d collected my thoughts a bit I realized it was the stuffed animal I’d heard, and I was calmer as I finished clearing everything else out of the way. Then I looked down into the dark corner and saw two little birdie faces staring up at me, their expressions clearly wondering why I was freaking out so much.

I then walked into the kitchen, laid my head on my roomate’s shoulder, and said “There are two of them.” She patted my shoulder and came to help.

The first one was relatively easy to get – plastic bag gloves are an important part of this process – and as I carried it outside she tried for the second one. This one, unfortunately, wanted to die, and we had a whole adventure behind two different sets of bookcases while it ran back and forth along the entire length of one wall. My roommate had it at one point but it escaped, making her wedge her hand into an inch tall space while she cursed the bird’s ancestry and all its cousins.

Finally, though, she got it, and I hurried to the front door to open it for her. Just as I left the room, I suddenly heard her scream (and I quote), “Fuck! There’s another one!”

At that point, I was laughing too hard to breathe. After that, getting the last bird out was almost anticlimactic.

I’m still finding poop in my room, and our landlord swears we’re finally getting a grate. Until then, though, I’m not opening that damn water heater closet for anything.

Fairy Godmothers, Inc. short story: Paperwork

Paperwork    

by Jenniffer Wardell

           

Kate had thought the one creative writing class she’d taken in college would prove completely useless. Then she’d started writing Fairy Godmothers, Inc. assignment reports.

           

She hesitated over the mirror’s keypad, weighing her words.

           

The client, Yvette Longhorn, had not been told of the Fairy Godmothers, Inc. package her parents had purchased. When I informed her, she appeared excited by the prospect of working with the company.

           

Technically, it wasn’t even a lie. One of the definitions of “excite” was to “increase the activity of something.” Throwing a chair was definitely an increase in activity.

           

Apparently, Yvette already had a boyfriend, a fine, upstanding dwarf who worked as a jeweler a nearby town. Her parents, who apparently had strong views about inter-species dating, did not approve.

           

We had a lively discussion about her personal preferences for the assignment.

           

Translation: there was a lot of shouting, and even more of Yvette flatly refusing to listen to any of the very sympathetic and rational things Kate had to say. She had valiantly restrained herself from either hitting Yvette with her wand or turning her into a fashionable hat.

           

But it had been close.

           

Before a second meeting could be arranged, however, the parents requested an alteration of the original contract. Per Fairy Godmothers, Inc. regulations, they paid an additional 50 percent of the package cost as a change fee. Neither of the Longhorns stated a reason for the alteration.

           

Once Yvette had shouted herself hoarse, Kate had dragged her to her boyfriend’s shop and explained the concept of bribery to both of them. Luckily, the boyfriend was far more sensible than Yvette, and had a grandfather who had done very well for himself in mining before the family moved down to the city.

           

The Longhorn’s compunctions, it seemed, weren’t quite as strong as their desire to have enough jewelry to blind all of their neighbors.

           

The Longhorns and Yvette all report 100 percent satisfaction with the resolution of the assignment. Their client statements are attached below. Yvette also stated that she would recommend the company to all of her friends.

           

Particularly, she would point out that certain Fairy Godmothers were good at handling difficult parents. Kate thought it best not to mention that part.

           

She had, however, been invited to the wedding. 

Special Client

Special Client
by Jenniffer Wardell

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a script."

"I know it's a script, Frank, but what do I need a script for?" My improvisation not doing a good enough job for you?"

"No, Harry ..."

"Harriet!"

"Sorry. Of course not, Harriet. You're the sexiest voiced cross-dresser we have on staff, and I love the job you're doing. But this is for a special client."

"A phone-sex line has a special client?"

"Weird, I know. but this comes straight from the higher-ups."

"A phone-sex line has higher-ups?"

"Harriet..."

"Okay, okay. But still, why do i need a script? I'm creative -- I can treat this guy right."

"I'm sure that you can, but this one has ... special needs."

"Any more special than the guy that got turned on by egg yolks? He hung up satisfied."

A pause. "Well ... yes. Have you read the script, Harriet?"

"Not yet. But even when I do, how do i know what guy to use it for? We take names and credit card numbers, but the script doesn't include either."

"You'll know. Besides, he always calls at the same time."

"And when would that be?"

"I don't remember." A pause. "Do you know what the time difference is between here and Eastern Europe?"

"Eastern Europe?!"

"Just read the script, Harriet."

"Fine." A pause. "Night ... a huge bed ... balcony window ... black cape ... a fantasy scenario? That shouldn't be too hard."

"Keep reading."

"Nightgown -- ok ... heaving breasts -- like that's original ... a lot of neck descriptions -- unusual, but not a problem ... biting ... hey, wait a minute. Frank ..."

"Don't worry about it, Harriet. I'm sure you'll do great. Remember to compliment him on his huge, throbbing teeth. He loves that. Bye."


Click. 

Fairy Godmothers, Inc. flash fiction: Snookums

Snookums
By Jenniffer Wardell

Once the dress was finished, Minerva lifted her skirt and twirled. “See?” she announced, stopping just long enough to strike a pose. “Gorgeous.” Knowing their cue, a nearby servant stopped weeding the flower bed and applauded appropriately.

Finally giving up, Kate gave her client the same smile she always used on Bubbles. The girl had insisted on enough ruffles to make her look like an enormous, particularly fattening cake. She’d also insisted it be lemon yellow, which was turning her skin tone into a very similar color. “It’s great.”

“Of course it is.” Minerva posed again, a haughty expression on her face. “And now I insist you do one for my Snookums.”

The sudden announcement threw Kate, though she was careful not to let it show on her face. “Snookums?” she asked carefully, once again cursing whoever had put the assignment file together. There’d been no mention of anyone that could reasonably be referred to as ‘Snookums,’ and if the client was hallucinating this could be as bad as that assignment with that Thumbelina girl. It was extremely hard to reason with someone who insisted they were only six inches tall. “I’m sorry, but the contract your grandfather purchased only covers one transformation.”

“Oh, nonsense. Grampy knows I don’t go anywhere without my Snookums.” She whistled shrilly. “Come out here!”

At the sudden whooshing noise above her head, Kate immediately ducked. She looked up just in time to see the elephant swoop down and land in a nearby tree, nearly bending it in half under its weight. It was wearing an enormous pink silk jacket, with a matching bow just behind its ears.

Kate stared in horror. “I take it that’s Snookums.”

“Of course. I’ll start a new fashion trend.” Minerva gestured to the servant to throw the elephant a treat. “Make her a dress just like mine. Then we’ll go into the ball together.”

Now that was an image designed to give a person nightmares. “I’ve been to the castle. Snookums won’t fit through the door.”

Minerva pouted, then brightened. “She can wait for me outside. Big romantic moments are always supposed to happen outside, anyway.”

Kate sighed. Clearly, she was going to have to figure out how to hide a flying elephant. 

The Liebster Award: More about me (and the next nominees)

First, thanks to http://fjrtitchenell.weebly.com for tagging me in the great online game called the Liebster Award (apparently, it’s sort of like a chain letter for bloggers, except there’s no implied dire consequences). If I’ve tagged you and you don’t want to play, feel free to pretend none of this ever happened.

11 Facts About Me

1. “Return of the King” is the only book I’ve read in “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy. I read it all at once the evening after I first got back from seeing the movie version of “The Two Towers,” because my mother refused to tell me if anyone I cared about died in the third book.

2. Joss Whedon is a genius, but if I ever met him in person I’d probably punch him in the face. He’s hurt too many characters I love.

3.  I like the Monkees better than the Beatles. Yes, I know how desperately uncultured that makes me.

4. When I’m tired or in a hurry, I have a tendency to call people of both genders “dude.”

5. I didn’t have a car all through college. The skills I learned then in navigating public transportation have helped me out on every vacation I’ve ever taken since.

6. I have a long-term crush on Kiefer Sutherland. If I ever met him in person, I would probably do something to destroy what little dignity I possess.

7. Given the opportunity, I will usually sit on the floor rather than a chair. This is true even in my own living room, which means that my armchair ends up doubling as an extra table.

8. The most famous person I’ve ever interviewed (for my day job as an entertainment journalist) is Rita Moreno. She proved out to be charming, interesting, and the source of some fantastic quotes.  

9. I’m addicted to Chapstick. I must have a tube within arm’s reach at all times.

10. My head is large enough that I have a miserable time finding hats that fit.

11. I love buying coats and jackets, but I’m so warm all the time that I rarely ever wear them.

Answers to 11 Questions

1. What fictional world would you be most willing to live in?

I know this is cheating, but I’d have to pick the world in my novel “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” I know all the rules, and my writer’s status would probably give me magic powers.

2. What verbal tic annoys you most?

I have so many verbal tics of my own that it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to take umbrage at anyone else’s.

3. If you could have one cancelled TV show resurrected, which would it be?

This is a tough one, because I have a terrible habit of falling in love with shows that are too quirky to live. A really good one would be “Life,” Damian Lewis’s series that ended in 2009, if only because the season/series finale is one of the most awesome hours of television I’ve ever experienced. I would love to have seen the aftermath of it.

4. If you could have one currently running TV show cancelled, which one would it be?

“Supernatural” on CW. I love the show and absolutely hate it at the same time, and the only way I will ever be completely free of the thing is if it goes off the air.

5. What’s the most surreal thing you’ve ever witnessed experienced?

With my book coming out, one of my co-workers at the newspaper wrote a story about my book that ended up going on my arts page. It was too long for the space, however, so I ended up making significant cuts on a story about me, written by someone else. For a journalist, that’s about one of the strangest experiences you can ever have.

6. What book do you think most urgently needs to be made into a movie that hasn’t been yet?

There should always be more Discworld movies in the world. I would love to see Sam Vimes in the flesh. 

7. What’s the first book that really scared you?

I wasn’t exactly scared, but certain parts of Mary Higgins Clark’s “Loves Music, Loves to Dance” did give me queasy feelings when I was a teenager.

8. What’s the first movie that really scared you?

"Carnosaur." It was the first movie I saw where the good guys lost in the last few minutes (quite horrifically, too). It traumatized me for years. 

9. What do you do to cheer yourself up when you really need it?

Read. Terry Pratchett is particularly good for those moments when I want to completely block out the world. 

10. What’s the strangest question that anyone (other than me) has asked you about your work?

If my book was a meal, what would it be?

11. What’s the answer to it?

I can’t tell you that, or the blogger who asked it will be annoyed that I spoilered her post.

11 New Nominees

 Kimba the Caffinated Book Reviewer

http://www.caffeinatedbookreviewer.com/

Rebecca Enzor

http://rebeccaenzor.com/

Sonia G. Medeiros

http://doingthewritething.wordpress.com/

Dan Levinson

http://www.danlevinsonwriting.com/

Lehua Parker

http://www.lehuaparker.com/

A Diary of a Book Addict

http://adiaryofabookaddict.blogspot.com/

Kindred Dreamheart

http://kindreddreamheart.blogspot.com/ 

Janet Jensen

http://www.janetkayjensen.blogspot.com/

Read, Rinse, Repeat

http://readrinserepeat.blogspot.com/

Kerry-Ann McDade

http://readinglittlebitofeverything.blogspot.com/

Cabin Goddess

http://cabingoddess.com/

11 New Questions

1. If you could be any kind of animal, what would it be?

2. Why would you want to be that animal?

3. Do you have any superstitions (that you’d be willing to share with your blog readers)?

4. What’s your favorite joke?

5. What’s your favorite dessert?

6.  Where’s your dream vacation destination?

7. What would your supervillain name be?

8. What would your supervillain power be?

9. If you had a time machine that would only work for one trip into the past (with a safe return as well), when would you go?

10. What’s your least favorite movie?

11. What movie do you feel is underappreciated?

The Liebster Rules:

1. The Liebster Award is given to bloggers by bloggers.
2. Each blogger should post 11 facts about himself / herself.
3. Each blogger should answer the 11 questions that are asked by the nominating blogger.
4. Choose 11 new bloggers to nominate for the Award and link to them in the post.
5. Create 11 new questions for your nominees.
6. Go back to their pages and tell them they’ve been nominated.
7. No tag backs.

Supervillain Don’ts #2: Complicated Death Gadgets

It’s time to get back to that complicated wheel of death, or any of the other ludicrously complicated mechanisms that supervillains repeatedly use in their attempts to slaughter heroes. Though their popularity has been on decline since the 70s and 80s, there are still plenty of our villainous brothers and sisters who still have visions of enormous swinging blades and times flamethrowers dancing through their heads.

I understand the appeal. Rube Goldberg machines that kill are both hilarious and are a great way to display how fiendishly clever you are. They’re a perfect place to use your ominous music soundtrack, and it gives a death scene a bit more flare than the traditional stabbing or shooting. If you’ve chosen to be a themed villain – The Evil Cheeseman, for example (though please, don’t take that as a suggestion) – you can construct a device that matches your theme.

There is, however, a fatal flaw in such devices – the more moving parts something has, the more ways it can disastrously break down.  It’s the same fatal flaw that comes with most of the basic technology in our lives, though there isn’t usually someone whose life depends on making sure your television doesn’t work (unless your family really hates your taste in TV shows).

The more complicated a method you use to kill the hero, the more opportunities they have to throw one last gasp of their powers (or, for that matter, a rock) in just the right place to bring the whole thing to a screeching halt. Or worse, send it crumbling into a big heap that will injure five or six minions in the process.

The hero will sadly, always know where these spots are – either they will be hiding an engineering degree/basic scientific genius you know nothing about, or they will be blessed with an incredibly annoying level of luck that will guide the rock right where it needs to go. Even if you shield the spot – hiding it behind thick metal shielding, for example – the hero will be able to reflect the rock in such a manner that feels as though the universe is conspiring against you.

Another advantage that complicated death devices give the hero is time. Spinning blades and flamethrowers are designed to strike fear into the hero’s heart long before something actually comes along to chop that heart in half – what’s the point of all the show, otherwise? But shows take time, which gives the hero a few precious seconds, minutes, or (in the most complicated devices) hours to come up with a plan to escape and stop your current wicked plot.

The simplest solution to all this is to simply shoot the hero in the head once you have him imprisoned (chest shots are also acceptable, though it will increase the chance of the hero miraculously surviving). If you need to show off your device of death, send the hero’s corpse through, then gather your minions together so you have an appreciative audience.

The Next Big Thing: Beast Charming

Thanks, Wikipedia!

The Next Big Thing: Beast Charming

So, The Next Big Thing has come around to me again! Since “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” has already had its time in this particular sun, I thought I’d give you guys a peek at “Beast Charming,” my book coming out in 2014.

Where did the idea for the book come from?

I love “Beauty and the Beast,” except for one little problem. I wanted it to be about seeing the beauty within people, but most versions I ran across seemed to say that love meant you had to change yourself. Besides, arguing is a lot more fun than listening to songbirds.

What genre does your book fall under?

Like “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.,” “Beast Charming” is humor/fantasy/romance. Technically, the two are even set in the same world.

What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Kat Dennings from “Two Broke Girls” and “Thor” as Beauty (she’s too attractive, but what can you do?) As for Beast … wow. I honestly have no idea (though CGI would need to co-star, I’m sure.)

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Beauty finally finds a fairy tale she can believe in, but she has to fight her father, magic, and her own self-doubts to keep it.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

It depends on what you count as the first draft of the manuscript…. Let’s say two years. Of course, I also say I’m 5’6’’ instead of 5’5’’ and a half, so I’m probably not the most scrupulously precise person.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

“Fairy Godmothers, Inc.,” for starters. Beyond that, fans of Terry Pratchett and Patricia Wrede’s “Enchanted Forest Chronicles” will definitely want to give me a try.

What inspired you to write the book?

This is the version of “Beauty and the Beast” I always wanted to read. Since no one else wrote it, I had to.

What else about your book might pique a reader’s interest?

Well, a full summary might help:
http://jollyfishpress.com/press%20release/102412_Beast_Charming_by_Jenniffer_Wardell.html

Thanks and a huge shout-out to the Berk and Andy Washburn, who invited me into this round of “The Next Big Thing.” Check out their blog post about their upcoming book, “Pitch Green!”

http://thebrotherswashburn.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-next-big-thing.html

The Next Big Thing: Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

My new book, “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.,” is being published in late April 2013 by Jolly Fish Press. http://www.amazon.com/Jenniffer-Wardell/e/B005RREFUM The wonderful people at Jolly Fish are putting together an official site for the book now, but the members of The Next Big Thing blog hop are giving me a chance to give you guys an early introduction to the book.

The Next Big Thing: Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I’ve always wondered why fairy godmothers go around sneaking poor girls into fancy dress balls. The only answer that made any sense was that they must be paid for it.

What genre does your book fall under?

Fantasy/humor/romance. Yes, I know there’s no section in bookstores for that, but why limit yourself?

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

My publisher, Christopher Loke, mentioned Emma Stone for Kate. Kate was flattered by the comparison, naturally, but is sure she’s nowhere near as pretty as Emma.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Kate, an employee of Fairy Godmothers, Inc., falls in love and saves the day in the middle of her most complicated assignment yet.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

The first draft was so long ago I genuinely don’t remember. Let’s just say that Kate and I have known each other for a very long time and leave it at that.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

All fantasy humorists dream of one day being compared to Terry Pratchett. People who have read early drafts have also compared to Mercedes Lackey’s 500 Kingdoms books and Patricia C. Wrede’s Enchanted Forest Chronicles.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

I love fairy tales, but the heroines were always so good and beautiful that I kind of wanted to smack them with something. What about the witty, sarcastic girls? What about the girls who no one notices? What about the girls who have never really fit in anywhere? I wanted THOSE fairy tales.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

“Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” is what happens when fairy tales and reality collide.

Thanks everyone! You can also check out other blogs in the blog hop, including our useful, interesting and funny home base, Slow Stir: http://shaundawenger.blogspot.com/ Jolly Fish can be found at http://jollyfishpress.com/

A Handbook for Supervillains: Choosing a Persona

So You Want to Rule the World

Choosing a Persona, or Step Away from the Spandex

Be VERY careful with these. The object of the entire super villain persona is to strike fear into the hearts of innocent townsfolk and surrounding superheroes, not make them want to laugh their heads off.  Generally, any villainous identity that involves brightly colored spandex, killing your enemies with normally harmless items (“Fear my eggbeater of terror!”) or costumes that include anything that could easily be handed out as a party favor falls into this category.

Comedic super villains are never allowed to win, unless they are heroes or are lucky to find themselves in a gritty reboot. The place of the absurd villain is to be defeated in a comical manner, often through use of some sort of pun related to the villain’s name. These people are forced to constantly wear horrendous costumes (this is discussed in further detail later), never get a single good line of dialogue, and never, ever get the girl.

Still, even more traditional themes require a delicate balance. Death is widely seen as terrifying, but if you call yourself Mr. Death you’ll need to start piling up the bodies before you’re taken at all seriously. Trying to make yourself sound scary is often seen as an amateur move, when if you are truly scary you could be called “Florence” and people would still back away from you in terror. Instead, call yourself something something simple, such as D, and carry around a large weapon you know how to use (Not Mr. D, though. That’s just asking for trouble).

If you’re uncertain as to whether your planned villainous persona can be taken seriously, walk into an appropriately disreputable bar and introduce yourself in character. If you’re ignored or laughed at, go back and try again. If people start inching their barstools away from yours, then you have a winner.

Note: A comedic villainous personal can occasionally come in handy, such as when you want to distract the guards while you make off with [insert name of precious treasure here]. If that’s the case, then any mortally embarrassing costume that still leaves you room to maneuver should do the trick. I would suggest only using it once, however, and perhaps switch through an entire gallery of embarrassing costumes to confuse the heroes further.

Next: The Female Villain Persona, or Yes, Even Evil is Sexist