Cookie Monster (Life is a Roller Derby Run by a Sphinx Preview!)

Hello everyone! I hope you have all had more fabulous weeks than the thought of the Democratic National Convention reenacted by William Shatner impersonators. 

Well, we are getting close to the release of Life is a Roller Derby Run by a Sphinx and so this week I wanted to give you a quick taste of what is to come. So for your reading pleasure, ripped directly from the pages of my next book, is Chapter 27: Cookie Monster.

27. Cookie Monster 

Some children are lovely little gifts from heaven. Other kids are more like trials sent to test parents’ perseverance, cunning and ability to get crayon off of a variety of surfaces. 

         I was more of the latter; I pretended to be a dinosaur during church, thought I was a Power Ranger and World Wrestling Federation wrestler all rolled into one (that poor furniture) and built very elaborate spaceships from everyday items and sometimes essential machine parts. 

         Not only was I handful, I was a rather clever one. I had learned to read at an early age and by the time I turned four I already had most of the Nancy Drew, The Boxcar Children and The Hardy Boys under my literary belt. Add in the fact that I watched as many episodes of Murder, She Wrote and Matlock as I could find, and I was a regular criminal mastermind in the making. I gobbled up mystery stories faster than the newest Lone Ranger movie bombed and was forgotten.

Out soon!!!

         Of course, with my rambunctious little brain, I began to wonder if I could pull of a caper that not even Nancy Drew or Jessica Fletcher could solve! 

  

          I plotted, I planned, I drew schematics, I built models of vaults and banks out of Legos.

           Now keep in mind, at four years old you really don’t have to have an exact goal in mind. I wasn’t out to steal the Hope Diamond or ransack a museum for priceless art. I was just plotting crime in general.

           

           My parents, knowing I lacked the income and resources to pull off a liquor store robbery, much less a fantastical heist, weren’t too concerned about my little ‘flights of fancy’ into the heinous world of crime.

          

           I knew that my plans could succeed, as a Brain without a Pinky could, if only I had a goal to focus them on.

Then came the day my mother made her wonderfully delicious peanut-butter-chocolate-chip cookies. These cookies are melt-in-your-mouth good. If we could give these cookies out to every world leader simultaneously, there would be World Peace, because it’s impossible to feel aggressive or angry while eating one. 

She baked an entire batch in the afternoon, and I had been granted one cookie. The rest, she informed me, would have to wait until after dinner. I tried to reason with her, dinner was a full two hours away. My pleas went unanswered. I watched sorrowfully as my mom put every remaining cookie into the giant strawberry shaped cookie jar far back on the kitchen counter and wandered off to do something else. 

I stood in the kitchen staring daggers at that cookie jar, reveling in how unfair the situation was. I could still smell the cookies, and still had the taste of peanut butter and chocolate in my mouth. 

Suddenly, it hit me like a Mac truck hits a sleeping armadillo, this is what I had been scheming for! This was my crime of the century! Well… at least crime of the day… let’s be real here. 

I ran back to my room digging through my catapult designs, ideas for a mind-control laser and blueprints of someone else’s house that I had found while playing outside one day. None of it seemed to help my cookie situation. 

I snuck back towards the kitchen to do some reconnaissance. Crawling, army-style on my belly, I crept down the hallway, listening intently for any adults. No one was about. I stood up and wandered towards the kitchen counter, realizing that I was far shorter than it was and the cookie jar was all the way back on the counter near the wall.nMy thoughts turned to the kitchen chairs, which could be drug over, but I needed to determine where my mom was first, in case the noise would alert her. 

I found my mom in the living room folding clothing. I nonchalantly wandered in, “Hi mom, you don’t have any reason to go to the kitchen anytime soon do you?” 

My mother’s eyes narrowed, “Why?” 

“No reason,” I said as I darted away, congratulating myself on not making her suspicious at all. 

Back in the kitchen, I planned my route of entry. The chair would be too loud to drag, but if I opened the drawers like stairs, I could probably climb up relatively easily. 

I wandered back down towards my mother, who, still folding clothes, was now surely listening intently for something to explode. Again, as casually as I could, I asked, “Hey mom, you don’t have a reason to be in the kitchen, right?” 

My mom blinked at me a couple of times, “Is there something on fire in the kitchen? Should I be in the kitchen right now?” 

“Nope! Was just wondering!” I said, skipping back down the hallway, again impressed with my own dramatic non-mom-worrying skills.

I checked to make sure the coast was clear, and then I opened the first drawer. I looked around; no one seemed to be rushing down the hall. I slid open the second drawer, nothing. I flung the remaining drawers open with wild abandon and stepped up onto the counter.

There it was, the strawberry cookie jar, in all its red glory.

I lifted the lid and found a veritable dragon’s hoard of amazing luscious little treats inside.

I’ve never been a dainty person. The cookie carnage I unleashed would have made the Cookie Monster seem civilized by comparison. I stuffed, I crammed, I smeared. I had chocolate on my face, cookie crumbs in my hair and peanut butter residue on every piece of clothing I was wearing. The spoils of my crime were sweet, soft and delicious.

I was about halfway through enjoying cookie number seven when I heard it, “Allison, what are you doing on the counter?”

         

          Turning, my mouth absolutely stuffed with cookie, I blinked at my mother. How had she caught me? I had made sure to fool her into thinking that nothing was wrong in the kitchen! Why was she here!? There was still thirty minutes until dinner!

          

         She stood, hands on hips, surveying the disastrous scene, “Allison, did you eat cookies out of the cookie jar?”

         

        I blinked. Interrogation was not something that Nancy Drew, Jessica Fletcher or any of the others had ever prepared me for. Mostly they just caught the criminal, the criminal confessed and then they would get a sad, disappointed look from Angela Lansbury. I knew my mother’s punishment wouldn’t be a sad, sympathetic, yet also disappointed look. So I came up with the best Hail-Mary answer I could think up.

          

         “No!” bits of cookie spraying from my mouth, “No! It wasn’t me!”

          

         My mother let out a tiny snort, then collected herself again and said, “Now,” small amount of laughter, followed by a throat clearing, “I’m going to ask you again. Did you eat the cookies?”

         

          Don’t ask me why, even at the age of four I knew there was no logical escape, and yet, I found myself answering, “Nope! Wasn’t me!”

         

          My mother instructed me to come down off the counter and stand there for a minute, she would be right back. I obediently, for once, climbed off of the counter and stood, waiting for my punishment as my mom took long strides towards the hallway.

          

          I realize that she was trying to hide the fact that she was laughing, but I could still hear her. To this day, I will never forget her pained attempts to be a seriously upset parent as she snorted out from behind the wall, “Go,” chuckle, “to your room! Bahahahahahaha!”

         

         So what crumbs of knowledge can be extracted from the cookie jar of experience?

1. Laughter may delay punishment, but the punishment is still forthcoming.

2. If your child is planning heists at the age of four, you might want to pay closer attention to her behavior.

3. Sometimes the best-laid plans end with cookies and grounding.

   

If you want news on the upcoming book you can get updates by liking me on Facebook, following me on Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and follow me on instagram (@AtillaTheHawn)! You can also snatch up my previous two books here!

Totally Rad

Hello! I hope everyone had a fabulous week!

I had a week that pretty much wiped me off of my feet, which is how I ended up, with my trusty Netflix account, watching Beverly Hills Cop.

It had been forever and a day since I'd seen it, but laying there with my nutritional yeast covered popcorn (don't knock it until you try it), watching Eddie Murphy run around shooting people was exactly the therapy my soul needed. The man even makes a car break down by stuffing bananas in the tailpipe. Seriously, what more could you need?

I love films from the 1980's. Despite the crisp, clean, shiny feeling that all new movies seem to have, I still love hearing that synthesizer theme song and terrible dialogue. So, in case you need to be convinced as to why 1980's films are the bomb, here is why I adore them:

1. 1980's film plots didn't have to make sense.

No, seriously, as long as there was dialogue, some form of a climactic story-arc and inspirational sounding synthesizer music you could have written any plot and put it on the screen. And people did.

You want a story about a kid who fakes being sick for a day then runs amok; avoiding his parents and the principal, destroying an expensive car  and somehow managing to hijack a parade float? Sure! We'll give you Ferris Bueller's Day Off!

You want a movie about a teenager trying to win back his girlfriend from a skiing bully? You also desire that this movie include an entire montage of dancing fast food hallucinations that serve no purpose to the plot? Oh, and you also want the movie to be almost entirely comprised of dialogue like this:

Just go watch Better Off Dead!

There is something fantastic about watching a film that had a basic premise that someone just said, "You know what? Maybe we just need to throw a random scene where someone attempts to get high by snorting fully set Jell-o! Oooh! I know! Let's throw in a fanatical, and possibly psychotic, paperboy who will travel to the ends of the earth for two dollars!"

And that is how 1980's film plots pretty much go.

2. Bad guys in the 1980's were completely ineffective at life.

It always amazed me that villains in 1980's action flicks hired the most incompetent henchmen ever. With all the money they were shelling out to employ these losers, you'd think that requirement number one on the job description would be, "Can hold, load and fire a gun and be able to hit the broad side of Texas."

Your generic 1980's bad-guy underling might as well be given a Supersoaker full of bubbles for all the good they did defending their evil overlords. It constantly confounded me while growing up that the bad guys would face off against the hero, empty countless clips and do nothing more than modify the scenery and possibly trim a topiary. Then the hero would step out and basically blindly fire, like the picture to the right, and every human being in a ten mile radius would hit the dirt.

The only time a hero is actually shot is if it makes him or her look more tough, and half the time I think she or he had to jump in front of a bullet to get it to hit them!

3. People were extremely philanthropic in 1980's movies.

Coolest High School Janitor Ever!

Apparently it was normal in the 1980's for some kindly old janitor  at your high school to take you in, train you in some random martial art and then give you a classic car. At least the kid in Karate Kid didn't seem overly surprised about this.

It is also fairly common for a random old scientist to befriend local teenagers and allow them to play with their extremely expensive technical equipment, even when they blow the living crud out of it. After all, that's basically where the plot to Back to the Future came from.

4. The future was so much cooler in the 1980's than it actually turned out to be.

Speaking of Back to the Future where are my flying cars and hoverboards? Also, I think my lightsaber is long overdue and I haven't even heard hints of magical food packets that we can stick in a machine and magically hot and delicious food will pop out. Come on science, get with it!

5. Heroes didn't have to be complex.

While I enjoy my modern renditions of Batman and Spiderman as much as the next person, I also sometimes enjoy just watching mindless destruction at the sake of saving the world. Why does the world need saving? Umm... reasons?

Let's face it they all had reasons to cause wonton destruction (90% of the time it was revenge), but normally those plot devices were kind of lame.

A drug dealer attacks your buddy? You turn in your license to kill and go wipe out the equivalent of the population of a South American country to get your revenge. You also must make at least one building explode and kill a maniacal mastermind. That's it, that's all you need to be a 1980's action hero. No deep, dark secret, no inner-turmoil or conflict. You just need to know you're the good guy, and they are all bad guys.

6. If someone ever needed to train for something, there was always a band nearby to play awesome workout montage music.

Remember this little gem?

How would Sylvester Stallone have ever survived Mr. T without his theme music?

7. Evil masterminds almost always defeated themselves with monologue.

20 Minutes Later...

"Alright Johnny Goodguy, I have you tied to a chair and completely at the mercy of my amazing array of weaponry. Before I kill you however, I am going to explain every last detail of my nefarious plot, taunt you, read you my college dissertation and then show you a slideshow of evil kittens..."

I wonder how many times the world would have been destroyed or taken over if the evil mastermind had just cut out his ten-minute monologue and just shot the hero without further explanation?


 So, what were all of your favorite things about films in the 1980's?

In other news, thank you everyone who put a bid in at the Washington Chapter of the Modified Dolls' auction for the signed copy of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus!" The auction raised quite a bit of money for the Not For Sale Campaign!

As always, I can be found on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Some Days I Feel Like an Animal in the Zoo

Well hello all of my weekday warriors! I'm hoping you all survived the week with relatively few harmful hijinks!

I have just a quick announcement before we get into the meat of this week's post. The Washington Chapter of the Modified Dolls is holding an auction to benefit the Not for Sale Campaign.

The Not for Sale Campaign helps bring awareness to the subject of human trafficking and helps victims of modern-day slavery. The Modified Dolls is a national organization of tattooed women who get together to support worthy causes. So basically, they combine two of my favorite things, altruism with body art!

I have entered a signed copy of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus" into the auction. If you want to enter the bidding click here.

I would also encourage you to check out the other items in the auction, there are some pretty sweet items up for the bidding there and all the proceeds are going to help end human trafficking.

You know those jobs that kids dream about getting when they grow up? Bill Naylor actually got one of those jobs: he has spent much of his life as a zoo keeper.

Not only did Bill spend many years surrounded by exotic animals, he also wrote material for several comedians. So what step can one take after such a varied and prolific career? He decided to write a book. Lucky for you and I, he also agreed to an interview!

Have you ever wondered, could my job get any worse? Bill Naylor's "Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper" pretty much answers that question for you, and the answer is, "Yes, it really, really can."

From being attacked by an amorous duck to explaining the dangers of the cassowary (yes, I had to Google what that was too), Naylor presents a world unfamiliar to most of us as he explains parts of his life as a zookeeper. With pearls of wisdom such as, "...he who hesitates gets bitten," this book flows from one hilarious story to the next. With stories that prove that truth is by far funnier than fiction, "Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper" is sure to make even the most austere person grin.

Here is an interview with author Bill Naylor.

1. How did you get into comedy writing?

I basically rang up producers of TV shows threatening to jump off something high if they didn’t read my scripts. The first joke I sold wasn’t even spoken, it was flashed up on screen. "Wailing Wall for sale, only one previous moaner!” 

2. You've written material for several comedians, which one was your favorite to write for?

I wrote for over a hundred comedians and comedy shows, mainly British, over a twenty year period. So it’s hard to choose one. Les Dawson, Russ Abbot, The Two Ronnies, are ones that stand out. The worse comedy actor I wrote for didn’t know funny from a migraine. When I told him my gag, "never play darts with a guy who has a bald head, he just won’t stick in the board," he said, “Nobody  plays darts with a guy who has a bald head, you use darts.” 

 

3. Of all the animals in the zoo, which was your absolute least favorite and why?

That would be a toss up between a hairy nosed wombat and a hippo. The hippo because they weigh two tons and are mega poop machines. They have a tail shaped like a like a toilet brush and scatter you know what everywhere. In an African river it’s not noticable. But in a zoo? Hippo keepers are equipped with spiked boots and ice axes as every hour they are confronted with a mountain range of  poop.  

The Hairy Nosed Wombat (A.K.A. Houdini)

The other animal I disliked was a  hairy nosed wombat, because I never ever saw the charming animal I looked after. He regularly tunneled out of his enclosure and went  wombat walkabout, The sign on his cage read, “On Tour." He’d usually tunnel into other animals enclosures.  Consequently we had to leave extra food in all the other animal enclosures for HNW. He also had the irritating habit of digging a new tunnel every time he vacated an enclosure. So the zoo section I was responsible for looked like a building site.

 
4. How on the earth did you end up a zookeeper, and how long were you employed as one? 

Had loads of pets, waifs and strays and exotic animals as a boy. “That bloody menagerie,” my dad called it. Started at Chester Zoo England aged sixteen, worked in zoos and wildlife parks around the world till I was fifty something. But also had a parallel career as a writer. Wrote articles on wildlife, which I still do. Have sold short stories, and comedy scripts from the age of thirty.    
   

5. At what point, during your rather tumultuous career, did you stop and say, "I really need to start writing some of this stuff down?"

I always have written ideas down. But realised a few years back, that during my time in zoos I had worked with some strange, bizarre and scary creatures. Mostly humans. So I started to put some stories together. 

6. If you could choose a comedian (not including those you wrote for) to go bowling with, whom would you choose?

My favourite English comedian is Michael Mcintyre. But I’d like to go bowling with a young Jerry Lewis. because in the “Nutty professor” he went down the bowling lane with his finger stuck in the ball, and I’d like to see him do that again. 

7. Are you planning on following up "Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper" with another book?

 I've had a few ideas in the pipeline, and people are keen for “More Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper." I haven't as yet decided.

If you are interested in "Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper" you can check it out on Amazon!

As always, feel free to check out my exploits on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Off To a Magical Land... That I Cannot Pronounce

Ahoy thar all ye scurvy bilge rats!

In honor of it bein' the week of "National Talk Like a Pirate Day," (Sep. 19), I plan on celebratin' in the traditional manner. Yes indeed, I'm gonna join a bunch of scallawags on an old creakin' ship and sing sea shanties as we raid other sailing vessels for their bounty... in the nearest irrigation ditch?

You know, it's hard being a pirate in a land-locked relatively rainless city. I think the closest I could get to true piracy is roving around in an Oldsmobile Cutlass while I shake one of those tiny swords that come in drinks at restaurants menacingly at all of the gang bangers in Escalades. Or maybe I'll just stay at home with a book.

Anyways, that's neither here nor there or even under there.  This week I have the good fortune to have interviewed the two coauthors of the book "A Quest of Undoing: A Tale From the Land of Ononokin," John Logsdon and Christopher Young!

"A Quest of Undoing: A Tale from the Land of Ononokin" is a fantastic read for anyone looking for something on the lighter side of fantasy. Funny, inventive and not laboriously detailed, this is a read that will have you smiling and chuckling the entire way through.

The book successfully parodies other fantasy and adventure staples, such as "Lord of the Rings," while maintaining it's own plot. Set in a rather distinct world, with bizarre characters and an interesting quest, "A Quest of Undoing" sets itself apart from many other works in its genre. 

Overall, this was an enjoyable book that I would recommend to anyone who enjoys any form of fantasy and making unashamed fun of other works.

And here is what our two authors have to say for themselves: 

> What inspired you to start writing?

Chris: I find stories running through my head all the time and since nobody ever listens to me when I talk, I figured writing them out would be the most beneficial means of sharing them. Some of my early influences were Tanith Lee, Marion Zimmer Bradley, and Harry Harrison.

The desire to do comedic writing came from Harry Harrison’s “Stainless Steel Rat” and also the “Myth Adventure” books by Robert Asprin. My true writing adventure started in high school when I would sit down with a pencil and piece of paper and words would pour out faster than I could write them.

John: That’s easy: reading Isaac Asimov. “Robots of Dawn” opened the door for me at the right time when I was a teenager. I haven’t been able to stop writing since then. I didn’t actually get into reading fantasy until “The Lord of the Rings” movies and “Harry Potter” as well. Until those, I was mostly a science fiction kind-o-guy. Comedic writing came to me simply because I’m a goofball. I tried to write serious stories, but after about 20 pages I always end up falling back into something odd. I can’t help myself. It’s nearly impossible for me to stay serious for more than a few minutes at a time.

>Where did you come up with such creative names, like “Whizzfiddle” and “Muppy?”

Chris: Talk to my co-author. He’s the names guy.

John: I have always had the ability to come up with tons of names. I don’t know why this is. Maybe it’s because I don’t worry too much about correctness. As a demonstration, here are a couple of quick names that I’ll come up with right now: Hembly Steknish, Princess Ladalia Yemooth, and Zort Qwet (King of the Orcs). I guess now I’ll have to include those three in an upcoming story! And, it turns out that the king of the orcs is gonna be named Zort Qwet. Who knew?

Specifically on Whizzfiddle, there is a backstory on that. His real name was “Lenny Flepp,” and it looked like he was going to be stuck with that name for all eternity until he had his first ale. That’s when he learned that he was a wizard because alcohol turned out to be his power source. Not wanting to be known as Master Wizard Lenny Flepp, he sought out a better name. 

At first, he just went with “Xebdigon” because it sounded strong to him. But one night, after a particularly heavy bout of drinking, he ended up using a bard’s violin as a urinal. The bard, none too happy with this, yelled, “Hey, you, don’t whizz on my fiddle!” and the people started calling him “Whizzfiddle.”

>Your antagonist, Treneth, has quite the abrasive personality. Did you base Treneth off of someone you knew in real life?

John: Treneth is an amalgamation of a number of our bosses that we’ve had in the past. This doesn’t include all of my bosses, of course, as I quite liked some of them (like when I was self-employed, for example), but just a few of the more egotistical ones.

>Judging by all the other fantasy books that you parody in your own work, you have read quite a bit of fantasy yourself. What do you most enjoy about the fantasy genre?

Chris: That it provides an enormous landscape of ways to make fun of it. There is so much material to draw from for comedy. Seriously, though, I love the freedom that fantasy provides. Being able to build a world from scratch that has no inherent limitations is a lot of fun. The trick is to be careful to not break your own rules.

John: I enjoy fantasy because it’s loosely based on reality. There are heroes and villains that are beyond the realm of possibility, there are creative beasties, and there magical wonders to delight and entertain the mind.

From a writing standpoint, though, I would have to agree with Chris. World-building is a blast. Character creation can be flamboyant and a bit wacky. Readers get that. They actually like characters and places that are a somewhat over-the-top. That’s what makes it all so much fun.

> In your book, the world is split into the Upperworld and the Underworld. Which would you prefer to live in?

John: Upperworld, but I would visit the Underworld often. This means that I would have to be a wizard, since inter-dimensional travel would otherwise require me to be royalty and I’m far too goofy to be royalty.

Chris: Underworld, because I am a slave to technology. Also, I find the people in the Underworld more interesting and open-minded, especially in Dakmenhem. However, I wouldn’t mind dating some of the princesses in the Upperworld.

>The world you have set your story in is called Ononokin, how in the heavens do you pronounce that?
 

John: Oh-no-no-kin. Like, imagine you have just finished a book that is set in a fantasy world that you created, but, because you’re not very bright, you forgot to come up with a name for this world. So you say, aloud, “Oh no!” Next, you say, “Oh, no, no, no…” And then you think to yourself, well, it’s a medieval world, so everyone there is “kin.” So you slap those together and you come with, “Oh, no, no, kin!” That, sadly, is a true story.  

Chris: See, now I didn’t know that story. I thought “Ononokin” was to sound like “Oh, no, not again.”

>If you had to choose between being stuck in a room with an annoyed Cher for eternity or being attacked by three thousand crack-crazed gerbils, which would you choose?

Chris: I would have to take the room with Cher, since she’s at least not attacking me.

 
John: I fail to see the difference between the two, but I also have always failed to see a difference between Cher and Paul Stanley from the band Kiss. We are sure that its Cher and not Paul Stanley, right? Anyway, I guess I’d have to flip a coin, which would likely land me in a room for eternity with Chris and Cher.

If "A Quest of Undoing" is book sounds like something that you would like to add to your physical library or your Kindle stash you can check it out here.

As always, you can follow my perilous, sea-faring (or puddle-faring, whatever) adventures on Facebook, Goodreads, and Twitter.