Fundamentally, this whole discourse is based on the joke I’ve made that the surest way to improve any piece of writing is with the three simple words “When suddenly, ninjas” — basically the same advice as Pulp author Raymond Chandler’s advice to have somebody come through the door with a gun in hand to move the story along.
Now, we’ve established that Yamatai is Realmgard-Japan, but Dragons felt more Fantasy-y than ninjas and I’m not sure Dunstana would have sufficient knowledge of ninjas for that to be the first thing to come to mind.
This was another one that was hard to get 500 words, because it feels like the joke could be successfully delivered at as few as 250-some words. But at this point, I’m too stubborn to reconsider the mission parameters as something other than “Get to 500 words.”
Howard R. Morton stares sceptically down at Dunstana.
“Hear me out,” she tells him. “When, suddenly, a Dragon.”
“I’m sorry?”
“When, suddenly, a Dragon,” Dunstana repeats.
“I heard what you said,” the author notes. “I’m just not sure why you said it?”
“When. Suddenly. A. Dragon,” she says, slowly and clearly.
“Right. But what does that mean?”
Dunstana rolls her eyes.
“Man, your whole job is to do words good. You’d think you’d, you know, be better at words,” she says. “It’s not hard, Mr. Mortguy — like, come on, whenever one of your stories starts getting boring, four simple words to make it instantly awesome: When. Suddenly. A. Dragon. Heroes stopping for the night and think they’re safe? Dragon! Just beat the evil wizard? Dragon! It’s too quiet? Dragon! Gross, boring romance scene? Especially a Dragon!”
Howard R. Morton continues to stare sceptically down at Dunstana.
“Well, you certainly seem to like Dragons,” the author notes.
Dunstana rolls her eyes. “Duh,” she answers. “I’m ten.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that Krimson Katja should fight a Dragon on every page?” Howard says.
Dunstana nods. “Sounds good to me.”
“But that would completely destroy the thematic arc of my stories,” Howards protests.
“Pfft,” Dunstana scoffs. “That’s boring. People don’t read books for that. People read books for the Dragon-fighting! Nobody reads a Krimson Katja story and thinks Wow, you know what this needs? Less action! And what’s more actionful than fighting a Dragon? I did that once, it was awesome.”
“Now, when you say people, do you actually mean people, or do you just mean you?” Howard asks.
“That’s not important,” Dunstana” insists. “What’s important is Dragons. Specifically, fighting them. You need more Dragons, you need bigger Dragons, and whenever there’s no Dragons, your characters should be asking Where’s the Dragons?”
Howard reaches for his notebook and starts writing.
Dunstana grins.
“See? It’s a great idea. Yeah, yeah. Write it down, write it down!”
“Actually,” Howard answers. “You’ve just given me an idea for a new Krimson Katja character.”
“Really? Cool! What kind of character?”
“Well, I’m thinking some kind of horrible, little Imp or Gremlin or something —” he begins, scrawling down notes.
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Dunstana says.
“— Who’s crawled up from the deepest stygian blackness of the lower nether deeps of the infernal regions,” he continues.
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Dunstana says.
“ — and who emerges to haunt Krimson Katja’s every step and every waking moment with pointless, ceaseless natter and obstinate commentary questioning every little thing, and who cannot be silenced nor banished nor exorcised by any mortal craft or skill,” he concludes, at this point literally dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s.
“Okay, cool,” Dunstana says. “Where’d you ever get an idea like that? I never would have thought about something like that. But when Krimson Katja and this Nether-Gremlin, or whatever it is, meet up, you know what has to happen, right?”
She stares expectantly up at the author. He stares expectantly down at her.
“When, suddenly,” Dunstana says, “a Dragon.”
I had to suppress the urge to make the last line of this one “When suddenly, ninjas”…
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