One moment, the foobs were in a teal-and-lavender monstrosity of a wedding, and the next they were propelled back into the past. But it was a different version of the past. What happened?
That explains why the Hell people's ages vary a lot better than Lynn's failure to keep things consistent. It's a good thing for Elly's peace of mind that she doesn't know what's happened to the last set of idiots who thought they could bend reality to their will. We know that, eventually, her stupidity and smugness will bring her screaming back to the present day she hates because of her immaturity and hatefulness; she cannot.
This exactly what we'd expect from a Patterson in the real world: If at first you don't succeed, stop, stop trying. One publisher rejected Elly's work- so she's done with writing, and will move on to something else.
Of course, in the Foobiverse, Pattersons never have to "try, try again," because the first time they make even the most half-assed attempt to do anything, they get jobs, boyfriends, houses, and huge advances.
Of course, in the Foobiverse, Pattersons never have to "try, try again," because the first time they make even the most half-assed attempt to do anything, they get jobs, boyfriends, houses, and huge advances.
Too true--dealing with rejection is an alien concept to those who have no idea what it is.
dreadedcandiru2, blogger eat my reply--I was going to say, "Elly's all about the hubris; these things never go well."
I know that Elly is all about the hubris; that's why I've started calling her journal the Foob Note. All she's doing is supplying some Ryuk-wannabe with some cheap laughs.
You should definitely launch FOOBAR merchandising, and along with it, press releases about FOOBAR merchandising gone bad.
"To My Readers: I'm so sorry that the FOOBAR t-shirts are behind schedule. I contracted with a factory in Zimbabwe, only to realize that country is in total economic collapse. But there was really no way to foresee that, since I don't have time to read a newspaper every day."
A month later: "To My Patient Readers: There is again a delay on the FOOBAR t-shirts. I contracted with a factory in Cambodia to make them. However, I hired a local attorney and interpreter who advertised himself as a 'bargain', and the contract mistakenly stipulated that the shirts should have three arms instead of two. Oops! I should have known that it was a bad idea to find lawyers the same way I find husbands--by taking the first guy who's interested. Live and learn!"
And a few months later: "Patient Readers: There is again a delay on the FOOBAR t-shirts. When they arrived in North America, I had them stored in an abandoned warehouse that was condemned (in order to save money and keep the cost to a low $29.99 per shirt/$39.99 CDN). Faulty wiring caused the warehouse to burn down in the dead of night. Whoops! It never occurred to me that might be a problem."
A year and a half later: "Readers! The FOOBAR t-shirts have finally arrived! They are a disturbingly attractive puce color and come in sizes XL-XXXXXL. You will look so fetching in these oversized garments, made of a sturdy and stiff 50% hemp/50% polyester blend. Wear it for a night out on the town, or pitch one as a tent in your backyard! (Stakes not included.) These, um, things are just what you've always wanted to give as a gift, or to use to clean up chemical spills in your garage! Only $49.99 apiece!"
I love that idea, qnjones. "How was I to know that the FOOBAR teething rings I'd subcontracted to outer Mongolia would be made of pure lead? Not to worry, I'll make the back the money I lost in that transaction through a deal I have in the works with deposed Nigerian royalty. Sh, it's a secret deal, so I can't give you any details, other than ch-CHING!" ;)
But I read in it a woman who HAS changed what she wanted to change. That she can't change the publisher's mind is none of her business; that she can change her children's ages at will is.
9 comments:
That explains why the Hell people's ages vary a lot better than Lynn's failure to keep things consistent. It's a good thing for Elly's peace of mind that she doesn't know what's happened to the last set of idiots who thought they could bend reality to their will. We know that, eventually, her stupidity and smugness will bring her screaming back to the present day she hates because of her immaturity and hatefulness; she cannot.
This exactly what we'd expect from a Patterson in the real world: If at first you don't succeed, stop, stop trying. One publisher rejected Elly's work- so she's done with writing, and will move on to something else.
Of course, in the Foobiverse, Pattersons never have to "try, try again," because the first time they make even the most half-assed attempt to do anything, they get jobs, boyfriends, houses, and huge advances.
Of course, in the Foobiverse, Pattersons never have to "try, try again," because the first time they make even the most half-assed attempt to do anything, they get jobs, boyfriends, houses, and huge advances.
Too true--dealing with rejection is an alien concept to those who have no idea what it is.
dreadedcandiru2, blogger eat my reply--I was going to say, "Elly's all about the hubris; these things never go well."
Reality is what I make of it, that should be a tee shirt.
Reality is what I make of it, that should be a tee shirt.
I'll keep that in mind for when I launch the FOOBAR merchandising. ;)
April_Patterson,
I know that Elly is all about the hubris; that's why I've started calling her journal the Foob Note. All she's doing is supplying some Ryuk-wannabe with some cheap laughs.
You should definitely launch FOOBAR merchandising, and along with it, press releases about FOOBAR merchandising gone bad.
"To My Readers: I'm so sorry that the FOOBAR t-shirts are behind schedule. I contracted with a factory in Zimbabwe, only to realize that country is in total economic collapse. But there was really no way to foresee that, since I don't have time to read a newspaper every day."
A month later: "To My Patient Readers: There is again a delay on the FOOBAR t-shirts. I contracted with a factory in Cambodia to make them. However, I hired a local attorney and interpreter who advertised himself as a 'bargain', and the contract mistakenly stipulated that the shirts should have three arms instead of two. Oops! I should have known that it was a bad idea to find lawyers the same way I find husbands--by taking the first guy who's interested. Live and learn!"
And a few months later: "Patient Readers: There is again a delay on the FOOBAR t-shirts. When they arrived in North America, I had them stored in an abandoned warehouse that was condemned (in order to save money and keep the cost to a low $29.99 per shirt/$39.99 CDN). Faulty wiring caused the warehouse to burn down in the dead of night. Whoops! It never occurred to me that might be a problem."
A year and a half later: "Readers! The FOOBAR t-shirts have finally arrived! They are a disturbingly attractive puce color and come in sizes XL-XXXXXL. You will look so fetching in these oversized garments, made of a sturdy and stiff 50% hemp/50% polyester blend. Wear it for a night out on the town, or pitch one as a tent in your backyard! (Stakes not included.) These, um, things are just what you've always wanted to give as a gift, or to use to clean up chemical spills in your garage! Only $49.99 apiece!"
::snerk::
I love that idea, qnjones. "How was I to know that the FOOBAR teething rings I'd subcontracted to outer Mongolia would be made of pure lead? Not to worry, I'll make the back the money I lost in that transaction through a deal I have in the works with deposed Nigerian royalty. Sh, it's a secret deal, so I can't give you any details, other than ch-CHING!" ;)
Failure? Maybe...
But I read in it a woman who HAS changed what she wanted to change. That she can't change the publisher's mind is none of her business; that she can change her children's ages at will is.
Of course, as WE know, her magic was sloppy.
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