Our First Date Movie

ladyeye

            House sitting usually entailed watching an empty house. Easy way to make beer money for professional college dropout Dunker Blooze. He did it for Mrs. Simpson whenever she went out of town. A few peaceful, relaxing days away from his mom and dad.

            But this time something startled Dunker awake. Beneath the silk sheets, Dunker’s skin rippled, each hair on his naked body took a moment to stand at attention. He’d promised Mrs. Simpson he’d stay on the couch, but how could he resist the silk sheets on her waterbed. And all that lotion he’d discovered while rivaling through her panty drawer. Going to bed here had become an event for Dunker.

It came again. From the sitting area of the large master bedroom. He’d pounded a lot of beer last night, Dunker’s full bladder recoiled from the fright and he peed a little.

He lowered the sheets beneath his eyes and glanced around. The only light came from the digital clock next to the bed. Dunker had found a wide array of toys in the nightstand; Mrs. Simpson kept Barbie dolls and Lego’s in there for her grandkids. She had no pets; nothing in this house should make a sound. 

            The noise erupted, fouler this time. A short, sharp burst. It had a horrible phlegminess about it.

            “Who’s there?” Dunker asked, scooting off the wet spot he’d just made.

            Silence. More silence. Even more silence. Then snort.

            Dunker sat up rigid. “Get out! Please! Don’t hurt me! Please! Pretty please!” He'd heard the paranormal rewarded politeness.

            He gulped, trying to catch his breath. His heart hammered like a hammer hammering.

            Then he saw it. Sitting in the cushy recliner. Curled up tight. A man. A transparent man, glowing as if painted with phosphorate paint. A spirit.

And he was snoring.

            As Dunker tried to decide whether to run for the bathroom or finish relieving himself on the bed, one of the ghost’s eyes fluttered open, staring at him. 'Evil' gleamed off the glowing orb, turned out to be the reflection of an inspirational poster with the word 'Live' on it. 

            “Hey!” the ghost croaked. “Could you keep it down? I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

THE END

Oh… I’m calling this story: PARANORMAL INACTIVITY.

So I’ve been getting a bit frustrated lately. With many aspects of the publishing business. Okay… ALL aspects of the publishing business.  I know, I know… this surprises many of you.

Still… it’s true. I’ve finally… FINALLY reached the Wits End.

(Their apple pie is delish! It’s covered in this caramel sauce and served with whipped cream)

So I decided I needed some heavy duty support. The heaviest and the doodiest. That’s right. I needed THE BIG GUY!!!

No! Not The Big Guy (a.k.a. Mr. Carlson) from WKRP in Cincinnati… from God. THE Big Guy!

God responded immediately, almost as though he’d been waiting for my scream… er, my call. He was VERY understanding and VERY optimistic. We had a pretty good conversation, and I must say, I learned many shocking things.

About Him…

For example, did you know the Bible was His fourth book… His first published work? His first two books, both fiction, are still in the trunk after receiving nothing but form rejections. He said, and this made me laugh, a few agents didn’t EVEN RESPOND to his query! And he told me with a wink, they’re roasting in Hell for all eternity.
 
His third book, a non-fiction account of the existence of anti-matter, made it to acquisitions, but eventually was rejected since it was longer than Stephen King’s upcoming ‘Under the Dome’ and, back then, papyrus was very hard to come by. The banks of the Nile would be wiped clean just for the ARCs.

Finally... with some help from a saintly group of writers, He wrote His masterpiece. The Bible! He had a feeling this was the one!

Using AgentQuery.com and Querytracker.net… He selected his top tier of agents and off went the queries. But the rejections poured in again. A distant, distant relative of Nathan Bransford, Ishmeal Bransford...
 


...pointed out that God shouldn’t have opened His query with the rhetorical question, “Have you ever wanted to create a Universe in Six Days?”.

Finally, an agent named Jehoshaphat Goldblatt requested a full of The Bible. God was certain His book was going to be in every Motel/Hotel room on His planet. But Jehoshaphat passed, sighting the overuse of the word ‘begot’. But God wouldn't budge on that one. After months of revising and submitting, God eventually found the perfect agent (He wouldn’t give me a name or gender) and the rest is ancient history.

So, He told me to NEVER give up. If it could happen to the Almighty… it could happen to me. And I believe Him.

Oh! And just recently God finished writing a Middle Grade book for boys called ‘The Adventures of Balloon Boy.” But after the recent news, He placed it in the trunk. God isn’t very happy with Freewill sometimes.