Getting off to a good start on my New Year's Resolution, I've decided to tell you about my current WIP - The Magical Emporium of Magical Things. It has quite a long and stupid title, but that's for instant comedic effect (also, I don't want readers to think that it's a very serious sort of book - it's designed to make you laugh, even if you don't want to).
In the book, which started as a short story, Rich Dave and his Sails Assistant Middle Class Rodney are preparing for the discount-period that annually follows the dying holiday of Christmas, celebrated only by a number of people who are all called Chris Tea Ans, apparently. During this time, The Sails, rags and cloths of all manners are suspended from shop windows and on poles to indicate to people that the prices are down ("when the Sails are up, the prices, subsequently, are down.")
And yes, those are their real names. Neither man, nor anybody else in the world, has a surname. Instead, they are all named after their social class, or the level of their wealth which in some cases is deceptive to their actual standing in the world.
In an attempt to avoid beheading, Middle Class Rodney doesn't work on Christmas Day to set up the Sails and discount the goods of The Magical Emporium of Magical Things. (This is all due to the fact that the Cultural Enforcers are under duty to protect the culture of the Chris's; the price for breaking the law in this regard is instant beheading, the cost of repair of which is rather high, and more than Middle Class Rodney can afford without his week's wages.) With just over three minutes to go, Dave freezes time using one of his two pocket watches, resulting in the events of the story to unfold in dramatic and often humourous ways.
For you see... The Book of Lost Things once sat on his shelves, until it found itself in the Time between seconds and leapt onto the floor, finally free from its prison. Quickly it goes about performing strange magic, calling people into existence with only a knowledge of shame, and only for three and a half seconds that aren't really passing, all before they implode on themselves. Only one man doesn't implode, largely due to the fact that he's having quite a hard time doing it. Dave and Rodney cover him a cloak, and when he attempts to leave... well, the anti-theft spells activate and all magic affecting him is nullified, including the spell which keeps him in one piece; the man splits in two, taking the form of a blue and a red imp - Twins. They are, in fact, the only Twins in existence, after a series of twin related crimes when no guilty party could be found, and the constant annoyance twins found from people being unable to tell them apart - all forms of multiple birth vanished into the Book.
The story continues from there, in a similar fashion of chaos and explosions and implosions (the difference in the sound they make being in their spelling).
And of course, there's Rebecca With A Pinch Of Poverty, named in honour of the lovely Rebecca Woodhead, the only person outside of my family who knows what's going to happen to the character.
Not one to miss, if it ever makes it to bookshelves!
And without further adieu, I bid you farewell (and a Happy New Year!)
2 comments:
Wow, this sounds like a very interesting story. Have you finished writing yet or is it still a work in progress? I would definitely be willing to read this book so I hope you do get it published one day.
Hi Jess,
Thanks for the comment! It's still a work in progress. That hasn't stopped me posting some of it on Twitter though - in my attempt to encourage votes for the Shorty Awards, I'm tweeting sentences of the story. What I've posted so far is also in my post for yesterday; I think you just missed it when you were online last.
All the best,
Paul.
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