Dear Reader,
This is way off topic. But indulge me. As you all know, by now, my sojourn on the internet has been dogged by the rather noisy intervention of some sad little creatures who prefer to remain anonymous. Well. They have been invaluable - on more than one level.
In the first place, courtesy all that hysterical denial - I am able to measure the extent of their panic which is proportionate to the efficacy of our technology. In the second place, they have given me a variety of personality and character that I'm working into a little book that I am writing for my grandchildren. It's about Petal - the fairy that brings flowers to the world.
Huff'n Puff is a dragon that lives in the clouds. He's a manic depressive who takes himself excessively seriously. He's got the intellectual reach of clay brick and the tempestuous nature of a typhoon. He's based on MileHigh.
Then there's Bogus the Bullfrog. He's particular genius is centered in the art of denial. But Bogus is hooked on diet of worms and the worms only come out when it rains. And Huff'n Puff brings the rain. Which means that this toad rather trails in the wake of Huff'n Puff. Unlike Huff'n Puff who who's got a roar like thunder - poor little Bogus can only croak. And it becomes tediously monotonous. That's Fuzzy.
Then there's an extraordinary little creature - part imp, part man. But mostly just moustache. Fillapint Wayward. He's an inappropriate little menace who draws way too much attention to himself. Forever scrambling up mountains. He's a 'low down' life form, literally and figuratively. And to look down on people he first has to climb high. But he suffers from vertigo which means he's in a continual state of hysteria. That's Humbugger.
Then there's a variation of Plod the Policeman who is, on the whole, one of my favorite literary characters. He's called Major Mownin-Mynah. He's particular genius is to rally the forces to kill 'hope' along with little old ladies and pretty butterflies and anything in pink. Unfortunately he suffers from a squint and shoots at a tangent. Off centre. Off the mark. Off the point. Just a sociopathic bully. That's our pointedly pointless Poynty.
Then there's the excessively rotund caterpillar - 'Catas Trophia'. Her vocabulary is as thin as her body is fat. And she lives on a diet of Major Mynah's victims. When she can find any. She has a propensity to theatrics and is loosely based on a combination of the Muppets' Mrs Piggy and a lump of pure lard. Needless to say that's our cat-lady.
Catas Trophia is married to Gloom'n Doom - who looks like Jabba the Hut. He's the menace of the story because, unlike all the others he's got a natural low animal cunning. Gloom'n Doom continually spouts sanctimonious platitudes which does nothing to hide his true nature. He's particular art is the art of calumny and intrigue. He sort of waddles around - and whispers in dark corners. And he's friends with dark shadowy creatures. All negatively phototropic.
And so it goes. It's a rich pool of personality to draw from. Such fun. As I've mentioned it's off topic. But it's going to fill my holiday and I'll have the real benefit of reading the stories to my grandchildren to test the register - so to speak. Who knows, The antics of our trolls may yet be elevated to an art form.
lol
Kindest regards
Rosemary
By the way. I'll ask my son to start another blogspot for me - if it's allowed and then transfer this post and sundry sketches together with some stories - as a pre-print trial. See how it goes. It'll be nice way to relax and indulge some of my artistic pretensions.
