If you have not read Misadventures in Editing: The Crossover – amariesilver’s blog post from December 14 – you may not understand the following narrative. You can find her excellent tale here: https://amariesilver.wordpress.com/2015/12/14/misadventures-in-editing-the-crossover/
I have not been inebriated since high school, which was more years ago than I’ll ever admit. I had forgotten what it felt like. Dang that A. Marie!
“Have another” she said.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s mostly fruit juice.”
“It doesn’t taste like fruit juice!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Marge, would you, for once in your life, just loosen up and have a little fun?”
Fun evidently included dancing on the tables until Morris, the bartender, requested we leave. I think. I really can’t remember.
I don’t remember stumbling home and crawling into bed, either. What I do remember is waking up thinking I was in the middle of an earthquake. It turned out to be just my favorite elven cleric, frantically shaking me awake.
“Conference room. Now!” she commanded, trying to keep her voice low, so she wouldn’t wake my husband who was snoring loudly next to me.
As I slowly focused, I noticed her cornflower-blue eyes were wide with uncharacteristic fear. “Oh, no,” I groaned. “What’s that arrogant elf done now? Didn’t I tell him no more staff meetings unless I was the one who scheduled them?”
“It’s not him,” she whispered.
In response, she handed me my robe and tugged me out of bed. She had dragged me halfway to the conference room before I managed to wrench my arm free. She had a surprisingly strong grip for an imaginary elf.
“Suppose you just tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.
“We have company.”
“I’m not entirely sure, but the belligerent one in the peasant top, flowing skirt, and a belt full of bells says she’s a Wiccan.”
A Wiccan? I groaned. I had a bad feeling I knew who our visitors were.
I opened the door to the conference room and saw a bunch of A. Marie’s characters terrorizing mine.
The Wiccan…Cecilia? Clementine?
“Celeste!” she shot at me. Dang! Is mindreading a Wiccan ability?
Anyway, CELESTE was playing handball with my dragon. Let me clarify – she and my dragon were not playing handball together, she was batting my dragon around, bouncing him off the walls.
“Palmer,” he informed me indignantly.
Oh, great, they’re all mindreaders!
DR. PALMER had wriggled out of his straight jacket and was chasing my elven king around. Whether he was attempting to have a conversation with the royal personage, or assassinate him, was not immediately apparent. His Royal Highness was managing to keep two steps ahead of the Doctor, so it seemed a moot point.
“Amethyst!” she yelled at me.
Right, AMETHYST! Amethyst was…well…I’m not quite sure what Amethyst was doing, but she seemed to have several of my characters cowed in the far corner of the room. I stared at them for several long minutes before I stopped trying to figure out just what was going on. Maybe ignorance really is bliss.
“Okay, this has gone on long enough. Listen up!” I screeched over the general din in the room.”
All activity stopped, and all eyes were on me. It was more than a tad uncomfortable, as some of the looks I was getting seemed absolutely malevolent…and those looks were from my own characters!
“Everyone vacate the premises. Immediately!” I tried to sound authoritative. I failed, miserably. The characters ignored me and resumed their various activities.
“Immediately!” I yelled again. “A. Marie’s characters go home. My characters go back to…to…to wherever it is you hang out between staff meetings.” I concluded lamely.
CELESTE approached me, her hard eyes narrowing. “You’re as bad as A. Marie! You don’t even know where your characters live when you’re too busy to write!”
“Out!” I commanded, refusing to be drawn into this particular discussion.
“Celeste!” she reminded me forcefully! “C-E-L-E-S-T-E. How hard is that to remember?”
If she had to ask that question, it was obvious A. Marie had never taken her out drinking!
Anyway, CELESTE seemed loath to drop the subject of my knowledge (or lack thereof) of my own characters. Luckily, A. Marie chose that moment to burst through the conference room door and throw a net over her characters.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes averted and her cheeks aflame.
“No need to be so embarrassed,” I assured her. “That’s just what happens when we leave our children unattended.”
A. Marie nodded glumly, then departed with her disgruntled characters in tow.
My characters raced out of the room, back to the relative safety of the pages of their books.
I wearily headed back to bed, vowing to assert more control over my characters in the future. I also vowed to stay away from beverages that were mostly fruit juice, and from tabletops.
If you’d like to see whose characters visit in future episodes, feel free to stop back from time to time. I’ll leave the porch light on for you. Just, please, no playing handball with the dragon.
My thanks to A. Marie Silver and the characters from her NA Paranormal series-in-progress, for their gracious appearance in this week’s blog post. When A. Marie and I aren’t dancing on tabletops, or trying to control our miscreant characters, she is a busy lady – a wife, a mother of two, an editor for Pilcrow & Dagger (http://www.pilcrowdagger.com/), and a writer working on her first novel. Remember to check out her blog: https://amariesilver.wordpress.com/2015/12/14/misadventures-in-editing-the-crossover/