…is just a cigar.

Several years ago there was this great little sitcom called “Stark Raving Mad,” which starred Tony Shaloub (Wings, Monk) and Neil Patrick Harris (Doogie Howser, Dr. Horrible, How I Met Your Mother.)

The short lived series centered on best-selling (fictional) horror author, Ian Stark. I could go on and on about it, because I absolutely loved the show. Unfortunately, it lasted only one season, and oddly enough was canceled somewhere around one month prior to my own first novel, Harm None: A Rowan Gant Investigation, showing up in bookstores.

But, I’m not here to rant about stupid TV execs… Even though I’m known to do that from time to time. Firefly anyone? Drive anyone? But, I digress…

Nope, not here to rant on TV guys.  I’m here to talk about something else (as usual). However, we know how my brain works and it just so happens a particular episode of “Stark Raving Mad” popped into my head as an illustration of my point…

Episode 17 – THE GRADE: Quick synopsis – A regular character who is a friend of Ian’s, and who works at the bar on the ground floor below his apartment is going to night classes at the local college. She is working extra hours and in her lit class she needs to write an analysis of a book – as it happens, the book she has selected is one of Ian’s. Hilarity ensues, of course… However, the reason it ensues is that she is so busy she manages to talk Ian into writing the book report for her. Her professor, played by John Lithgow (another of my faves) gives her a B. Ian simply can’t stand it, since he wrote the report about a book he had written in the first place.  Upon Ian confronting the prof,  it is explained to him how “Maddie” (Ian’s friend) had completely missed the underlying meaning of the knife used in a murder. Ian tells the professor, “Sometimes a knife is just a knife.” What makes it funnier, however, is that even after the prof discovers that he is talking to Ian Stark himself, the author of the book as well as the paper, he continues to disagree (and if I recall correctly, even drops “Maddie” down to a C.)

And that, my friends, is “what I’m talkin’ about”…

Sometimes a knife is just a knife, a cigar just a cigar, and a redhead just a redhead – although I would prefer you not tell E K (or Felicity for that matter) that I made that last comment.

My point is, I write novels. And believe me, I dearly love the fact that there are people out there who become emotionally invested in the stories. I think we’ve already established in a previous blog entry that I do as well.

However (You saw that coming, correct?) based on some of the “fan mail” I receive I feel compelled to point out a few things…

They are stories. Works of fiction. Not instructional manuals for your Wiccan coven.

Just because you live on a street that has the same name as a street in one of my novels, that doesn’t mean I am writing about you. Really. Seriously. We’ve never even met, so how could I possibly be writing about you… Wait. Don’t answer that. I’m relatively certain I don’t want to know the convoluted logic…

Just because you have red hair it doesn’t mean you are Felicity.

You are not… I repeat NOT… the “reincarnation” of Rowan Gant. (Honestly, I don’t even begin to understand that one. He’s fictional, but even if we discount that fact, he’s not even dead.)

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. Sometimes a cigar is just that… A cigar.

And a novel, no matter how entertaining, is still a novel…

More to come…

Murv

So, I ran across something today. I’m not sure if I was supposed to see it or not, but since it was just laying there in plain view… Well… It caught my attention and I pretty much couldn’t help but read it.

You see, during the morning running about today I had myself an extra chore, as assigned by the Evil Redhead herself, that being the task of going to the bank and making a deposit. I know, I know, why in the world would E K allow me to:

1. Go anywhere near a bank.
2. Have money.
3. Be anywhere near money.
4. Especially be anywhere near money that belongs to her.
5. Know of the existence of money.
6. Ad infinitum…

Yeah, yeah, give me a break… We all know I’m less than frugal and not all that good at money management, I’ve already admitted as much. And,  because of that, E K handles all of the finances and doesn’t let me near the money. Nothing new there… However, after 22+ years of marriage she does have me fairly well trained, (or more accurately, beaten into submission).

Therefore, she will occasionally entrust me with the task of making a bank deposit. Of course, whenever she does this I am escorted by armed guards, and then there are also the other security measures, such as dye packs, double signature requirements, fingerprint and retinal scan ID requirements, a shock collar locked around my neck, etc… So, the chances of me actually being able to do anything other than hand the deposit over to a bonded courier at the bank are practically nil… Well, not practically I don’t guess… When you get right down to it they are about as nil as they can get…

But, yeah, I’m now following a semi-related chicken, so let’s get back on track…

Upon my return home, as is my prescribed duty I placed the documentation, which proves I have completed the task, upon the Evil One’s desk. It was at this point I came across the “something.” It was just tossed out there in plain sight… You know… In a file folder, which was sealed in a manila envelope,  which was stamped “eyes only” and “Do Not Open – This Means You, Murv”, which was stuffed under some other files in her briefcase, which was double locked and tucked back into a secret, hidden cubbyhole beneath her desk…

See what I mean? Right there in plain sight…

So, anyway, a picture of said “something” is inserted below, and since it might be a bit hard to read from an image, I have also copied the text  and placed it beneath the picture for your convenience…

February 20, 2009
RE: Evil League of Evil

CERTIFIED MAIL

Bad Horse
Evil League of Evil
ELE Secret Headquarters
It’s a secret you moron

Dear Bad Horse:

This letter is to inform you that I am officially declining your invitation to join the Evil League of Evil. While the offer of full membership is certainly attractive, especially considering the convertible toaster oven/death-ray signing incentive you threw in, it still did not escape my attention that said offer also included a rider, which in effect would ban me from seeking the position of CEO for the League.

To that end, I have now initiated a hostile takeover of the Evil League of Evil. On that note, as you are well aware, my anger management classes did not go so well. Therefore, even if you were to agree to a buyout, this takeover would still be hostile, because to put it simply, everything I do is hostile. Extremely hostile and just plain mean. Besides, I’m evil, enough said.

As of today, I have obtained the necessary shares to gain controlling interest in the League. My latest purchase, which put me over the top, was thanks to Doctor Horrible who was in dire need of quick cash to pay off his student loans. (Apparently a PhD in horribleness is rather expensive.)

In conclusion, I am calling for you, BH, to vacate the post of CEO PDQ. I am giving you 24 hours to clean out your stall. As is called for in the by-laws, I will also require you to submit a formal letter of resignation.  I would appreciate knowing the ETA on that ASAP.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have a shoe sale to attend.

Disrespectfully Yours,

Evil Kat

Queen Bitch of the Whole F***ing Universe

E K:lackey #1

… You know, something tells me we should all be very worried. Especially Bad Horse…

More to come…

Murv

(… If you are unfamiliar with the Evil League of Evil, Bad Horse, and/or Doctor Horrible, I highly recommend you check out the following links: drhorrible.com and  evilleagueofevil.com. You owe it to yourself to stay informed… Especially since E K is taking over…)