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From: "Sam Grume" <grumbles@linuxmail.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Tam and Claire 2a/5 {uncle grumbles} (Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, humor)
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Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 04:10:11 -0500
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author: Uncle Grumbles 
title: Tam and Claire Chapter 2a/5: Story Conference Interlude
summary: My muses and I discuss getting this damn thing back on track.
keywords: Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, humor 

==

myfile:tamclaire-ch2-v1a-storyconf-m72.txt 

======

My muses read over Chapter 2, nudging each other and nodding. By
the end, as Carl drives off, they're dabbing at their eyes with,
and delicately honking into, matching pale pink lace hankies.

"So beautiful."

"So sad."

"So boring," I say. "Seriously, girls, you made me waste an entire
weekend writing this soap-Oprah crap."

"It is not boring! It is essential character development!"

"There's crucial plot exposition!"

"Maybe even foreshadowing!"

"It introduces badly needed emotional tension!"

"'Emotional tension' my fat hairy...wait. Whatya mean, 'badly needed'?"

"We think the next chapter should be about Lynn's struggle with the
justice system."

"Hm, not bad, lesbos in prison have always been popular..."

"No, no, we mean her struggle to recover her identity...

"...in the face of patriarchal oppression which can only...."

"Girls, girls, look at our audience."

There is a slight pause.

"Are those Cheetos? Why does he have Cheetos in his...oh, yuck! That's
disgusting!"

"Oh. My. God. Is Windex now prescription only? Clean your screens,
guys. Go to not4chan, and think of it as polishing the lolis instead
of your...."

"My point is, girls, we cannot keep going on about baby care. Or
guys crying. While our belove-ed readers are, by and large, very
sophisticated porcines, it is also true that they have...needs."

"Soap's...not that hard to get, these days."

"That one NEEDS a spackle knife. For his face."

"Damn it, can we stay on track here? You said I had to write this
crap before you'd give me any more of the good stuff. Fine. I wrote
it. Now I want more good stuff."

"We said you had to post it."

"You didn't post it yet."

"'Haven't posted it'."

"'Haven't posted it.' Thank you, Ms. Tightass Teacher Lady Ma'am."

"Better believe it, Missy, and if you don't, you can put your hands
on the evidence Right. Here."

"Uh, huh. I think I have some long sleeved heavy rubber gloves, for,
you know, giving cows rectal exams."

"Listen, Little Miss Rack'o'ribs, if you think...."

"Order! Order! Please! Listen, I typed it out, just like you said,
OK? It's there. Ready to go. Give me some more of the good stuff,
please, and I'll put it all up together, I promise. I just need to
make sure that you haven't left me in the middle of a desert I can't
write my way out of. And in any case, dammit, I need at least one
more good chapter so we don't lose our audience completely. One more
chapter. Please? Notice I'm saying 'please', here."

"The good stuff."

"The good stuff, yes. I want carpet munching, or something like."

"I don't have a carpet. You only gave me a doormat, and not much of
that. See?"

"Er...Stop trying to distract me. How about... muffin munching?."

"I've already got cupcakes! What, you gonna rename me Dolly Madison? I
draw the line at Little Debbie, fair warning."

"Be happy I didn't give you raisins."

"What is it with you guys and food? I'll never be able to eat Cheetos
again."

"Fine, then, fine, decide on the nomenclature off-line and get back
to me, OK? Look, I want at least one more chapter, a nice hot one,
or so help me, I'll do an afternoon tutoring session."

"Ooh, classroom discipline can be fun."

"Yeah, that's easy for the teacher to say."

"Math. I'm thinking...quadratic equations. Wait, matrix algebra. No
calculators allowed."

"Uh..."

"We never said we didn't like munching."

"Munching is good."

"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to munch we go!"

"Mmm, digging and delving. Munching and digging and delving."

"That's the spirit! Here's the deal: I'll write all the soap-opera
you want, but I won't post a word of it till I get the good squishy,
and soon. Either make me need my Windex, or study up on determinants
and inversions. Your choice."

"Right away, Boss!"

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Pervert, Sir!"

"That's what I like to hear. Goest thou forth, my beauties, and render
unto me, thy Lord and Master, your sublime squishyness!"

"Uh, Boss?

"Yes, Claire?"

"One little favor?"

"Anything for you, Claire. You know how greatly I respect your
insightful contributions to our little talks."

"Could you clean up your office? I'm really tired of hanging out in
this sty."

"Oink, oink. Now git! Shoo!"

There are two resounding swats, two fetching yelps, and then,
blessedly, the words begin to flow.

===

Real-world, true fact: After Carl drove off, I could not figure out
how to do the next chapter for two days.

Then, while I was over at my Mom's fixing her stove, this conversation
happened in my head, and immediately after, chapter 3 actually started
to gel. Weird.

Subsequent delays are my fault, not that of my muses. Half the problem
has been deciding what to keep and what to throw away.

"Yeah, like that great scene where Claire pees on...."

"Shush! The mike's back on, you little fluffhead!"

"Not my fau...."

*click*



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