Now that’s it been several hours since the new blog went live, I want to share the story I wrote for the opening post for Monday’s Muse today. Make sure you check out Twisted Writers, the new writing blog I am writing for along with five of my friends from my writing critique group. And remember, Mondays will be my scheduled day to post there.
The Grymm Story of How Twisted Writers Was Born
A More Or Less (Mostly Less) True Story
Once upon a time there was a group of writers who became friends. They were a motley crew being made up of a historic romance writer (who also wrote science fiction and was a damned good cartoonist as well), a spy thriller writer (who the rest of the group secretly thought could have be an actual spy since he was rarely seen in a car), a science fiction/paranormal romance writer (who was also ultimately the ringleader of the group), a shy but pushy young adult writer (who was, in fact, the actual ringleader of the group), a soft-spoken gentle-looking romance writer (who could write the hottest, steamiest love scene without a single stitch of clothing coming off), and a noveling poet (who called herself a lunatic poet, whatever that means).
One day The Ultimate Ringleader suggested they all get together for a meeting to discuss the future of The Grymm Story. The Grymm Story was as bad a story as could be. It sucked the very life out of any and all who read it. It went on and on and on forever. There had been casualties.
“What are we going to do about The Grymm Story?” asked The Ultimate Ringleader.
“Can’t we just kill it?” asked The Damned Good Cartoonist. The Ultimate Ringleader shook her head.
“We could, but then we’d have to clean up the blood and that stuff’s hard to get out of the carpet.”
“What if we wrote it out of existence?” asked The Actual Ringleader. “Then there wouldn’t be any mess to clean up, or if there is it’d just be ink and Lunatic Poet over there could clean it up. She’s good with commas.” Lunatic Poet stuck her tongue out and began thinking of other ways to use the spilled ink, including writing The Actual Ringleader into an embarrassingly naughty poem and making The Actual Ringleader read it out loud in front of The Group.
“What if we just told it the truth? It’s not like it doesn’t know it’s a bad story,” suggested Secret Spy.
“I’m not sure that would work either. I don’t think it really knows it’s a bad story,” said The Ultimate Ringleader. She sighed.
“How can it know
When we won’t go
And tell it to its face
That it’s a horrible disgrace?” rhymed Lunatic Poet.
“I think Lunatic Poet is right. We should just tell The Grymm Story that it’s a really bad story,” said McSteamy the Writer.
“What? You mean just tell it the truth?” asked The Damned Good Cartoonist.
“Yes. Why not? What could it hurt?” said The Ultimate Ringleader.
“I agree, and I think Lunatic Poet should do it,” volunteered The Actual Ringleader, and she smiled very innocently at Lunatic Poet.
“Those who speak first
The messenger is cursed
In Truth’s snare,” intoned Lunatic Poet.
Everyone looked at her.
“Anyone understand what she just said?” asked The Damned Good Cartoonist.
“I’m pretty sure she just said she’s not going to be the one to do it,” said Secret Spy.
“Well, who’s going to go tell The Grymm Story then?” asked McSteamy the Writer.
“I think we all should,” decided The Ultimate Ringleader. “Strength in numbers.”
So it was decided that they should appear en masse to tell The Grymm Story that it was a very bad story and that it had to change its evil ways. Besides, they were all terribly afraid of The Grymm Story. They would rather face the Dementors from Harry Potter than be the only one to give it the bad news. Only one as in: all alone, as in: by themselves with the others running away laughing at the one who got caught.
However, The Grymm Story sidled up to them at their next meeting instead. It stood in front of the only door out of the room, effectively trapping them all in with it. Hearts began pounding, sweat broke out on foreheads, and everyone began calculating their own chance of survival. Who could they sacrifice first? Who would be able to keep their head? There could be only one.
“I have come to a difficult decision. This group is not working out for me and I am leaving. I am a Real Story, and the ones you write are not. I find them predictable from the first paragraph.” The disdainful wrinkle of The Grymm Story’s nose seemed an affectation and failed to portray its disgust. Each member of the group were excitedly executing a mental Happy Dance. They were going to live!
The Grymm Story began to slink away, but left with a parting shot. “I find all of your works inferior and wish not to be associated with them in any way.” And that was the last anyone saw of The Grymm Story.
“Well la-dee-da! Aren’t we the superior one?” remarked McSteamy the Writer, not with the least bit of sarcasm.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the butt on your way out,” said Damned Good Cartoonist quietly in case The Grymm Story heard and came back to take him out. He knew the others would give him up in a heartbeat.
“Well! I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” said The Ultimate Ringleader.
“Thank God,” said The Actual Ringleader and McSteamy the Writer in unison.
“I have a feeling things are going to be much more peaceful now that Grymm is gone,” said Damned Good Cartoonist.
“I agree. But I think we ought to watch out for retaliation,” suggested Secret Spy.
“I don’t think Grymm Story will take revenge, but we’ll keep an eye out just in case,” said Ultimate Ringleader.
“Now that Grymm Story has come to an end
We’ll no more be mired in its bog.
Our future is brighter now than it was before
What say we begin a writing blog?” sang Lunatic Poet.
Everyone looked at each other. “Why didn’t we think of this before? What a great idea!” they all agreed.
And so it was that a new writing blog was born from the twisted tale of…
The Grymm Story.