The Writing of a Classic Childrens Book

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All I need is a couple of characters and a vague idea to expand upon in one of an infinite number of directions, this should be a piece of cake.


..."It was a meteorologically describable evening, and the author was scrabbling around for a better line to begin his narrative with..."


Okay, not a good start; self reference is the tool of lesser writers. Right, back to the grind stone. Roald Dahl's grand daughter, here I come!


..."Slowly at first, but gathering speed, Lance watched in horror as it rose up before him, its colossal head rearing round to face him.... despite the dramatic opening, putting Menthos into coke hadn't been quite as eventful as Lance thought."


I see the problem here, it was a pretty gay starting point and therefore I felt like I couldn't continue. And Lance, come on, I mean seriously, I can think up much better names than that.


..."BAM! Everyone died. Which in turn, effectively ruled out all prospect of the story that could have followed."


Well that was stupid.


"...When I was doing yo mumma last nigh- *lawsuit interrupts story*"


Blast, there goes my pocket money. If push comes to shove it seems I'll now be bribing publishers with "favours" as opposed to money...


..."Percy looked left and right, 'If only the name Percy wasn't so comparable to a positive integer between 1 and 3' he thought to himself."


This is starting to get annoying.


..."Harry Potter, and Frodo Baggins didn't care much for copyright laws. It's a shame their authors did."


Oh come on, what is up with me today? I need a drink.


The Author downs a couple cans of Budweiser[edit | edit source]

Now, where was I?


..."'Who's your daddy?' wheezed the old man, painfully drawing the words out from his ashen lungs and evil heart. The kid shrunk back in horror."


Whoops, maybe I should lay off the alcohol; I'm not writing from personal experience this time, focus.


..."The global economy is determined by several factors in the financial sector, most of them intrinsically linked with each other, amongst some wider variables. For example in Canada..."


That beginning is so lame I actually cried. I can almost hear Tolkein turning in his grave, maybe I shouldn't have made love to his corpse...


..."And they all lived happily ever after, except on Wednesdays when the councillors would all dress up in gimp costumes and reign fire upon the town's cheese industry."


WHAT THE FECK?!?!?! That's a freaking ending not a beginning, damn you hippocampus, damn you pituitary gland, damn you nerve centres. Think properly!


..."THE END"


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!1!111one


Epilogue[edit | edit source]

After two more attempts at beginning his story the author slashed his wrists with a watch strap before using the last of his energy to shoot himself in the face. Blood poured everywhere, all over him and his desk. Minute indentations in the desk caused the blood to collect in very specificly letter shaped pools on his paper. Several hours later one of the cleaners came in to tidy up the room and perform the author's daily testicle massage, seeing the manuscript formed by dried blood, he grabbed it, stuffed it unceremoniously under his shirt and ran to the nearest publishers. Within two weeks he was the richest man on the face of the earth, the manuscript had gone multi-platinum; numerous sequels spin-offs were written and rewritten, each of them becoming majorly successful.

The author's body remained under the floorboards for several years, before successfully being crushed into nothingness by two fat people having sex directly above it.

See Also[edit | edit source]