ObeseQueen

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For those of you who follow me for WG fiction, you probably know that my style is the one-shot story... vignettes or shorts that develop quickly.  However, this "Melanie" series I've been writing with Adephagian is the longest fiction I've ever attempted.  It has also quickly become my favorite. 

This morning Adephagian posted part 8 of the series, and it is absolutely fantastic.  (I can say that without bragging because I had no hand in writing it.)  While we are planning two further chapters, Part 8 contains the climax.  If you haven't met Melanie yet, please get a ridiculous portion of your favorite fattening snack and settle in for a really great story -- see why Adephagian is my favorite writer.

Melanie part 1: Shopping Day

So! If you think you might be interested in the Dark Tower series, you don't have to start at the beginning.  Especially if you don't care for The Gunslinger at first, I strongly recommend starting with the second book, Drawing of the Three, which is actually my personal favorite Stephen King book of all time.  Don't worry about what you may have missed from the first book; it is summed up in an "Argument" before Chapter 1 starts.  

Finally, I would suggest that a third way to start might be with Hearts in Atlantis.  Guarantee: If you can read Hearts in Atlantis and not have to satisfy your curiosity about the world that Ted Brautigan came from, I will eat your copy of it.

There are many roads in the world of Stephen King, and at least three lead to the Tower.

RATING:  

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As always, your thoughts are most welcome!

POSTSCRIPT:  I seem to be on a dystopian streak.  After recently finishing Veronica Roth's amazing Divergent trilogy and Lauren Oliver's excellent Delirium series, I have decided to reread The Dark Tower books.  I'm currently on the fourth book, Wizard and Glass, and it's been such a wonderful adventure.  Won't you join me?

Now that I've got the attention of my target audience, I'm excited to announce two promising collaborations with my favorite WG author, Nobody. You might recognize that name as the co-author of one of my most popular my most popular story, The Fridge.

It's been a few years since I really got into a sitcom.  I've been busy -- in college, raising a kid, taking care of my aging mom, and generally clearing the wreckage of my past. When I was taking Anatomy & Physiology, the toughest course in my program of study, the professor advised us that we would need to spend a lot of time studying in order to pass.  He suggested giving up TV.  I took it to heart, and for the last two years since then I haven't watched anything on TV faithfully.  But lately I've gotten into "How I Met Your Mother," and one episode, "The Murtaugh List," really got me thinking.

The concept is named after the older cop from Lethal Weapon, played by Danny Glover, whose famous line was "I'm getting too old for this shit!"  It's a list of things you used to do without a second thought. Ted and his thirty-something friends came up with these:

1. Pierce your own ears
   
2. Crash on a friend's futon instead of getting a hotel room
3. Pull an all-nighter
4. Laser tag
5. Eat an entire pizza in one sitting
6. Hang posters with no frames
7. Do laundry at parents' house
8. Put off going to the doctor
9. Drink shots with strangers
10. Leave an annoying, two-person message on your answering machine
11. Help someone move out of a six floor walk up in exchange for pizza and beer
12. Dye your hair a funny color
13. Beer bong
14. Go to a rave

So, this morning I heard my mother booking a hotel room for herself and three friends, and I heard her agree to an extra $60 per night for the luxury of a second bathroom.  I gave her a hard time about it, but she just calmly informed me, "When you're my age you'll do the same thing."  Which is her genteel way of saying, "Four old ladies sharing a bathroom? We're too old for that shit."

Over the last couple of years as a thirty-something I have had a few similar epiphanies, leading to my own Murtaugh list.  It's not as long as Ted's, since I was never the type to go to a rave or pierce my own ears.  But age is chipping away at even my sedentary pursuits.

1.  Sleeping in my car

I used to consider my car an alternative bedroom.  On a spur-of-the-moment road trip, I'd just pull off the road, lock the doors, recline my seat and snooze.  Also, because I'm not a morning person, sometimes when I'd have a very early appointment I would sleep in my car outside the place, rather than risk oversleeping.

And that's what I was doing when I got Murtaughed for the first time.  Last year, I had to take a five-hour credentialing exam starting at 8 a.m., which was 90 minutes away from my house.   Rather than hope to wake up at 5:30, I just drove out there the night before, set my cell phone alarm and reclined my seat.  And could not sleep.  It was too cold, so I got a blanket out of the trunk.  It was too stuffy, so I cracked a window.  I tossed and turned miserably all night.  I didn't get a wink of sleep; I just lay there wondering "How did I used to do this? Why can't I do it anymore?"

Five-and-a-half hours (without a break!) is a test of endurance as much as knowledge.  I could barely keep my eyes open.  Needless to say, I failed the exam.  The next time, with no additional studying but a full night's sleep, I passed.

Which brings me to the next item:

2.  Pulling an all-nighter

Being a night owl, there were literally hundreds of times when I'd decide not to sleep based on late-night math.  You know, "Oh no, it's 3:12 so if I fall asleep right now and skip a shower I can get 2 hours and 18 minutes... I should just stay up rather than risk oversleeping."  And I'm not talking about the occasions when drugs were involved, either. I'd drink a cup of coffee and pull it off, and smugly pat myself on the back. 

Yeah, not so much anymore.  If I'm not asleep by 2 a.m., whatever I'm supposed to do tomorrow morning is just not happening until lunchtime.

3.  Camping in the rain

This one kinda hurts my pride.  I love camping in the woods.  Everybody has a different definition of camping, ranging from hiking miles into a forest and burying your own poop, to pitching a tent at a campground, to sleeping in an air-conditioned RV.  I'm a tent-camper with an emphasis on doing without electricity, which is kind of middle-ground. 

And speaking of the ground, I used to be able to sleep on it with just a sleeping bag between me and the rocks and pine-cones.  I don't remember exactly when it happened, but at some point I couldn't do that anymore.  I had always considered giant air mattresses contrary to the spirit of camping, so instead I compromised with a small pool-float to keep myself just a couple inches off the ground.  I could blow it up myself without needing to use an air pump.  (See what I mean about pride?)

I used to take off camping without giving the weather any consideration, and that spontaneity was part of the fun.  If it got cold, we had blankets.  If it rained, we'd put up a tarp.  My ex-husband and I spent many rainy days in a tent, playing cards and listening to the rain.  In fact, that's what we were doing when he proposed. 

There were only a couple of times when the rain was so heavy that we weren't able to keep the tent dry inside.  One weekend we camped about ten feet from a pond, and it rained heavily, nonstop, for two days.  By the time we left on Sunday, the pond had risen all the way up to the tent door.  But when it rained so hard that everything did get soaked, we'd just sleep in the car. Which brings us back to #1.

I'm sure I could come up with more, but those are the ones that really hit me hard.  I'm not going to let it get me down; I know we trade youth for wisdom, and I think it's a good deal.  Besides, I have yet to dye my hair purple, get a tattoo, and learn to play guitar.  Those items are on my Bucket List.

Readers, what's on your Murtaugh list?