I am a writer. Not an author, though perhaps someday... I have been writing stories of one form or another since I was very young. When I was in the hospital, having my tonsils removed at 16, I asked for my typewriter - non-electric, because it was that long ago.
Sherry always loved my stories, and she tells me that I used to spin yarns to her back when we were dating and engaged. Perhaps I did. That was another life ago. In all honesty, I write them all for her. She is and will always be my muse, and if I ever get stuck all I have to do is just talk with her and the words flow.
Tim will always be the one I call the worlds leading funny stuff-ologist. He has such a quick and witty mind that sometimes it just spins me around and around. He and I banter so well together that Susi just likes to listen to him and I talk about absolutely nothing. Abbott and Costello, with out that rancor. I enjoy it as well, or else I wouldn't do it.
Now... one day, at a Pub Night when it was just us three, years ago, Tim and I were having a mock argument about which was better; Bags or Pockets.
You see, Tim carries a bag with him where ever he goes. It almost always has some sort of utility knife, like a Swiss Army knife, in it, as well as any number of other things. His argument that a bag keeps all of his necessities in one place, easy to find.
I argued, and still will to this day, that pockets are the best, because that way you can separate and organize what you are carrying. If I need to find my money, I know where it is. If I need to find a receipt for a purchase I made a week ago, I know exactly where it is. I don't like T-shirts without pockets, because I almost always carry something in every pocket.
Sherry watched us toss our arguments back and forth for a few minutes, and then burst out laughing. "Mister Bags," she laughed, "meet Mister Pockets." Then she turned to me and said, "You should write a story about those two."
And so, after leaving the pub, I went home, sat at the computer and wrote the first four thousand words of The City of Tears, the very first Bags, Pockets and Grizelda story.
Grizelda came about because Sherry would adopt a gypsy character at some of the Halloween parties my wife and I used to host and tell fortunes. She gave Grizelda a bronx jewish sort of voice and demeanor. I gave Grizelda the wisdom of the ages.
To understand Bags, Pockets and Grizelda, all you have to do is think of Bing and Bob and Dorothy Lamour. Make Bing this rather large and strong weapons master, Bob this short, balding childlike genius, and Dorothy... well... she's pretty much the same. Grizelda is the binding and grounding force of reason. She's a healer and an Earth Mother.
In City of Tears, BP&G come across a city in the desert after running for their lives after Pockets innocently stole some jewelry. Well, as innocent as Pockets can be, anyway. The city is named Tears and the King is a sad little man named Jorge. Jorge doesn't really run the city. It's run by an evil Chancellor named Beegle and his band of henchmen. Our heroes get caught up in a plot to do away with the king and foil the evil Beegle's plans. Jorge, who finally comes to his right mind, abdicates the thrown, placing Bags in his place.... a prospect that Bags would rather not happen.
There have been three books written about them. City of Tears. Bangala. and umm... The Mad Wizard. The fourth is in progress and it will be the last of the series.
For some reason, BP&G has attained a very small, though loyal following. Susi refers to us at BP&G, and every so often I'm accused of having a Pockets moment. I rather like it.
The three of us, Tim, Sherry and me... Bags, Griz and me... have sat at a table in a pub when we get a moment to just be us three, alone. We'll chat for a bit, laugh for a bit, and there will be a toast somewhere in there. It's a toast that I think fits. One of us will raise a glass and propose, "To legends!"
Part Tre - The birth of Pockets, Bags, and Grizelda.
Date: 2008-12-06 07:15 am (UTC)Sherry always loved my stories, and she tells me that I used to spin yarns to her back when we were dating and engaged. Perhaps I did. That was another life ago. In all honesty, I write them all for her. She is and will always be my muse, and if I ever get stuck all I have to do is just talk with her and the words flow.
Tim will always be the one I call the worlds leading funny stuff-ologist. He has such a quick and witty mind that sometimes it just spins me around and around. He and I banter so well together that Susi just likes to listen to him and I talk about absolutely nothing. Abbott and Costello, with out that rancor. I enjoy it as well, or else I wouldn't do it.
Now... one day, at a Pub Night when it was just us three, years ago, Tim and I were having a mock argument about which was better; Bags or Pockets.
You see, Tim carries a bag with him where ever he goes. It almost always has some sort of utility knife, like a Swiss Army knife, in it, as well as any number of other things. His argument that a bag keeps all of his necessities in one place, easy to find.
I argued, and still will to this day, that pockets are the best, because that way you can separate and organize what you are carrying. If I need to find my money, I know where it is. If I need to find a receipt for a purchase I made a week ago, I know exactly where it is. I don't like T-shirts without pockets, because I almost always carry something in every pocket.
Sherry watched us toss our arguments back and forth for a few minutes, and then burst out laughing. "Mister Bags," she laughed, "meet Mister Pockets." Then she turned to me and said, "You should write a story about those two."
And so, after leaving the pub, I went home, sat at the computer and wrote the first four thousand words of The City of Tears, the very first Bags, Pockets and Grizelda story.
Grizelda came about because Sherry would adopt a gypsy character at some of the Halloween parties my wife and I used to host and tell fortunes. She gave Grizelda a bronx jewish sort of voice and demeanor. I gave Grizelda the wisdom of the ages.
To understand Bags, Pockets and Grizelda, all you have to do is think of Bing and Bob and Dorothy Lamour. Make Bing this rather large and strong weapons master, Bob this short, balding childlike genius, and Dorothy... well... she's pretty much the same. Grizelda is the binding and grounding force of reason. She's a healer and an Earth Mother.
In City of Tears, BP&G come across a city in the desert after running for their lives after Pockets innocently stole some jewelry. Well, as innocent as Pockets can be, anyway. The city is named Tears and the King is a sad little man named Jorge. Jorge doesn't really run the city. It's run by an evil Chancellor named Beegle and his band of henchmen. Our heroes get caught up in a plot to do away with the king and foil the evil Beegle's plans. Jorge, who finally comes to his right mind, abdicates the thrown, placing Bags in his place.... a prospect that Bags would rather not happen.
There have been three books written about them. City of Tears. Bangala. and umm... The Mad Wizard. The fourth is in progress and it will be the last of the series.
For some reason, BP&G has attained a very small, though loyal following. Susi refers to us at BP&G, and every so often I'm accused of having a Pockets moment. I rather like it.
The three of us, Tim, Sherry and me... Bags, Griz and me... have sat at a table in a pub when we get a moment to just be us three, alone. We'll chat for a bit, laugh for a bit, and there will be a toast somewhere in there. It's a toast that I think fits. One of us will raise a glass and propose, "To legends!"
I rather like that too.
And that is the story of how Pockets came to be.