The Mad Time God makes some changes

I, the Mad Time God, look upon the timeline before me. Something is not right. At first, I cannot name the problem. Then revelation shines upon me. A wave of my hand summons a mortal into my presence. Let’s call her Petunia.

Petunia: Um, hello?

Mad Time God (that’s me): Ah yes, Petunia, so good to see you. How’s the husband?

P: He’s —

MTG (not looking up from laptop): Good, great, super. Listen, I’m going to make you a platypus, okay?

P: What?

MTG: Platypus. Egg-laying mammal, lives in Australia. Don’t worry, I won’t make you live there. But the platypus thing is firm.

P: I’m okay staying human, thanks. (looking around for an exit)

MTG: Oh, that’s so cute. You act like you’ve always been human. Trust me, you’ll love the change. Really fleshes out your character arc.

P: But what about my husband?

MTG: No, he can’t be a platypus, that makes no sense whatsoever. (taps chin) I might be persuaded to make him an echidna, for the right price…

P: No, I’m saying I don’t think he wants a platypus for a wife.

MTG: Isn’t that the point? I’m not supposed to make it easy for you mortals, right?

P: Well, you could if you wanted.

MTG: NO. NOT FUN. NOT INTERESTING. (slams laptop closed) Now go get ready for platypusification. (waves hand, Petunia vanishes)

Some time passes. Looking at the timeline, frowning, still perturbed. Again I wave my hand, and again Petunia is beside me.

MTG: Changed my mind.

P: (looking relieved) Oh, good. I wasn’t looking forward to being a platypus.

MTG: Hmm? Oh, no, that’s still going forward. Tested well in focus groups. Can’t disappoint. No, I’m just altering the beginning of your story. Here’s a copy for you, and one for your hubby. (hands over two paperclipped packets)

P: (reading through the packet) You can’t be serious.

MTG: I’m rarely serious.

P: I mean you can’t really be considering —

MTG: I’m not considering anything. It’s done.

P: But — but — this changes the story entirely!

MTG: Yes? So?

P: All those scenes lost. Motivations changed. New settings. What happened to the climax?

MTG: Misplaced it. I’m sure it will turn up eventually.

P: I can’t allow this to —

MTG: Silly platypus, you have no free will! Now off with you. I have to brush my teeth and it creeps me out when people watch. (wave of the hand, Petunia vanishes, etc.) Wait, that’s not true. I love it when people watch me brush my teeth. Washing my feet, that’s what I was thinking of. Oh well. I’ll do it solo this once.

# # #

Just a little dramatization of my editing process for my latest story. Identities changes to protect the innocent.

I didn’t actually turn a character into a platypus, but I did change a fundamental part of her during the first draft, completely changing the story and, in fact, making it weirder. Well, maybe. It depends on your definition.

Changing the beginning of the story, now that part is true. It has created an entirely new timeline. Now, many of the events remain unchanged or only slightly modified, but others have more dramatic differences. The climax of the story isn’t different, but the lead-up to it, the motivations, have changed. And all it took was one tweak, one event changed, to start the domino effect.

It made more work for me, but I hope it is worth it. Really started editing today after several days of planning and re-planning. Hope to have the second draft done by Friday.


Socially Awkward Guide to Meeting Someone New

There are about seven billion humans on the planet. Chances are you’ll have to meet someone once in awhile. If only the apes would hurry up and rise against us, thinning our numbers, maybe I could finally avoid encountering strangers ever again.

A guy can dream. I’ll take a tapir uprising if that’s all that’s available. Just get it done.

Anyway, until that happens, you’d best learn the right way to introduce yourself. Read on and be amazed. Or slightly impressed. Or confused. I’ll let you choose.

So, you’re meeting someone new. Maybe someone is introducing you to each other at a party you’ve been dragged to, or it’s a new face at work and you have managed to avoid them most of the day until a shared lunch break. What to do, what to do? Do this.

Keep your hands at your sides and hope the person doesn’t go in for a handshake.

It seems like the older I get, the more likely it is that the people I meet are the handshaking type. I’ll probably have to shake everyone’s hand once I’m a senior, even people I know. That’s going to suck. Maybe I can lose my hands before then and get them replaced with lobster claws like Dr. Zoidberg. Anyway, maybe you’ll get lucky and manage to avoid touching a stranger if you just don’t move your arms.

Dr. Zoidberg

Hey, as long as I’m modeling myself after this fine gentleman, maybe i should get an ink sac installed, as well. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Crap, they’re reaching out to you. The expectation. The pressure. Fine, shake the person’s hand, but make it as unpleasant for them as you can.

How can they expect a firm handshake when they come at you like that? A guy needs time to prepare! Just put your hand in his and let him do all the work. Don’t squeeze, don’t pump. Work up some defensive palm sweat. It will be over soon. Oh, and if they’re a “hugger,” throw down a smoke bomb and run. There’s something wrong with people who hug strangers.

When the awkward silence falls, and it will, keep it going as long as you can and ruin all attempts at small talk.

Don’t ask question. Don’t you dare. It’s your job to minimize chatter until you can escape. Aim for monosyllabic answers, grunts, and vague hand gestures. Forget anything interesting about yourself and share the boring and generic stuff. Don’t worry, it’s almost over. Light at the end of the tunnel and all that.

Forget the person’s name and face as soon as they are gone.

You’ll probably never see him again, so don’t waste brain power memorizing any of his details. Congratulate yourself on making it to the end of the ordeal. Treat yourself to a piece of cake. Oh, hell, have two, they’re small.

Encounter the person again in the future and make it obvious that you’re forgotten everything about him.

Crap.


Beyond the Cellphone: Avoiding Eye Contact on the Street

If everyone walked in the same direction all the time, as only makes sense, this wouldn’t be an issue. However, fact is that there are troublemakers out there who walk the wrong way, and this leads to eye contact on the street, in the mall, wherever walking happens. Eye contact with a stranger. My dear god. I need a moment, excuse me….

*takes a swig from a flask, shudders*

Now, my preferred solution is to sic my cyborg wombat on them (I call her the Womborg, and she’s really just a big sweetie). Most people just pretend to look at their cellphone in this situation, though. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s simple, it works.

It’s boring.

Come on, seriously. Doing what everyone else does — are you a robot, a sheep, or a robot sheep? No! You must stand up and say, “I am a MAN!” Or “I am a WOMAN!” Or “I am OF INDETERMINATE GENDER BUT AM STILL A VALID HUMAN BEING!” So, in the interest of more varied self-expression, let me offer some suggestions on interesting ways to avoid eye contact while not appearing impolite. These have a certain dramatic panache that elevate social awkwardness to an art.

Finger trap

Chinese finger trap (also known as Chinese fin...

A moment of silence for those who lost their lives to these things. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I first encountered one of these devilish devices, I couldn’t get free for almost two weeks before I figured out the solution: plunging my hands into a vat of acid. Now I can remember how to do it by looking at the scars. It’s the perfect way to avoid eye contact, because really, who is going to interrupt someone fighting for their very life? Horrible things, finger traps. Should be outlawed, really. But since they’re not, make them work for you. Don’t forget to stock up on acid.

Knitting

A little dexterity is helpful in working with ...

It is known as a gentleman’s art. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Knitting is exciting to watch — I send daily letters to the International Olympic Committee, suggesting with no hint of threat whatsoever that they should add it to both the Summer and Winter Olympics. Somehow, most people don’t agree with me. So, it’s a good way to keep your eyes on your hands, as well as make yourself some nice things.

Just don’t make anything too interesting, like a machete cozy. People notice stuff like that. Freelance knitters are in high demand, too, so you may get job offers if you’re too good.

Human Statue

English: Human miner statue at the Feria de Hi...

Truly, it is a glamorous life. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is an advanced technique. Do NOT try if you are not ready. If you have the heart of a beast it takes to pull this off, read on.

Surely you’ve seen those street performers that paint themselves to look like statues, or at least have heard of them? Or perhaps you belong to their shadow organization that pulls the strings of all the puppet governments (all of the governments)? You didn’t hear that from me. Anyway, just do like they do, except don’t have a cup or hat for tips. That’s a dead giveaway. Also, since you will have to freeze whenever you see someone, this isn’t recommended if you are in a hurry to get somewhere.

What’s that? Oh, do you think it’s easy, being a statue? Try it. Freeze right now. Don’t give me that weak “freeze tag” freeze, you maggot. If you’re going to do this, you need to be so convincing a pigeon will land on you and take a crap. If you’re not covered in pigeon excrement, sir or madam, then you are failing!

Talk to the voices

Original image description from the Deutsche F...

You fool. The only thing that stops the voices are the pills, and you flushed those in the toilet. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I know, I know, you’ve spent years learning to behave like the voices aren’t there. Your facial expression doesn’t even twitch when they whisper their inscrutable secrets, or urge you to perform those dark, thrilling acts. Why acknowledge them now? Because damn it, they take up room in your mind rent-free. Time they earned their keep. This works on two levels: 1) It will scare away those who have not the gift of True Hearing; and 2) Those who do have the Gift won’t interrupt your conversation because that’s a breach of etiquette.

I suppose you could do this with a friend instead of the voices, but my research hasn’t told me where to find one of those, so I can’t help you. *wipes away lonely tears*


Socially Awkward Guide to Greeting Customers

I thought I could use another series of posts to keep me busy, and hopefully to keep readers entertained, so here’s the first of my guides for the Socially Awkward (capitalized because it is a prestigious title).

For those in the retail game, customers are as inevitable as dropping bread butter side down or tripping over a cat in the dark. The first step to handling them is the greeting. It is a first step that itself involves many, many more steps, and god help you if you mess up even one. Okay, calm down, breathe. Just do what I say and everything will be all right. Relatively speaking. I mean, the world will keep spinning, birds will keep singing, that sort of thing. Whether you will be all right is another matter entirely.

Just…just keep reading. Trust me.

1. Spot customer approaching.

As one of the Socially Awkward, you have an uncanny sense of someone approaching you. Kind of like how a spider feels a vibration in its web to let it know a fly is trapped, except in this case, it’s you who are trapped.

2. Pray they don’t come any closer.

Some save prayer for a last resort, the Hail Mary pass. But why save the big guns for later? You never know, it could work. Best to mutter aloud so people can overhear you and look at you funny.

3. Prayer fails, offer soul pacts to any nearby demons

You may need to play some Ozzy Osbourne backwards to get their attention. Don’t bother with “Crazy Train.” That just recites a shopping list. Fun fact: Ozzy needed eggs.

4. Give up on divine/infernal intervention. Prepare for (shudder) human interaction.

Entertain thoughts about how you’d rather deal with the demon. Then again, remind yourself that the it might have wanted to make small talk. Nothing worse than a chatty demon.

5. Ten-foot rule.

When a customer is within ten feet of you, that’s usually a good distance to greet them. If they try to get closer, you could always step back or poke them with your ten-foot pole. You brought your ten-foot pole, didn’t you? Come on, this is standard equipment! You’d better have one next time I see you.

6. Debate the meaning of “ten foot”.

What are you, a tape measure? It’s hard to judge distance accurately. If they’re nine feet away, you have plausible deniability.

7. Okay, okay, they’re close enough, damn it. How else can you stall for time?

There’s a display between you? Um, that breaks the imaginary ten-foot line between you, rendering it void. Yeah, that’s a good one. They’re talking to a friend or on the phone? It’s rude to interrupt. Manners give you lots of good excuses. Oh look, those items are crooked. You’ll say hello after you fix them.

8. Stalling can only go so far. Time to do this. Say “hello.”

While a more complicated greeting gives you more opportunity for screwing up and looking like a doofus (stuttering is a classic), don’t underestimate what you can accomplish with something short and sweet. Try “hello.” Now, you have to say it right. Try this: draw out the second syllable much too long. Also, make the “o” sound more like “ew.” Helleeeewww. Nailed it. You’ll know you did it right if the customer pauses before returning your greeting, as if uncertain he heard you correctly.

9. Mission accomplished. Make just enough conversation to cover up your shame, then get the hell out of there.

Pretend you have an earpiece and you’re receiving instructions to go elsewhere. Run. Don’t look back. Don’t stop if anyone calls out for you, just run, you fool! Find one of the hiding places you’ve discovered around the store (if you haven’t found them yet, or made them if you’re an advanced student of the Awkward Art, you need to check your priorities, friend) and hunker down for awhile until your disgrace becomes bearable. If you see the customer again, pretend you don’t.


Awkward Hawk, issue #1: Beware the Stare of Dr. Gorgon

Okay, here’s the first in my “Awkward Hawk” series. As I have it planned, each will be a vignette based on one of my socially awkward quirks. Afterward, in case the quirk was not made obvious by the tale (And if that’s the case, what kind of writer am I?), I’ll offer a brief explanation. Let’s get to it already!

WARNING: It turned out longer than anticipated. Advance at your own risk.

Awkward Hawk

Issue #1

Beware the Stare of Dr. Gorgon”

I didn't mean to scare you.

(Picture by electricbill on Flickr)

Dr. Gorgon strolls through the garden of statues clogging Main Street. She peers into cars to see stone drivers and passengers. There’s even a dog statue lifting its leg on a tree. If that isn’t proof of her villainy, I don’t know what is. That dog has to hold it in for who knows how long.

Hurts me just to think about it. Hold on, I’m taking a bathroom break before I continue this narration…. Okay, I’m good.

Nobody can challenge me,” the bad doctor whispers with a smile, then pauses. “Oh, wait, Daring Demon would be a nuisance, being blind and everything. But he’s in New York, so it’s moot. Nobody else can challenge me!”

A pigeon, being unobservant, suicidal, or both, chooses that time to take off from a windowsill. Dr. Gorgon’s gaze swivels in its direction, and she whips off her tinted goggles. The pigeon’s eyes meet hers. Flesh becomes stone, and the pigeon statue plummets to the street, sure to smash upon impact.

That is, it would have, if Awkward Hawk didn’t come swooping down to catch it just in time. Hawk sets it down on the sidewalk. Does a pigeon count as a full life saved? he wonders. Eh, I’m going to say yes. What, is someone going to audit me? He takes out a notepad and adds a tally on the “lives saved” page. After a brief struggle with conscience, he puts a tiny asterisk next to it. Best play it safe.

Really?” Dr. Gorgon scoffs. She has replaced her goggles. Sure, she’ll take them off again when she wants to finish Hawk off, but it’s only polite to allow for banter and/or monologuing. “Awkward Hawk comes to stand against me? Was the Gilded Grasshopper busy? Don’t you have a cave to hide in?”

For your information, it’s being fumigated, and Grasshopper has a dentist appointment. But I would have come anyway!”

I’m certain.” The doctor sits on a car hood and crosses her legs.

So what’s your plan, Gorgon?” Hawk asks. “You aren’t the type for harming the innocent unless there’s profit involved. Where’s the profit here?”

I had a grand speech prepared, you know,” Dr. Gorgon says. “Embellished the affair a bit. But since it’s just you, I’ll give you the Cliffs Notes version. Did you attend the city council meeting about the road work they planned for next week on this street?”

I think my perfect attendance at council meetings is public record.”

Ah, good. That’s it.”

That’s – what?”

I’ve clogged the street with human statues so they can’t do it.”

But why?”

Because I live right there,” Gorgon points at an apartment building just down the street, “and I work nights, so it would keep me awake.”

Wow. Effective.”

I know, right?” Dr. Gorgon slides off the hood. “Well, it’s been a nice chat and everything, but let’s finish this.”

Good. I was hoping to get to Subway before the lunchtime rush.”

Dr. Gorgon lifts her goggles and stares at Hawk, anticipating his fate as her newest statue. It would be a good one, too, what with the wings and all. Maybe she’d sell that one to an art gallery and pretend she sculpted it. She was preoccupied trying to think of a name for the sculpture, so she didn’t notice Awkward Hawk walking towards her, not turning to stone at all. She settles on “An Angel Falls” when she finally comes to her senses and sees Hawk standing right in front of her. “You’re not stone,” she says.

No, thankfully, I am not.”

But how? My power is irresistible. I could turn an elephant to stone!”

Have you?”

It’s theoretical, but the math supports the hypothesis. How are you doing this?

I dunno.”

Wait – hey, you’re not even looking at me.”

Um, nope, I’m not.”

Have you even looked at me since we’ve been talking?”

Hawk fidgets. If he wasn’t already looking away, he would do it now in embarrassment. “Maybe not.”

That’s just rude.”

Not as rude as your stony gaze, villain!” He was already embarrassed, so he figures he can get away with that line.

Damn it, come here and look at me, coward.” The doctor grabs his face and tried to turn it so their eyes meet. Awkward Hawk struggles, as I’m sure you’ll agree is a good idea in the situation. As they struggle, he twists away rather violently and ends up clipping her with a wing. She goes down without further fight.

Awkward Hawk hasn’t noticed yet, as he is crouching in the street with his arms flung over his face. When he finally peeks out and sees the unconscious villain, he simply says, “Well, this is awkward.”

* * *

And there you have it. So what is the social quirk this is based on? If you guessed “corny one-liners,” you’d be wrong. It’s all about my aversion to eye contact. I can make eye contact, and frequently do. It just makes me uncomfortable for some reason. When I’m talking to someone, I’ll often look off to the side. I’m sure it makes me seem rude (as many of my quirks probably do), but I swear I’m just weirdly shy.

Wow. This turned out longer than I planned. I expected just a piece of a scene – maybe a bit of comic action with some dialogue. Ended up with some bona fide flash fiction over here. As fun as it was, I’m not sure future installments will be as long. I was also considering playing around with a script format (something I haven’t done before). We’ll see. I hope anyone brave enough to read the whole thing enjoyed it.


Finding the Time to Write: Getting Desperate

Oh, fartnozzles.

*coughs and waves away smoke*

Time machines are hard work, you guys. The chrono-matrix is too damn delicate. I just can’t get it to balance.

Crap-packets! *kicks things*

Why do I need a time machine? Why, to find the time to write, of course! Time is the one resource I cherish above all others, and, of course, it is a resource I cannot renew. Unless I get this piston-licking time machine to stop breaking down. Man, this is what I get for buying generic parts. When you buy a brand name, you buy a reputation for excellence.

Earthworm (Family: Megascolecidae)

Maybe I need to look into wormholes. But what do worms know about time travel? They haven’t shared their secrets with me yet. Bastards. (Photo credit: Arthur Chapman)

Since I rekindled my creative interests, almost every hard-won moment has gone towards writing. However, it is still not enough. I need more, more, more. So, in between my attempts to transcend linear time, I’ve analyzed the opportunities in my routine to find where I might wring out more time for my writing, like a sweet juice made from the rarest deep-sea fish. Mmm, time is salty and bioluminescent.

Here’s the list, with pros and cons.

Not grooming

PRO: Palpable aura will keep people away, limiting distractions.

CON: Beard may achieve sentience, given enough time and exposure to dangerous levels of funk. Could become adversarial.

Die Gartenlaube (1874) b 061

And then THIS happens. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Blending all meals and drinking them as nutritious shakes

PRO: Don’t have to wait until the end for dessert.

CON: The blender will drown out the screams that usually go with my meal preparation. Oh, the screams.

Bear Bones

Note to self: do bones blend? (Photo credit: Travis S.)

Not changing clothes

PRO: The crust that forms will eventually become hard enough to serve as armor, defending me against assassination attempts by rival writers.

CON: Shirt designs will fade with time. How will people know about my fandom of Go-Bots if it’s not right there on my chest?

Eschewing clothing entirely

PRO: Gives the whole world what it’s been asking for all these years.

CON: The map tattoo on my *REDACTED* would be visible to all, and the treasure it leads to would be in danger.

http://www.wpclipart.com/money/. Per the licen...

The real treasure, of course, is my glorious nudity. Not pictured (though it does gleam just like that). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Faking my own kidnapping

PRO: Could end up on news. Free publicity!

CON: Initial investment for magazines to cut out letters for ransom note. Too rich for my blood.

Micro-naps throughout the day (by blinking slightly longer) instead of sleeping all in one go

PRO: The night terrors will be much shorter now.

CON: Will have to cut up the sleeping pills into very, very small portions.

Hiring a proxy to handle conversations for me

PRO: Could probably find someone more personable (though not handsomer) than me.

CON: Trial run with hand puppet yielded unfavorable results and a lifetime ban from TGI Friday’s. Uncertain if flesh puppet (as I would call the proxy) would be an improvement.

Cheese and bacon potato skins at TGI Friday's

The truth about the potato skins had to be told, and I regret NOTHING. (Photo credit: Scorpions and Centaurs)

Constructing a robot to go to work for me
PRO: Having a synthetic son could earn me some sort of amnesty when Skynet goes online.

CON: Robot might do my job better than me, wounding my soft, squishy ego.

Cutting down on unnecessary internet time

PRO: There are no pros.

CON: It is all cons.


Introducing “Awkward Hawk, the Socially Awkward Superhero!”

I don’t know you that well, reader, but I feel like we have this – this connection. I feel like I can trust you. I wouldn’t loan you money or give you a key to my house or anything – we’re not at that level yet so stop smothering me. I do feel like I can share a secret, though, and here it is.

I live a double life. At home, in the comfort of my cave, I am the mild-mannered writer/blogger/amateur mind reader you’ve come to adore, or at least tolerate. When I step out into the world and interact with what we will loosely call humans, though, I transform. I become…

Awkward Hawk, the Socially Awkward Superhero!

I will give you a moment to adjust your worldview. Good? Okay.

Yeah, I lack social grace. I was okay as a kid, but as I mature like a fine boxed wine, I increasingly embody the shy introvert archetype. It can actually be painful if I let myself dwell on it.

Classy.

So painful I might need one of these to black out for a bit. It’s okay, because if it’s a metaphor for myself, it’s like drinking my own tears or blood. That’s normal, right?

This is why I’m going to write some (hopefully) humorous posts about the many quirks that make up my condition. Because sure, I may suffer, but you can have a laugh about it! It’s cheaper than therapy. Well, cheaper monetarily speaking. Probably more costly in mental scarring.

I will begin the actual series soon (Maybe later this week?). For now, enjoy a brief glimpse of the superhero that will win the hearts of the people, even while not answering their calls and letting them go to voicemail.

*   #   *

A casual observer would take the young (-ish) man as a typical guy. No, not even that. Unremarkable. Easily forgotten when not in sight. Could use a new pair of shoes.

Certainly not the kind of man with…a secret identity.

He sits in his home, lazily surfing the net – I mean, studiously doing research for his next great story. The computer screen’s glare leaves a faint green ghost on his glasses (which do not make him look like a hipster, so don’t even).

His phone buzzes and flashes red, breaking the peace. His demeanor goes from casual to business casual, and his eyes focus like a raptor’s. He punches the button to answer. “State your emergency. Yes. Yes. Okay. Rest easy. I’m on my way. Try not to provoke him until I get there. Then you can provoke him all you want.”

Tossing the phone aside, he leaps to his feet. A burst of electric blue energy envelops him, and he becomes…

Awkward Hawk, the Socially Awkward Superhero!

He unfurls the wings that now spread from his shoulders. They are unkempt, ungainly, and some say one is shorter than the other, but they are just jealous. “I’m a real fly guy!” he cries, not regretting the pun, never regretting it. Awkward Hawk launches into the air, on the way to heroic adventures…in awkwardness!

Majestically awkward

This didn’t take me five minutes to make, no sir!
…It took thirty-seven minutes and four drafts.