For those who like to snag an early glimpse, I’m posting a draft of the Prologue to the third book in The Other Universes series, Artificial Stupidity. For the rest of you, I thought you might appreciate the warning.
I’ve just started work on the book, so I can’t provide many details. I can, however, offer a sneak peak that explains the title. If you are one of those people who either can’t wait, have an unhealthy amount of curiosity, or just like to click links, I’ve posted the Prologue on Wattpad.
This book will bring the major storylines to a close, completing what began in Reality Challenged and Blithering Genius. I hope to see some of the characters again as they spin off from this trilogy.
If you care to do so, I would love to hear your thoughts on the Prologue, characters, or things you’d like to see happen in this book. Who knows? You might get your wish.
It wasn’t Global Warming, the Ozone layer, or the fear of another shark/weather related movie. Now that the work crews have left, the trucks have hauled away the debris, and the dust has settled, it’s time to face reality. I shaved off my beard.
You might want to sit down. I’ll give you a moment. Here, I have a bowl of Cheetos and raisins for you. Feeling better?
It wasn’t hot, itchy or telepathic. Well, it might have been, but it didn’t talk to me. It was, however, multi-colored, forged out of rusty nails, and it attracted Blue-Fanged Skerlags from Mutiloid 3. Well, it probably would have if they weren’t so far away and in the midst of a zombie flea outbreak. I tried lectures, time outs, and even beard conditioner, but it just ignored me and controlled the neighbors. I’m not sure about that last part since I’m not all that neighborly.
No matter how I trimmed it, the beard never looked good. It had all the flexibility and comfort of spiked steel rebar. It twisted in nonsensical directions for no discernible reason. The gray, brown and black striping made me look like Skunkman. While, I’ll admit, that sounds a bit intriguing, it wasn’t as cool as you might think.
I really tried to make this thing work. I took it out in public on walks. Well, I drove, but it could have walked if it had wanted to do so. With great patience, I waited for it mature, hoping for a day when we could enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship. At first, I tolerated its annoying tendency to grab food, but its insatiable hunger and selfish cheese poaching became too much to bear.
Finally, I accepted the fact that this could only end one way. One of us would have to shave off the other. Since I would prefer to be the shaver rather than the shavee, I hacked it off early in the morning, before it had a chance to steal some of my coffee. It didn’t go quietly. The street in front of my house filled with neighbors holding pitchforks and torches. Well, it might have. I didn’t look outside. Anyway, I ignored the threats, pleading, and transmissions to Mutiloid 3. With a final flick of the razor, the deed was done. Afterwards, it was a tad disconcerting when the beard leapt up, raced outside, and shouted, “Free at last!” Well, it might have. I was busy enjoying some coffee, so I missed it.
I won’t miss the beard, even though I liked the idea of the beard. I guess I’ll never be able to grow it out enough to do a comb-over or tie it in a bow on top of my head. I suppose those are looks I’ll just have to imagine for now. I suspect a character will soon venture forth in one of my stories with just such a beard.
I hope my actual beard doesn’t come after me for copyright infringement. I’ll put in a call to Mutiloid 3 just in case they need directions.
Sometimes, I’m asked for advice. Most of the time, however, I’m not. Go figure. All of that advice just bubbles and festers, waiting on an inquiring mind (or one without a sense of self-preservation) to ask for it. After waiting for several decades for someone with a dangerously over-developed curiosity to ask, I’ve begun to realize that it’s just not going to happen.
I know. You’re probably just as stunned as I am. Don’t worry, though, because I’ve thought of the perfect solution. I’ll assume that you asked. I’m sure you meant to do it. I’ve got you covered.
I call it Un-Advice and I’ve created a category for it on this blog. I’ll post some random pearls of wisdom which may infest your life and help me to clear out some of the mental toxic waste I’ve been hauling around. Here are some examples.
“Humans are red meat, but we taste more like pork. Researching this can raise eyebrows. It’s a good idea to realize that when conducting research for a story, not everyone will share your enthusiasm.”
“Creative problem solving is based upon the concept that most people are hopelessly incompetent. Never assume that anyone else did their job properly. Sure, they might have, but the odds are not good.”
“People. There’s just no excuse.”
“Learning about Electricity at a conceptual level is different from licking an electric fence. Some lessons are only learned through acts of unbelievable stupidity. The question is whether or not one chooses to learn by observation or participation…”
“If you agree to review a book, you should pay an appropriate amount of attention to it. Skimming a book, glancing at pages and flipping through it in order to spend as little time as possible on it is a bit like texting throughout a movie and then complaining that you couldn’t get into it. If you put in the effort and still don’t like it, at least you’ll know that you gave it a chance.”
“Just because melted cheese gets stuck in a beard, does not mean that one must give up pizza when one grows a face blanket. I mean, we’re talking about pizza. One can always wear a facekin (It’s like a napkin, but for your face.) Hey, I didn’t write the rules for dining etiquette in polite society.”
There you go. You’re welcome. You see? This is what happens when you let un-advice spoil in my head. You’re probably rethinking that decision not to ask for advice now, aren’t you?