I’m having a little bit of a surreal moment here as I both use Chromecast to put this on my television and use the Game Bar to record my typing, but why not have a little fun sometimes?
My son just told me, “Writer’s don’t do that! That’s not how you write a story!”
Oh…that sounded like a dare.
I don’t know how we got on the subject, but I’ll start by explaining that my son is 13, and I have a healthy teenage sense of humor. On the drive home from work, he mentions he wants to be a writer! (I’ve only been trying to get him to write for three years, but apparently when he told his Grandpa about an idea today, suddenly it clicked. Whatever works!)
Yay, another writer in my house! So I say, “I’m going to play with Clover tonight.” Clover being a new character growing in my head. And somehow, I decide it’ll be funny to say, “Spoiler alert: everybody dies.” Which confuses my 13-year-old, so I ramble a bit about how from the moment we’re born we’re just marching toward death. And in a funny, movie announcer voice, I say, “For some, it takes 30 years. For others, 60. For Clover, for-ev-errrrr!”
Which tickles me to no end, because as I mentioned, my son and I are on the same humor level at this point. Fart jokes abound.
Me: “Oh, maybe I’ll do that! Every chapter will start with a spoiler alert!”
Son: “You can’t do that! That’s not how stories are written!”
Me: “No, ’cause it’ll be like, ‘Spoiler alert: the dog gets it’, except then the dog will like, go fetch a stick, and get it, and bring it back.”
Son: “No, Mom, you can’t do that.”
Me: “And then, ‘Spoiler alert: the guy gets the girl’, and it’ll be Clover into this guy who is really into someone else, and he gets that girl, not Clover.”
Me: “Or maybe, ‘Spoiler alert: the guy takes her’, and it’s a guy taking Clover across town, to the store, to buy her milk!”
Which he did not find amusing, except that he couldn’t stop laughing. And then it came up again tonight as I was sending everyone to bed, and he’s still convinced – no, I just can’t write that!
In fact, his exact words were:
You can’t write that, Mom, or I guarantee you’ll never earn another dollar from writing again.
That sounded like a dare.
<insert evil grin>
In fact, I believe it was.
So every chapter I write about Clover will start with a spoiler alert, which will give away the contents of the chapter.
Clover is tall, with dark hair (I swear it sounds like I’m Mary-Sue-ing this sucker, but I’m not), she hates Leprechauns (but not the Irish), her favorite colors are green and gold, and she likes to run away.
I’m gonna go play with Clover. ‘Cause someone said I can’t.
Oh, look – you can watch me write this post! :D