Fan Fiction

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Fan Fiction

Postby diddledop on Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:50 pm

I was just thinking what with the many hyperactive posters in this Room, that perhaps there's a market for some fan fiction. With the consent of the moderator of this Forum, I think maybe I and possibly you and you and you et als may consider writing some fan fiction. Here is a small sample of mine:

THE CASE OF THE MYSTERY WEDDING.

Rumours were flying throughout the world and beyond. Two people in the Out There comic series will marry. But who? Everywhere eveyone is saying "Who?" If you bump into someone on the street, they don't say excuse me, they say "who?" If you order a cheeseburger, the clerk asks if you want the fixins and then asks you if you know who is getting married in "Out There." If you simply glance at a casual passerby, they lock eyeballs with you and loudly ask "who?"

Yes, everyone wants to know who. Who is getting married to whom? Clues have been dropped - we've seen two wedding gowns. Does it mean the bride couldn't decide on one? Does it mean a double wedding? Does it mean that two women will marry two men? If so, does that mean 6 people are getting married?

The President of the United States and the Pope in the Vatican have met and bilaterally discussed this problem. Professors from higher institutions of learning have debated as to whether who is getting married to whom or who is getting married to who or whom is getting married to whom? No one is even sure on the proper wording of the question.

My proposed fan fiction piece, if approved and sanctioned by the esteemed Mod Monroe, will investigate the upcoming Mystery Wedding in Out There. Will this bonding actually occur or is it all in the mind of an obsessed fan fiction writing fan? Is the fanatical fan fanning the flames for a purported bliss that will never be wedded?

To be continued (maybe - oh, I don't know for sure, please don't count on it or bet your lives on it, I'd feel really bad if you did.) I mean if I'm so inspired and so inclined, I'll continue. Maybe the question really is to be or not to be continued ...
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Postby Carlos on Wed Jun 13, 2007 8:25 pm

Whew, I don't have that kind of energy. It's enough to type "www.outtherecomic.com" in my browser window once per day.

But if you want to, I say knock yourself out. :-) Pending permission, of course.
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Bookmarks!

Postby Halgarr on Wed Jun 13, 2007 9:06 pm

The "bookmark" function on your web browser could save you all kinds of work.
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Re: Fan Fiction

Postby rcmonroe on Wed Jun 13, 2007 10:57 pm

diddledop wrote:With the consent of the moderator of this Forum, I think maybe I and possibly you and you and you et als may consider writing some fan fiction.


Maritza Campos' fans have probably written more words about her characters by now than she has--but I don't see the appeal. For me, a big part the fun of writing is I get to make up the characters. Having to conform to someone else's character designs seems more like a chore.

But that's me. I don't object to it, knock yourself out. It's not up to me to tell people how to enjoy my comic strip; I'm grateful that there are people who do.
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Clayton/Sherry revelation

Postby diddledop on Sat Jun 16, 2007 6:17 am

Clayton's Date with Sherry, by cdiddledops

Clayton was surprised - totally. He'd asked Sherry many times before - almost as a joke- if she'd go out with him. He still wondered, was this just a drunken stupor or had she really said "yes?"

"Yes, Clayton, I'll go out with you. Damnit! I will. If this is the last beer I serve, if this is the last drop I drink, the last smoke I sniff, and the last bar I tend, I will go out with you, Clayton _____? Hey, what's your last name anyway?"

"I don't know, Sher. RC Monroe hasn't named me fully yet. I mean it's kind of frustrating. I've never had a last name ever since I was little. The kids and the teachers all made fun of me - Look at Clayton - he's no last name - ha ha, nyuk nyuk, what a smuck! Sher, I think my lack of a last name has driven me to drinking!"

"Hah!" replied Sherry. "Mr. Monroe hasn't exactly explained me to myself or to the readers either. I'm still not sure about what I really want and I guess that's why I've finally decided to date you, Clayton. Maybe I can find out who I really am rather than wait for the big hand with the drawing tool to outline it "out" for me!"

"Gee, Sherry. You're really smarter than I thought. I mean I always thought you were a genius. But - whoaa - to outfox a comic strip author, that's the ultimate intelligence!"

"Yeah, Clay, you and me - we're going on a journey together. We're gonna find out you we really are. Clayton, we can't just be pen and ink, can we? Aren't we something more than that?"

"Sher, please - one more before our date, okay? These deeply probing questions are weighing heavily upon me. Make it extra strong or double it, whatever it may be, whatever drink you choose, I'll drink it."

"Clayton, I don't even really know what you prefer. There's this vague concept of "just alcohol" and I ...." "Sherry, you have to the keys to my soul, you really know me well."

After a few moments of sipping slurping silence, Clayton offered a toast: "Sherry - to our upcoming date whether it be tonight, tomorrow or when the time is right."

"Clayton, we're already on our date. Haven't you noticed that we left the bar hours ago? We're in your apartment!"

"My Gawd, I didn't even notice the change of locales. It must be your beauty which distracted me, Sher. What else could it be? Surely nothing is as intoxicating to me as your beauty is to me, that Grecian face which launched a thousand ships, for which a thousand men died ..."

"Clayton, you haven't looked at or spoken to me for the last 2 hours. You've been asleep. Besides why'd you describe me as having a Grecian face? I don't think I'm Greek. I mean I don't really know what nationality I am. And listen up, Clayton; I don't know my last name either!"

"Sherry, if I was indeed sleeping it was only an excuse so that I could dream beautiful dreams of you and me together at last. BTW, you mean your name isn't Sherry S. Tap. People used to ask me if I'd gone to Sherry's Tap and I thought that was your full name."

"No, Clayton. Sounds like of cute though. Hmmm! Clayton, you're seeming cuter and cuter to me. You have a way or a spin about you. Things are never quite the way they seem or the same after you've made your usual stray comment or two. Your tactlessness is beguiling sometimes!"

"Why, thank you, Sher. I think maybe you're the only person, woman I should say, who really truly appreciates me. Sherry, there's something else I'd like to say and it's not a stray comment and I hope it isn't tactless ... Sherry ... I I .."

"Yes, Clayton, go on. I think I know what you're going to say. And the minute you say it, you may just hear it repeated back to you ..."

"Hmmmm, well, on second thought. No, I must go on. Sherry, there's someone who loves you with a depth, breadth and passion that is boundless in its realms, sinkless in turbulent seas, and held within with a force that tortures the truth within, ravaging the spirit in its quest to be known and told. Until then, there is no peace, there is only addiction, there is only ..."

"Clayton, I can't believe what I think you might be trying to tell me! I'm feeling it; I'm feeling something at last, something for someone I know will forever last, Clayton, go on - Please!!"

"Sherry, there is someone who loves you -- yes, loves you. And that person is, that human being who needs you, who wants you and only you is ...."

"Clayton, please, I can't take this anymore, I can't. My heart is beating wildly, my brain is on fire, a delicious fire, I am tasting an unquenchable thirst that no beverage in my bar can fill ... Clayton, please complete your statement, tell me what I've been wanting to hear, that I didn't even believe I wanted to hear at all ... Clayton ..."

"Sherry, I have to tell you, I must tell you, the truth is ... "

"Yes, Clayton, yes ... oh, please ..."

"Sherry, the person who loves you beyond all logic and reason, beyond convention and beyond what others might say or object to, is ..."

"*******!"

"Gasp!!! Clayton ____________________!!!!!?????

TO BE CONTINUED (When my muse returns, hopefully, that is.)
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Re: Clayton/Sherry revelation

Postby rcmonroe on Sat Jun 16, 2007 11:56 am

diddledop wrote:Hey, what's your last name anyway?"

"I don't know, Sher. RC Monroe hasn't named me fully yet.


I most strenuously object to this accusation.
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Uh oh

Postby diddledop on Sat Jun 16, 2007 4:11 pm

Uh uh uh ... Well, really, what I think it was is that Clayton actually forgot that you had named him. It's probably the drinking, you know. Maybe just a little too much, maybe a wee bit much, maybe a drop too many, maybe a glass too full - if you get what I mean.

Actually, I know there is an explanation for Clayton (Craig's?) comment. He was just a little confused, that's all. I mean I think there is a very valid explanation for this which will save the story and preserve its credibility.

I know, yes, in a future chapter, Clayton (Craig?) will explain his faux pas, his bad, his lapse, his .... I'll leave this to be resolved in a future installment.

Seriously, I hope this has not made my tale less believable. My goal is to make the most realistic story imaginable. So real in fact that you will question what's really real, the story you're reading or whether you've just slipped somehow inextricably into a strange place known as the Twilight Zone!!
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Oh and

Postby diddledop on Sat Jun 16, 2007 4:23 pm

And, too, apparently Sherry forgot that upon meeting him for the first time, he had given his full name. You see, she's so caught up in the passion of the moment on her date with him, that she's forgotten trivial matters like whether he had a full and complete name or not. Last name, middle name, surname, pseudonym, alias, 5th name, junior or senior, ceremonial name, etc. These minor details cannot be that important when you're talking about issues of a romantic nature.

I mean how many of you have forgotten your partner's name from time to time - if not only once - or even whether your partner, spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend ever had a name to begin with? Maybe their parents forgot to name them, what with the jubilant joy of birth, etc? Can a name really be all that important? A child is born for God's sake!!! Whatever his/her name may be. The important fact is that someone has made it into the world.

Actually, I think Sherry will explain this rather odd occurrence in a future installment. (God, where's my muse when I need him/her/it? Seems like my muse took off running ever since Mr. Monroe's rather delicate clarification of the matter.)
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The Conclusion

Postby diddledop on Sun Apr 15, 2012 6:47 am

Thus ends the tale. Thus spake Zarathustra? :o
the NOnOT sHpere . The Queerest Yet which I'd previously not imagined or noted.
It seemed that everyone was awaiting Clayton’s response, his clarification, his denouement. Who is it who loves Sherry? Who?
I dipped my fountain pen in ink; I spilled some on my shirt. A huge blob began to form and I stopped writing. I looked at Sherry and Clayton and something strange began happening. Clayton was shrinking. “Hey, man, what’ve you done? I mean you’re the one who’s wielding a fantastical descriptive and expository instrument. My reality – where is my reality?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Clayton wasn’t supposed to talk to me. He was mere fiction, wasn’t he? “You are fiction, diddledop!” Someone shouted this to me but upon looking around, I saw no one. I turned to Sherry and she was only a picture, an outlining of a portrait, waiting for Rembrandt to come, yes, waiting for Rembrandt to come.
I heard some words coming from beyond. I think they were the author’s telling me: “Hey, get out of my strip! Get Out There and Out!”
My purported story was losing itself, unwriting itself. I was unwriting me out of existence. Clayton continued to shrink. Then I heard an echo. He was no longer visible. He apparently fell inside the bottle :rootbeer: from which he was imbibing his transcendental brew. I looked within. He had company in the bottle, someone who’d been in there for a long time, an infinity. I wondered if that was me.
Amy Winehouse stepped in and asked me: “Aren’t you dead yet?” “Not quite like you,” I said.
I heard a tough drumbeat pounding inside and nails going in. I lay upon a huge platform looking at the sky. I thought I would fall up into it.
“Rescue, rescue!” People were shouting. I saw flashing lights and then the Sun seemed to burn out. There were lonely people walking in a circle on the Moon. I saw them; I knew they were lonely. I could feel it. My head was a prison now. I was a bird in its cage. I sang but no one understood my lyrics. I was crying to get out.
People were falling into my bottle. They were drinking its nectar. Bees stung them and they fell in. My night was all twilighted hues and Van Gogh walked by and asked: “Do you still exist?”
RC Monroe was sleeping. I didn’t dare go near his dream. In his dream, he assumed himself to be fully awake, but he wasn’t. His characters were writing him and now, me.
“Sleep yourself out of here,” said someone who was picnicking on the moon. “Sleep yourself out of loneliness. Sleep yourself into the nucleus of the walkers’ circle. Lay still and come back to life.”
“You make no sense, man.” Who said that? Who, who, who? That was the question awaiting an answer. I could not answer it.
Conclusion of Fan Fiction by diddledop, circa 2012, etc.
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