Author: G. Derek Adams

Author of Spell/Sword. Trouble maker.
G. Derek Adams1 Comment

N. E. White's avatarN. E. White

Can’t claim credit for that. Really. I want to, but obiwannabe is the guilty party. Go check out his blog and remember to inundate his comment section when he asks you to. I dare you.

What is it that grips a completely normal person and turns them into a hideous recluse spouting at imaginary people who run around slicing off Kings’ heads and spearing babes?

Well, it’s their third nipple, of course.

You see, some of us are born with an extra one. As obiwannabe explains, it is normally not talked about in polite conversation so many of us who have one are not even aware we got an extra nipple running around on our torso, even though we’ve had them all our lives.

I found mine last week. It peeked out at me from under my armpit.

I said to it, “What are you doing there, Third Nipple?…

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Shakespeare 2012

G. Derek Adams5 Comments

[I don’t normally include the explanation at the top — but this one is a doozy. This idea was submitted on Facebook by Allen.]

“Othello is running for reelection. Henry V is the GOP nominee. They wait in the green room to begin a televised debate when, suddenly, a young woman collapses of stroke. who is she? Two paramedics arrive as the scene opens.”

 

Enter two paramedics.

JARVIS

Summoned we have been, to the house

of light and sound – the television studio

where all visions fantastical

leap o’er the air to the shining

squares in each and every good man’s

noble den, couch-front and shining.

 

BERNARD

What is the sport? What

dire sickness or mortal wound

summons our white chariot

red lights flashing like

the red eye of Jove himself?

 

JARVIS

I know not, friend  —-

but I see presently a stout porter comes

henceforth to lead us to our

duty and sacred charge.

 

A television producer enters, bearing a clipboard.

GLENDA

Ah, medics — at last you arrive

fast as Hermes’ to your duty

and sacred charge — well met!

 

JARVIS

What sickness or ill calls us to this place?

Speak quick — swift action is the blessing of all

who ail and require our skill and succor.

 

GLENDA

Come hence.

 

The three discover HENRY V, one time King of England and France — and OTHELLO, a moor. They crouch over the still form of a young woman. The paramedics rush to the woman’s side and begin tending to her.

GLENDA

Honored nobles, please come away and

allow these men to fulfill their charge.

The people of America wait for you to speak

and fill their hearts with the message of

your glory, vouchsafe the country’s goals

and seize the crown imperial through

this televised debate — the time of choosing

is nigh — we must begin this play of words

‘ere more sands fall through the hourglass.

 

OTHELLO

Jupiter and blessed Pallas Athene!

I do pray this young girl can be

returned to full health and vital

how strange that she should fall

ill here, and swoon into the bosom

of foul sleep ‘ere she could

speak her dire message.

 

HENRY

Uh huh.

 

OTHELLO

What means this, friend Hal?

I know we disagree most bitterly

on the course and tack of this country’s ship.

But surely you do not suggest that I—

 

HENRY

Look, buster. I think we all know about you  and the ladies.

 

OTHELLO

Your words are dross, instead of true-gold.

How can you speak with the split tongue

of a garter snake — here on the cusp of our debate?

To take this poor woman’s fate and twist it to

suit your minstrel-song and mechanical-pander.

 

HENRY

Or should I say…..girls?

 

OTHELLO

Listen here, you mealy mouthed motherfucker —

 

JARVIS

Hark! She breathes, the flame of life

still burns within her mortal frame.

Our duty and sacred charge has been

well served here this day, this time

of legends!

 

The woman rises and approaches the two candidates.

WOMAN

Look upon my face and know despair

twenty fathoms deep your heart thrown

in iron shackles beneath the blue-green

waves of Poseidon’s kingdom.

 

OTHELLO

O, horror!

 

HENRY.

Fuck.

 

WOMAN

I served your purpose, and served your lust–

a chattel born to the lash is better served

by a quarry’s cruel labor then I was served

by you two princes of the earth.

To take a poor widow, kept in a house

with madmen and waggle-doctors —

to make me scribe your words,

plan your campaign, even pick

out the color of your tie.

Neither of you have half the manhood that I can claim.

you are bitter, empty things — gourds full of sound and air.

And now, here on the edge of your greatest glory

I come— I come to strike you down

 

GLENDA

Who are you, strange woman?

 

HENRY

Look — could you not — shit.

 

OTHELLO falls on his sword. No one notices.

 

LADY MACBETH

I am the kingmaker — I am the queen of iron

behind the prince of straw, spinning quiet webs

and laying plans for these fools’ victory.

And I will have my cup overflow with

revenge and the blood of those who have

wronged me.

 

HENRY

Hey — Lady M. I think you spilled some barbecue sauce on your dress. It’s right there….on your sleeve.

 

LADY MACBETH begins to tear at her clothing.

 

LADY MACBETH

Out! Out! Damn–

 

A ravenous bear enters. 

 

EXEUNT all pursued by bear.

 

 

 

I am writing a book.

G. Derek Adams12 Comments

As promised, I’ve hit the 40,000 word mark — so I will now openly refer to That Thing as a book.

I’m writing a book. A book is being written by me.

My neuroses are suiting up in nuclear fusion-powered mech suits, but there — I said it.

I’m writing a book.

THERE I SAID IT.

Beneath the willows

G. Derek Adams3 Comments

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Quintus, Gorton, Quick and Mara put their fallen comrade on their shoulders, and moved solemnly through the fields of corn to the north. Tetch floated close behind, followed by Linus and the stone elf.

The blind man spoke the ancient words.

“Time and wave
sun and wind
night and fire
moons and stone.

We walk through the world only once.
Only one life is given by the Nameless.
It is a gift, a burden.
A challenge, a duty.

To not waste it.
To serve the Highest.
To the end of the Path, with our honor intact.

This path has ended.
We return our brother to the earth,
in trust that his soul kneels now at the feet of our Lord.
His gift returned.
His burden set down.
His challenge answered.
His duty fulfilled.

By the Swords of Faith, in respect and honor we stand for Elijah Croft.”

The hunter’s words led them to the broken stone road that ran east to west. Mara and Quintus spotted a grove of willows, and nodded in unison. They lay Elijah’s form down, and took great pains folding his arms carefully around his weapon — straightening each piece of armor, and buffing clean any mark of ash or dirt. Elijah’s plain face was still, his red hair seemed darker under the shadows of the willow branches.

Music

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“A mere tune?” Elora’s eyebrows rose, twisting her scar oddly.

“Music is the only true magic left. It can span time and space, bring joy and sorrow – the stories of entire generations wound up in a few simple notes. The right melody at the right moment can lead an army to triumph, bring a heart to ruin or fill it overflowing with love. Music is the wind that blows across all of history, everywhere and nowhere – commonplace and vital. Every soul can create it, every soul is affected by it, every soul recognizes it. Clearly the Precursors had more respect for it than you, barbarian.”

[Quoted from City of Rain: Book Nine of Lodestar.]

40K or bust!

G. Derek Adams2 Comments

Hitting the 40,000 word mark on That Thing by the end of this week. I think I’ll celebrate by upgrading its title from ‘That Thing” to “That Long Thing I’m Writing That More Well-Adjusted People Would Call A Book.”

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