I felt the need for an update

2 02 2008

Note- That title is one that all your creative-writing professors would have marked in big red letters as “drivel” because it does nothing to ‘hook’ its audience.

I had this brilliant idea to dig out a bunch of the stuff I wrote in high school, pick the “best” and put it up here for you to enjoy. Sadly, after much digging through my to-be-scrapbooked pile, the only things I could find were too awful for words. Middle school vs high school and too choppy/sentimental/badly punctuated to bear.

I know I wrote a particularly hideous fiction sometime in Senior year that I believe took place in a book store and involved some kind of fanged monster…

I’ve just had a thought! I forget that I stored all of that stuff on our big [ancient] family computer. *Pause*

I knew I’d find something… one of our creative writing assignments was to take one cast of characters, and one setting, and make a bunch of different genres of stories about them. Below you shall find the introduction to the characters and the ‘comedy’ story.

Bear in mind that this was written years ago. I’ve given it to you all just as I found it, mistakes, punctuation and spelling completely as-is. I think that just makes it more funny!


                 Bill Waters is the sixty-something proprietor of the local bookstore, Veritas. A fan of dead languages and large words, Bill can usually be found behind the counter, reading. A widower with no children, Bill’s three joys in life are books, animals and vanilla pipe tobacco. 

             A tall man, with balding hair and bifocals, he usually has a mouse in his vest pocket, and well-worn leather slippers on his feet. A picture of the elderly scholar, he keeps peppermint candies in with the mouse, for the children who visit his shop. Not quite as absent minded as some, Bill still tends to lose precious manuscripts in the non-fiction section of his establishment.

           Miranda (Mira for short) is a seventeen-year-old book lover. She would rather read than do just about anything else. So, in exchange for working at Veritas every day after school, she gets free books from Mr. Waters. Though not stunningly beautiful, Mira is far from ugly. If you look long enough you’d see that, though her eyes may not be exactly symmetrical, they are a stunning shade of olive. 

                   Mira enjoys teasing Karl, who also works at the store, and reading travel books. She is constantly adopting stray cats and bringing them to live at Veritas. (Where Mr. Waters was forced to put up a sign alerting all of those with cat allergies to slip their orders under the door.)  She adores rain and thinks there is nothing better than tea, a book, and new kittens. 

                  Karl is a twenty-year-old dark haired young man with a penchant for biting commentary and eclectic music. He convinced Mr. Waters to add an espresso machine and some easy chairs, hypothetically to encourage business. So he spends his days making coffee and reading murder mysteries. An orphan with a sketchy background, Karl found his place when he met Mr. Waters.             Karl’s biggest dream is to move to New York and work behind stage on Broadway. (Something he keeps very secret.) You’ll often find him trying to fit his extremely long limbs into a comfy position on his stool while balancing a mocha and the latest mystery. In protest to Mira’s cats, Karl often brings in chinchillas to break up the monotony. His particular pet is a three-legged Chinchilla named Yoshi Tripod. 

            Veritas is a large, studio-style building with three floors. The first floor is paneled in dark mahogany and covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves. The second floor is actually a loft, which opens and looks down on the first floor. Above the loft is Mr. Water’s apartment.

                      Not the traditional bookstore, Veritas is sandwiched very firmly between the local art gallery and a tiny Italian restaurant. It is on a wide street that opens right off of the small town’s old Main Street. All the buildings in the ‘old’ part of town seem to be always looming over you but Veritas is the exception. Large and sunny, with book for any interest, it is listed on tourist maps as a “must”. (A fact that makes Mr. Waters shake his head at the town big-wigs.)   Comedy-

                   The three employees of Veritas, the towns’ one and only bookstore, scurried like ants whose nest had been stepped on by a large unwelcome shoe. Miranda hung posters and a welcome banner while Karl cleaned out the espresso machine. Mr. Waters’ furrowed his brow as he glanced out the window to the mob outside the door.

            Today was a big day at Veritas. Anthony Christoph was coming to their sleepy town for a book signing. His latest piece, Bibliomaniacs and the People Who Love Them, had already sold more than two million copies and he was arriving within the hour.

            “Karl did you make cheese danish this morning? I’m told that Mr. Christoph has to have cheese danish at eleven o’clock precisely.” Mr. Waters’ eyebrows drew together at the thought that maybe Karl had forgotten this all-important fact.

            “Mr. Waters you’ve asked me that three times this morning. Yes I have the danish and yes I will remember to put nutmeg on his mocha. It’s under control.” Karl looked exasperated and rolled him eyes at Miranda.

            From one of the tall ladders Miranda’s voice came soaring towards the front of the store. “He’s here! And he’s early.”

            Dashing to the windows Karl and Mr. Waters looked out. A dumpy looking taxi had pulled up outside the door. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, a tall, bookish looking man got out.

            “That must be him,” Miranda stated, “only an author would dare to wear a beret in public these days.”

            But as they watched, another man got out of the car, this one was wearing a mint green suit and purple suede shoes. In awe the three stood watching this person approach.

            “Hullo little people! I am here. You may proceed with ze rejoicing.” Andrew Christoph swept into the shop like a Technicolor monstrosity. He was followed closely by the bookish man, who seemed to be trying desperately not to smile.

            “Um… It’s nice to have you. Please won’t you sit here?” Mr. Waters led Mr. Christoph to his chair.

            “Yes I will, if you will please to find me a sheet.” Mr. Christoph looked down his long nose at Miranda. “And ze tall one, he must bring ze coffee.” He pointed majestically at Karl.

            “Uh, a sheet, sir? What for?” Miranda was beginning to wonder about this man.

            “For my head. So the peasants, they do not see me. You understand? I must be a mystery, else, why would zey come?”

            “They come to see you. And how can you sign books with a sheet over your head?”

            “Oh I never sign ze books. I only look carefully at zem. This is much ze same, yes? Ze signature, it means nothing.” Andrew was busily turning round and round in his swivel chair.

            So Miranda, after a look from Mr. Waters, fetched a dusty sheet for Mr. Christoph who began busily cutting eyeholes for himself. As soon as Andrew announced everything to his satisfaction Mr. Waters opened the shop and began letting people in. As one might expect, irate customer after irate customer was left holding an unsigned book, complaining loudly to the three Veritas employees.

            At one point the noise was so deafening that Yoshi Tripod, the store’s chinchilla could be seen busily trying to burrow through the floor of his hutch to escape the general uproar.

            After the allotted two hours of book signing, it was a relieved Mr. Waters who showed the eccentric author to his taxi, still trailing the dusty sheet with only his purple suede shoes and his two eyes showing.

            As they watched the taxi bumble its way down the narrow street the three employees let out a general sigh of relief.

            “I’m praying no one else shows up today. I’d rather just close up shop and crawl into bed,” Mr. Waters face was an exhausted gray colour as he bent over a cup of coffee.

            At that moment someone knocked demandingly on the door.

            Karl sighed. “You spoke too soon.”

            Miranda opened the door to find a very nice looking middle aged man in tweeds peering up at her through his glasses.

            “Excuse me, but I’m afraid I am terribly late. Is Mr. Waters in, please?” The man asked.

            “Can I help you?” Mr. Waters asked as Miranda let the man in.

            “Yes, I’m Andrew Christoph. I’m sorry I’m so beastly late but my plane was held over. We can reschedule if you like.”

            “You are not Andrew Christoph.” Karl was unbelieving. “Christoph’s already been here. Made a proper mess of it to. We don’t want any more today.”

            “I’m sorry young man but I am Andrew Christoph. Unless I’ve made a larger mistake than I realize. But there is only one of me and this one would like to know what’s going on.” The man drew himself up indignantly.

            “We had a man come in saying that he was Andrew Christoph. He did the book signing, or rather, he didn’t. He left just a few minutes ago.” Mr. Waters explained weakly.

            “Was he by any chance wearing purple suede shoes?” The man looked suddenly interested.

            “Yes he was, in fact.”

            “Ah, I thought so. That would be my brother Andy. I’m afraid he’s a little bit loony. Likes to find out where my book signings are and crash them. Usually I catch him in time.”

            “There was a man with him, though.” Miranda protested.

            “My cousin Abel. Thinks it’s funny to let Andy out and watch the disaster. I’d better be going now. Someone’s got to lock Andy back up. I’ll give you a ring to reschedule.” With that, the man in tweeds was gone.

            “Well,” Miranda breathed indignantly, “The least they could have done is warn us! It very rude of them to just let their crazy relatives wander around like that. And he took the sheet!”





5 responses

3 02 2008
Jason Ericson

Hahaha, that was some good stuff actually. I really like the format of the first one, like just a string of character bios, but with kind of a story behind it too. The comedy one was pretty good too, especially Andy’s character, he was great.

And Yoshi Tripod is one of the greatest names I’ve ever, ever heard. Seriously…what?! Amazing.

3 02 2008
Jason Ericson

And I just noticed that the first one was supposed to be an introduction. Ah. I thought it was a stand-alone story. Still! I liked it.

3 02 2008
Jason Ericson

And if you want to see a much more twisted, bizarre and flat-out stupid example of high school creative fiction, I just posted one on my blog. I mean…I think it’s funny…

3 02 2008

Yoshi tripod is actually the name of a real chinchilla that I knew in my childhood. My best friends mom worked at a frame shop where the owner kept her three-legged chinchilla in the back. He was awesome, mostly because of his name.

I wish I could take credit for him, but I really can’t.

4 02 2008
Jennifer James

Meghan I think it’s really funny! You crack me up.

I heart Yoshi Tripod.

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