Thirteen books

Launching into this, I have no idea whether I have thirteen books in me. If I come up short, y’all are going to have to suggest a few.

Here goes nothing.

1. Your Nose, A User’s Guide. I see this as the start of a bestselling trilogy (your ears, your throat, etc.) After number three, my publisher will beg for more.

I’ll say, “But I don’t know anything about other parts of the body!”

“Sure you do,” says Ms. Publisher, whereupon I author Your Balls, A User’s Guide, and Your Dick, A User’s Guide.

After that, I’d really be pantsing it.

2. Serious literachoor. Dean’s to blame for this. In his crit of my romance-in-progress, he suggested I had two novels rolled into one, a romance and a serious coming-of-age story about a doctor in training. I know I could write that. I don’t know if I could handle the idea of writing serious literachoor.

3. A medical cozy, a hospital version of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. Everyone takes a hand in offing the victim, from the ER doc to the anesthesiologist to the housekeeper.

Drat, I gave away the ending!

4. I need to finish editing the damnable SF trilogy (Nest/Flight/Shrike) so I can send it out. Damn that damnable monster. Does this count for three of my thirteen?

5. And I WILL finish editing Technical Virgins.

6. Sequel to the damnable SF trilogy, which would involve my surviving bird characters, meeting up a few years later on a planet populated by sentient amphibians. I have this one fairly well outlined in my brain, but the trilogy needs to sell first.

7. Novel version of “The Mechanic”. The story gives a strong indication of what happens to the two boys after they’ve grown up — that’s the story I want to write.

8. I know I have a YA story in me, too. At least one. You know how in some YA stories, the protagonist comes to appreciate his life and his family? “There’s No Place Like Home Stories,” that’s what I call them.

Well, eff that. My story would turn that trope on its head. Our protag’s initial mild queasiness with his life would evolve into outright disgust at his friends, parents, and home town.

I see this one as upbeat, cheery, a real grin-fest.

9. I’d like to write a YA love story, too. Cuz, being in love as a kid? Doesn’t get much more melodramatic than that.

10. A novel-length version of Bare Rump’s Diary. But is the world ready for the travelogue of a ten-foot-long sentient spider with a fondness for romance novels and human flesh?

Ack! Ten. That’s all I have. I’ll post more if I think of any, but for now, think about it: what would you like to read from me?

You know what to do. Leave comments, and I’ll link ya below . . . whether you’ve written a thirteen or not. (Why be exclusive?)

Stephen holds forth one The Heroine

Darla’s short list (so many guys to do, so little time to do ’em in)

May has posts from Alyssa Brooks and Sasha White

Trish is having a punny day

Alethea probably has more than thirteen things to be proud of

Renee posed for me! She really posed for me!

Kate gives us thirteen opening paragraphs. Nope, I didn’t recognize a single one.

Amelia’s X-Men spoilers Another woman with a Huge Ackman fetish. What is it about that dude?

D.

10 Comments

  1. Stephen says:

    Your Nose, A User’s Guide

    This rather reminds me of that old Reader’s Digest series with articles like “I am John’s pituitary gland”, except I now can’t see that without imagining the thyroid jumping up and saying “No, I am John’s pituitary gland!”, and the islets of langerhans joining in with “No, we are John’s pituitary gland,” before the adrenal cortex chips in with “I am John’s pituitary gland and so is my medulla.”

    Free association has a lot to answer for in this post-Python age.

  2. Darla says:

    Huh. I knew engineers couldn’t count without using calculators–I didn’t know that was true of docs as well. I count 14 books there. 16, if you include the balls & dicks books. 🙂

    As for what I’d like to read from you? I’d like to re-read Technical Virgins when I’m not feeling brain-dead so I can send you semi-literate comments.

    My TT’s up. I even gave you props. 🙂

  3. May says:

    I don’t have a TT at either of my blogs today. I’m just lazy. So I’m not blogging today. Or yesterday, if you prefer.

    Also, how could you NOT put a Spew alert on that!

  4. trish says:

    I’m back, and I’ve posted my TT. 🙂

    I think I’d be interested in your User’s Guide to the Nose.. I consider myself lucky when I remember that I’ve left mine in the middle of my face.

  5. Alethea says:

    Sorry, the real laugh-out-loud happened on reading Stephen’s comment. I could too well picture it. And the pineal gland, feeling all alone and neglected up there?

    #8 and 9 – right there with you. Those are the ones I’m attempting to work on. Except the kid’s 35. But hell, he was a kid once. And that’s when much of the interesting action happens. And earlier. My take on that trope is “you can never go home again”. Its corollary is “are you sure you know where home is?”

  6. Renee says:

    So, a week later, I gave in. It’s not a Thursday Thirteen, but was surprisingly fun.
    http://paintedladyinthesky.blogspot.com/2006/10/nekkid-blogging.html
    “More than you ever wanted to know” indeed.
    But thanks for directing me toward Erin, her blog is amazing!

  7. kate r says:

    I did mine about books, but not my books, not even one.

  8. Amelia Elias says:

    My Thursday Thirteen is basically a rant about the third X-Men movie. No, I have no life. I thought about being interesting, witty, and topical, but then I thought… Hugh Jackman…

  9. Dean says:

    Doug, it’s not Hugh Jackman (or not exclusively Hugh Jackman), it’s the Wolverine character.

  10. sxKitten says:

    Wolverine …. mmmmmmm …. sensitive, indestructible badboy with wicked sideburns and killer claws. What’s not to love?

    Hugh’s pretty easy on the eyes on his own, too, and he’s got that Aussie thing going for him.