Been watching classic cartoons on youtube.

Now THAT'S funny and original, instead of the stuff you get nowadays. Classics like Ducktales, Tiny Toons and Animaniacs. Freakazoid. Tailspin.

What well of simultaneously light and deep comedy have they drunk from? I must discover it for myself!

For what it's worth, this is the reworked version of the query. Slightly less than a hundred words have been added to push the limit, but I hope the voice shows.

#

Dear [agent],

I am seeking representation for my humorous fantasy, MORALLY AMBIGUOUS, complete at 110,000 irreverent words.

Nodammo Ebonlocke is her own sorceress, preferring gardening and running gift shops to plotting world domination, don’t mind the ashes off to the side (they’re completely organic, she swears). But that doesn’t sit well with the Company, a mysterious megacorporation that’s mushroomed overnight in Fantasyland and is converting everything in sight to resemble badly-written fantasy novels. Royal Farmboys, Feisty Princesses and Appropriately Gruff and Drunken Dwarves start littering the landscape in droves, and someone’s got to do clean-up duty.

After she offs one too many heroes trying to kill her, with the result of the Company tearing down her theme park-cum-tower, Nodammo and her employees take refuge in the nearby kingdom of Gru’bar’atr (formerly Fairbanks, as per paragraph 23B of Company guidelines for ridiculous, over-apostrophed names). Oops. Little do they know it’s been under siege by the Company’s conformation efforts for quite some time, ruining the kingdom’s economy. After all, having a large sword and a crown-shaped birthmark aren’t the best of qualifiers for a head of state.

Realising it’s better to stand and fight even if it means possibly giving up her breathing priviliges, Nodammo takes it upon herself to save the kingdom and discover the Company’s true nature and what it wants--before all of Fantasyland becomes one giant cliché, or even worse, a subsidiary.

Thank you for your consideration, and have a great day!

Yours faithfully,
[Name].

Need to show more of my voice in the query letter. It's amazing I got the partials with this piece of crap.

When Nodammo Ebonlocke’s afternoon tea is spoiled by a hero with a very big sword arriving in the Generic Little Village, she reacts as any morally ambiguous sorceress would. With a little help from her employees, she manages to bury the hero’s remains in the vegetable garden where he can finally do something useful with his life by helping the vegetables grow bigger.

The problem doesn’t stop there, though. Infuriated by their constant loss of heroes to Nodammo, the Company, a mysterious megacorporation that’s mushroomed overnight in Fantasyland, dispatches an army of heroes led by Miss Annoyed, a junior executive in the Company, to dispose of Nodammo and her employees. Nodammo and her employees summon up a tea elemental, buying them time to escape from the heroes. After some deliberation as to what to do, Nodammo decides to seek consul from her mother, who advises her that running is ultimately futile, and that standing her ground and fighting the Company offers her the best chances of prolonged survival.

Meanwhile, Brommus, a wise old mentor on the Company’s payroll, loses his job to the fact that Nodammo’s been killing off his protégés. After leaving Literacity and wandering for a while with no goal in mind, Brommus receives a prophetic dream from his own chain-smoking wise old mentor, and is advised to hire himself out as a handyman to the very nursing home where Nodammo’s mother is living in. There he finds happiness in repairing carnivorous fountains and other odd jobs--until Nodammo arrives, the army of heroes on her tail.

In the ensuing confusion, Nodammo meets Brommus and learns of his previous career choice. Realising the value of a disgruntled ex-employee of the Company to her cause, she offers to hire Brommus. While he is initially reluctant, Brommus eventually agrees as Nodammo’s cause is the best chance he has of undoing the damage he’s done over the years. That being done, Brommus suggests that they head to the kingdom of Gru’bar’atr, where he gains them an audience with the current king by virtue of being the king’s wise old mentor during the latter’s days as a hero.

Nodammo and Brommus soon learn that the kingdom is in dire straits, due to the fact that having a crown-shaped birthmark, a large sword and good intentions is hardly a qualifier for good statesmanship, especially when he is under pressure by the Company to turn his kingdom into a cliché. Together, they help rebuild the kingdom by convincing ministers and nobles to return to their posts, fixing the king’s well-intentioned financial disasters and restoring the people’s confidence in their ruler.

However, Nodammo’s activities have long since come to the Company’s attention, and Miss Annoyed is dispatched once more by the Company’s CEO to assess the situation. Here the Company’s true intentions are revealed to the reader; that they are people from Earth who have crossed over into Fantasyland and are creating artificial stories for the sole purpose of extracting narrative powers such as deus ex machina, million-to-one chances, happily ever afters and the likes for resale on Earth for obscene amounts of money.

Miss Annoyed quickly determines that Nodammo is a threat. While her boss agrees with her assessment, he instructs her to construct an appropriate climax for the narrative structure she’s observed so far with the caveat that she throw the fight, so that the story can be milked for all it’s worth. The idea troubles Miss Annoyed but her objections are ignored, and she secretly plans to eliminate Nodammo for the sake of the Company’s stability.

It doesn’t take long for another army of heroes to be amassed, this time directed at the kingdom. Realising the first signs of the threat, the king asks that Nodammo convince the ex-commander of the kingdom’s armies to help organise the defences. When Nodammo arrives at the cottage she’s been directed to, she discovers to her surprise that the commander doesn’t live alone; the ex-king, the current king’s uncle, is in hiding there too. After listening to the ex-king’s side of the story of how he became and evil usurper, Nodammo ropes them into helping save the kingdom. Through a combination of their own grit and ingenuity, internal sabotage from Miss Annoyed’s boss, who’s realised what she’s doing, and the power of the narrative secretly aiding them, Nodammo’s side manages to defeat the army of heroes.

Brommus expresses concern that they won too easily, but Nodammo tells him to be content with his victories, even as unknown to them, Company agents pore over the battlefield harvesting huge amounts of narrative power. The story ends with the kingdom reverting to its former and rightful name of Fairbanks and the instatement of the ex-king as his nephew’s head advisor, with the invitation to Nodammo and her employees to stay in the kingdom as long as they wish.

“Tell me, buddy,” Victor said, showing the slightest hint of sharp, serrated teeth. “Have you ever made a study of the foreign art of that so-called foong-shuey geomancy thing? You know, where people find all sorts of excuses to redo their living chambers?”

Brommus frowned. “I’ve heard of it, but what--”

“Because that fence over there is really bad luck, if I’m not wrong. Really bad luck, the sort which offends the Dragon of Extreme Unhappiness. That’s never good.”

“I don’t know much about foong-shuey, but I’m quite sure there’s no Dragon of Extreme Unhappiness. Maybe a phoenix, but a dragon?”

“Oh, but there is. Me.”

Eerily close enough to the essence of who Victor is.

Wish I could do this to the most vocal subset of ethical vegans.

Been having trouble with the beginning of Ethically Questionable. It's a bit of a toughie trying to balance a beginning which can stand alone and yet provide some form of continuity to engage those familiar with the previous book, and I'm trying with different bits of the spectrum to see what fits best. Introducing new characters non-obtrusively while giving old characters enough airtime is nifty, too.

Without further ado, innuedo ahead.

The cart plodded on along the mud track, pulled by a couple of horses. While Miss Annoyed thought oxen, or at least draft horses, were more practical for the purpose, she had to admit they weren’t as appealing as the glossy-coated, graceful creatures tethered to the cart, reminiscent of her daydreams as a girl.

That was important. The small things like pretty ponies and flawless skin on heroes added up and bolstered the stories; Logistics made sure ugly horses didn’t exist, not while on their watch.

Now if only she could find a way to make Morningwood suffer from critical existence failure.

“Not very chatty, are you?”

The dragon slayer sat on a sack of wheat, his hands on his knees. As far as Miss Annoyed knew, in the last two days they’d been travelling together, he’d never taken off so much as his helmet, or budged to eat, drink or use the bushes. He’d just sat there doing his statue impression until Miss Annoyed began wondering if there was anyone inside the armour at all.

“Look, I’m trying to promote good boss-employee relations here. Chapter twenty-one of the Company employee handbook clearly states that a good, professional relationship with your immediate superior is essential to a conducive working environment, and you’re not helping at all.”

“What Would You Like To Talk About, Then?”

“I’ll repeat myself: I’m not an impressionable peasant, so there’s no need to use that tone of voice with me. This is your last warning.”

The armour shifted very slightly. Miss Annoyed tried to keep her eyes off its groin area.

“Fine. You would like to speak about?”

“How about we break the ice by you telling me about your weapon? It’s a bit uncommon to see bows on non-elf heroes. Those like you often tend to prefer swords.”

Several moments passed in silence before Morningwood reached behind him and drew his bow, a huge specimen that was as tall as he was and reminded Miss Annoyed of an English longbow she’d once seen in a museum.

“This is my bow,” Morningwood intoned in a flat monotone as he held out his bow in both hands. “It is thick, strong and big, unlike those which girly elves tote around. If you look closely, you can see the veins running on the surface of the wood.”

“That’s nice. Go on.”

“Every day I make an effort to care for my bow. I grasp its horny length with my hands and rub it hard until it shines. Sometimes a clean cloth is involved, and I have to wash it after. There is a certain sense of pleasure in cleaning one’s bow. It means you are using it enough to warrant regular care.”

“Um…”

“My bow once won a prize at an archery competition hosted by Enforcement. Everyone said that I won, but I believe all credit goes to my bow. The other competitors were not much, either--their bows were all either too thin or too short to be of much use, and they jerked off their bowstrings and thus did not shoot off very far or accurately. When I won, my bow had a ribbon tied around it, and I was very proud. Since then, I have occasionally entertained the thought of decorating my bow and painting it blue.”

“Look, I don’t like where this conversation is going. Perhaps we could…” Miss Annoyed began, but Morningwood ignored her and continued speaking.

“I still remember my latest kill. It was a dragoness, which I nailed squarely with my bow. My shot penetrated her deeply, and she moaned loudly. I will not deny the fact that I felt a surge of gratification on hearing her cries--” The visor of Morningwood’s helmet turned to take in Miss Annoyed’s back. “Excuse me for my asking, but I thought we were having a friendly boss-employee conversation?”

“I think that’s enough for now,” she replied in a strained whisper. “Maybe I’ll do most of the talking from now on.”

Chocolate Chip Cookies

532.35 cm3 gluten
4.9 cm3 NaHCO3
4.9 cm3refined halite
236.6 cm3 partially hydrogenated tallow triglyceride
177.45 cm3 crystalline C12H22O11
177.45 cm3 unrefined C12H22O11
4.9 cm3 methyl ether of protocatechuic aldehyde
2 calcium carbonate-encapsulated avian albumen-coated protein
473.2 cm3 Theobroma cacao
236.6 cm3 chopped de-encapsulated legume meats
(Serving size # 10)

To a 2 litre jacketed round reactor vessel (reactor #1) with an overall heat transfer coefficient of about 100 Btu/Fh-ft2-hr, add ingredients one, two and three with constant agitation.

In a second 2 litre reactor vessel (reactor # 2) with a radial flow impeller operating at 100 rpm, add ingredients four, five, six and seven until the mixture is homogeneous.

To reactor #2, add ingredient eight, followed by three equal volumes of the homogeneous mixture in reactor #1. Additionally, add ingredients nine and ten slowly, with constant agitation. Care must be taken at this point in the reaction to control any temperature rise that may be the result of an exothermic reaction.

Using a screw extruder attached to a #4 nodulizer, place the mixture piecemeal on a 316SS sheet (300x600 mm). Heat in a 460K oven for a period of time that is in agreement with Frank & Johnston’s first order rate expression (see JACOS, 21,55) or until golden brown.

Once the reaction is complete, place the sheet on a 25oC heat transfer table, allowing the product to come to equilibrium.

Victor just married a ghost who died from drowning; I suppose that was appropriately evil. I prefer to think of her as a water elemental, the whole "Lady of the Lake" kind of thing. Definitely looks like one, with the flowy, rippling skin and water continually dripping off her.

Yeah, I suck at screencaps. But this had to be told.

( Nefarious(TM) evil! )

I caved in and got The Sims 3, ye olde virtual dollhouse.

First things first: to make a human version of Victor. Evil, brave, athletic, family-oriented left me with one remaining trait, so I went and picked insane.

Ye gods, the laughs. "Evil slumber". "Take evil shower". "Troll on internet forums". And I think he mumbles with maniacal laughter in his sleep.

I know, the novelty'll wear off sooner or later, but for now it's lovely fun.

Three words:

Golden Sun DS.

Comes out 2010.

OMGOMGOMG.

I can hardly fucking wait.

Which reminds me why I got out in the first place.

Had a panic attack.

What if I'm NOT funny?

What if I share an amazingly unique sense of humour which no one else on Earth has?

What if all of my attempts at original material come off as stupid, and the references are taken as stealing?

...

Bleh.

I feel like a DnD character who can only do so many things so many times a day before he, for some arbitrary reason, can't do them anymore for the rest of the day. It's not that I'm idle or procrastinating. I have plenty of things to do, and get around to doing them. I write, but there comes a certain point where my mind drifts off and I end up staring at the screen, be it after one hour or four. The funny decays exponentially from what I think, or rather, hope to be original material to crap ideas that I steal from daily life. Those, hopefully, got edited out. In the first draft of Morally Ambiguous, there were patches where fatigue was showing through.

There're only so many hours one can play Team Fortress 2 or Left 4 Dead until either one gets bored, or one's teammates have to quit to get on with their lives. There're only so many times one can keep refreshing their Gmail and University inboxes in the hopes of something new. There're only so many times one can go to the library and return with things worth reading, and only so much exercise that can be done without straining oneself.

Yeah, holidays.

I need to talk to someone.

It's near the end.

***

( Yep. )

The first partials have been printed and mailed, with prior requests to the agents that they reply via email (instead of the traditional SASE) and recycle my manuscripts, to which they so graciously agreed. Considering my geographical location, international reply coupons would cost far, far more than it would to reprint a new copy of the manuscript altogether.

Three more partial requests have come in. I'm on a roll.

Work on Ethically Questionable has started, with the main plot points being Murkywood Elf Reservations, the Great Gryphon Proletariat Revolution and the Great Flap Forward, as well as a recurring antagonist in the aptly-named Morningwood, the Company's mightiest dragon slayer. Not sure which bit players should make a return--the Hobait and her Quest(TM) to plunge the Fun Thing into the pleasantly warm depths of the Nether Regions will be worth a laugh or two, that's for sure. I'm not sure about the others, though, and given the nature of my drafting process probabl won't know until I do write them down.

Ye silly worst Australian stereotypes.
( More Jarate. )