The manuscript is secure, and I’m about 50% through the second draft. That’s the good news….
The bad news? I’ve resorted to posting from a secret location. The house is lost. My family is under suspicion. Assistant Steve has been hospitalized with fourth degree burns. But whomever is responsible for these attacks must know … my masterpiece survives.
The ninjas should have set off warning bells. Well, not ACTUAL warning bells, they’re ninjas after all. But they should have roused my suspicions when they accosted Steve and set him on fire. Sure, it’s happened before, but they used napalm this time, leaving terrible burn marks in the carpet and the dishes half-done.
As usual, I sent the minions (ie, my children) to investigate. The Doctor, our oldest, concocted a plan. With some calculated surveillance and no small measure of hacking, he traced the ninjas to my neighbor Krandal. After transferring an unknown sum from Krandal’s savings account for reasons that are his own, he sent the middle-children (designated The Master and Garlic Burrito) to infiltrate Krandal’s “house”.
The ninjas were sneaky, as they tend to be. They left no evidence of their presence; but after several hours of interrogation, Krandal admitted that there were “ninjas, spaceships, whatever you want, just drop the pliers and untie me.”
The kids, overjoyed at the confession, returned home to eat candy. It wasn’t long, however, until the police arrived. Krandal must have connections. The kids disappeared into the forest with the candy stash, and I made my way to the panic room. The doors closed just in time, as my darling wife Clementine descended the stairs trailed by a “friendly officer with a few questions”.
I waited for several days, until the stench of my latrine was overpowering. Then I unlocked the bolts and fled.
It had to be the manuscript they were after. Nothing else makes sense.
I’m being scuttled from the country by my rich Nigerian relatives. If you see my wife, tell her I love her. If you see Assistant Steve, please tell him that I love him too, that I hope he gets better, and that he better clean the carpet and finish the dishes OR ELSE. If you see the kids, please take the candy away from the diabetic one (it’ll be the one who’s only partially responsive, dialated pupils, and a pronounced limp — I can’t remember which one it is, I just check each time for symptoms).
I’ll let you know more when I can. Just know that any delays to my original publication schedule are completely rational. It’s not procrastination, writer’s block, or a busy schedule. It’s the ninjas’ fault.
[Note: this post is merely an excuse for my tardiness on the final manuscript. In no way is it associated with the plot or characters in my novels. So there!]