Going on a Writing Break
Small announcement everyone… I’m going on a writing break.
It’s been a while since I’ve got some serious writing done, so I’ve set myself the ambitious task of taking on 3 writing projects. Here’s a closer look at each of them:
Seaweed and the Carrot Bandits:
Following on from my first children’s fiction book – The Grotty Spoon – will be this little cracker.
The main character (Seaweed) is a little campaigner for Energy Saving in a town where the average household owns 12 TV’s, 156 plug sockets, 3 cars, and one solitary energy saving light bulbs (usually found in the garage). The power hungry Mayor has big plans to build a huge Power Station that will feed the electricity greed of the town. Seaweed is the only one against it. Every campaign to stop the Power Station fails… until he joins a rogue terrorist group called the Carrot Bandits.
I’m really looking forward to sharing it with you all. It’s going to be really fun, extremely silly, and will actually feature a well-thought plot.
49 Excuses & 49 Questions:
It’ll be more of the same silliness alongside even sillier drawings. I’m not going to lie to you so I’ll tell you what I feel in my gut… these are going to be tough to finish but they’ll both be worth the effort.
Unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to keep up the momentum of churning out a cartoon every week. I’ll try my best to throw at least one your way every month but I can’t make any solid promises if I want to finish these 3 writing projects. Anyone who has made it this far into this post most certainly deserves a reward. So here’s a tiny snip-it from Seaweed and the Carrot Bandits:
“W-whoever y-you are I have a b-b-baseball b-bat and I’m not afraid t-to use it”, quivered a familiar voice.
Seaweed could smell the fear dripping from his pathetic father’s forehead (the very same man who once locked himself in the downstairs cupboard for several hours because a spider was sighted in the neighbour’s garden). The frightened voice spoke up with the authority and charisma of a door mat.
“I’m t-turning the light on now so you b-better start r-running.”
“I wouldn’t do that yet”.
“Why n-not”, quivered dad.
“You need to scare me some more before you switch the light on.”
“Well, I know you’re holding a baseball bat but you haven’t told me want you’re going to do with it yet. So come on, make me shake with fear.”
A short pause followed in which the faint sound of a squeaky hamster wheel drifted down the stairs.
“I’m a little out of p-practice at th-threatening b-b-burglars so if you could s-start me off I w-would be very g-g-grateful.”
“You know, ‘I’ll break both your kneecaps you little toerag’ or ‘you’ll never walk again after my baseball bat is through with you’. That kind of thing.”
He cleared his throat and dropped his vocal chords down a couple of semi-tones.
“Y-young man, you should have b-brought a w-w-wheel chair along for this r-robbery because I used to be in my schools r-rounder’s team and although I always m-missed the b-ball I had lots of p-practice at accidently w-whacking my sh-shins, and I can tell you they r-r-really h-hurt and would occasionally leave some very n-nasty bruises.”
If it wasn’t so dark in that hallway you would’ve seen Mr. and Mrs. Tumbleweed and their seven children rolling between Seaweed and his dad on their way to the annual awards ceremony for the best family tumbleweed act.
“You’re not very good at this are you?”
“It’s the n-nerves talking, give m-me another g-go.”
“I think you’ve just missed your chance.”
“Please s-sir. I know I c-can do b-better. You’ll be s-shaking in your b-b-boot this time.”
Seaweed could never miss an opportunity for a good chuckle, which with a father as feeble as his was an hourly occasion.
“Ok bozo, but let me give you a few tips first.”
“Th-th-thank you s-sir.”
“Never, ever thank a burglar! Slap yourself hard in the face.”
SLAP. “I feel b-better already, a-anything else.”
“Keep your threats short and snappy, don’t babble on and on like a Geography Teacher. In fact I have a better idea, a man of your appearance should play to his strengths so forget talking altogether and act like an angry Orangutan.”
“Right, I m-mean… Ook.”