Pantser Pandemonium

Pantser Pandemonium

Once upon a time…

“Oh, my god. So cliché. I’m gonna barf.”

Um… freaking out here. Who are you?

“Your book, stupid. I’m tired of you always taking shortcuts, writing without any forethought.”

Okay. Wow. Ahem… There once was a man named Bob.

“Come on! Start with action! Draw me in!”

I’m getting a little intimidated here…

“Do you want to be a writer, or not?”

Yes.

“Continue, then. If I had a foot, I’d be tapping it.”

Okay. Action. Bob raised his sword and dove headlong into the melee.

“Go on…”

The evil giant, Jim…

“Jim? Fingers scraping on a chalkboard here. Choose a name that’s emotive. Think Darth Vader.”

Right. The evil giant, Ryborg…

“Ryborg?”

Rhymes with cyborg. Just go with it. The evil giant, Ryborg, raised his axe and crashed it down upon Bob’s skull. Blood spattered across the earth.

“Wait. Wasn’t Bob the protagonist? You killed him in two sentences.”

I’m trying to end the story so you’ll go away.

“No such luck. The evil giant, Ryborg, raised his axe and…”

Sigh. … and ran toward Bob with a yell.

“‘Yell’ is boring.”

…with a guttural scream.

“Better.”

Bob leaped, twisted his body, and spun sideways, barely escaping the steel of Ryborg’s axe.

“Iron.”

What?

“Iron of his axe. It sounds more… axe-like.”

I want to punch you in the spine, book. Get out of my head and let me write.

“No can do, amigo. What happens next?”

There was a thundering of earth…

“Passive language. Boo.”

Grr. The earth thundered as a pack of wolves approached. They were not riderless. Goblins! Bob approached them.

“You used ‘approached’ twice. Choose a different word.”

I’ll turn you to sawdust with my steel axe, stupid book. Fine. Bob turned to them. He swept his dark hair from his eyes, his muscles tense, sword raised, ready to face the onslaught head-on.

“Um… what about the giant, Ryborg? Did he just disappear?”

For the love of all that’s holy, just give me a minute! Ryborg to his left of him, goblins to the right…

“‘Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.’ That’s a song, dummy. Mix it up.”

Ryborg let out a roar and tromped toward Bob’s left. Goblins galloped on wolves, attacking to the right. Pointing his sword straight out, Bob dove between the giant’s muscular legs and slashed at his achilles heel.

“Achilles is capitalized. And possessive.”

…slashed at his Achilles’ heel. The giant let out a primal roar and toppled over, crushing three of seven goblins as he crashed to the ground.

A wolf, now free from its dead rider, yowled.

“Howled. Cats yowl, wolves howl.”

…howled. Bob approached the wolf…

“There’s that ‘approached’ again…”

Grr. Bob grabbed a handful of fur at the nape of the wolf’s neck and jumped onto the beast’s back, his sword slashing and stabbing at the remaining goblins, to a terrible clashing of steel until the final remaining goblin received a death blow to the neck.

Bob took a deep breath and turned to see Ryborg struggling to get up. The giant grabbed Bob’s wolf by the tail, hurling it in the air. Bob flew off and landed on his feet, knees bent, sword up. Ryborg lifted his massive boot to squash Bob like a bug…

“Squash like a bug? Nope. You sound like you’re in kindergarten.”

Ryborg lifted his massive foot to stomp the life out of his nemesis. As his boot came down, Bob planted the hilt of the sword in the ground and rolled out of the way. Ryborg crushed his foot down, right onto Bob’s blade, and shrieked with pain, falling once more to the ground. His massive arm landed on Bob.

Bob writhed, trying to free himself, but Ryborg easily grabbed Bob in his fist and squeezed. Bob moaned, his ribs burning and straining from the pressure. He couldn’t find his breath. His eyes started bulging. “Stop!” Bob cried out. “Stop and I’ll.. I’ll…”

“Go on…”

I’m thinking. Okay, got it. "Stop, and I’ll make you my second. We can travel together and save this kingdom from our mutual enemy, the goblins."

“But…” Ryborg said, loosening his grip. “You hurt me. You cut me with your biting blade.”

Surprisingly, Bob thought he heard sorrow in Ryborg’s voice. Bob continued, “Well, you did come at me with an axe.”

Ryborg nodded. “Yeah. It’s kind of what I do. I smash things. I like smashing and bashing.”

Bob managed a smile. “I do too, but I do it with purpose.”

“Purpose?”

“Yes, like a quest.”

“Can I go on a quest with you?” asked Ryborg, with childlike hope.

“I give you my word. Set me down, and we can be partners.”

Ryborg gently lowered Bob to his feet and let go, then sat beside him with an earth-shaking whump.

Bob found himself feeling sorry for the giant. “I can bandage your wounds.”

Ryborg shook his head. “I have regenerative flesh. See?” He showed his ankle to Bob, who could actually see the flesh knitting back together.

Ryborg continued, “What I don’t have is a friend. Everyone screams 'Giant!' and runs away."

Bob nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s not your size that intimidates them. It could be all that smashing and bashing.”

Ryborg chuckled deep in his throat. “I won’t smash and bash you if you won’t slice and dice me.”

Bob smiled. “Deal.” He held out his strong, large hand, which was dwarfed by the giant’s gigantic one, and they shook on it.

“Well. That was… unexpected.”

In a bad way?

“No. -sniffle- I actually like Ryborg now. He’s just so very misunderstood.”

Do you need a hanky?

“No. I need you to finish the story.”

Okay, then. Bob straddled his wolf, with his new companion Ryborg at his side, and they rode off into the sunset. And thus began the adventures of Bob and Ryborg. The end.

“What? You’re not going to finish it?”

I just did. It’s a series.

“It’s not even a cliffhanger!”

No. It’s better. It’s a beginning. Now there can be infinite adventures.

“It’s a chapter, at best. Please. I need to know what happens!”

And that, my friend, is why we write.