The Endless Search for an Ending and the Hopeless, Wandering Madness It Brought Forth
I wrote this when I had not yet written an ending. As of now the entire story is outlined all the way to the end, which is the farthest (furthest?) I've ever come on a story. I just have to actually write it all now. In the meantime you can read this randomness, which has no bearing on the rest of the story (and I hope it doesn't give away anything). Enjoy!
Keta, Silus, and Majiri sat around a table in the old Mos Edaan bar called Shlickitt's Pub. It was an especially dismal looking place that smelled not unlike a garbage dump. The bartender, a grizzled old human male, was cleaning the counter with an expressionless stare (although it didn't seem to Silus to do much of any good on the various colored stains there). The only other living thing in the room was an unconscious drunk lying face-down on a bench in the corner. Then again, Silus wasn't sure if the drunk even was alive.
Although he was a bit drowsy Silus was sitting up rather straight, avoiding any contact with the old, foul-smelling table. He watched the other two through heavy eyes. Majiri looked extremely bored and Keta was eyeing her and Silus suspiciously.
"Wait a minute," said Silus, "aren't you that Bloodtracker that tried to kill me just the other day?"
"Yes," said Keta with an unfriendly snarl, "and you're the pathetic palace guard that somehow got away from me."
"Hey, I take that as an insult," said Silus, his pride more than a little crushed by the remark. "And Majiri, what're you doing here?" Majiri shrugged and Keta looked at her for the first time.
"Do I know you?" Keta asked Majiri suspiciously.
"No, not yet," said Majiri, "that doesn't come along until I sneak into the palace."
"What?" Asked Silus. "What do you mean you're going to sneak into the palace?"
"Oh, of course," said Majiri with an understanding smile, "you guys haven't looked at the outline!" Keta growled a low, threatening growl.
"What?" Said Majiri.
"If you don't mind," said Keta, "I don't appreciate being called a 'guy'. I am female you know."
"Well sorry," said Majiri, adding under her breath, "somebody's a little pushy."
"I heard that," said Keta.
"Whoah, people," said Silus, "let's all just relax for a moment." The bartender was staring at them suspiciously, seemingly wondering whether or not he should get out his blaster rifle. The drunk in the corner moaned and rolled over, showing the faintest signs of life. "Now Majiri, you said something about an outline?"
"Yeah, in fact, the whole darn story's right here," she said, handing them two copies of a fairly thick packet of papers.
"Wow," said Silus as he flipped through the pages, "this is all about us! Everything that's happened, every detail's right in..." Suddenly he was interrupted as Keta burst out into a barking laugh and pointed to some lines the packet. When she'd finally stopped, she managed a few words.
"How sweet," she said, teeth gleaming, "there's a section written in here about you two."
"What?" Said Silus. Majiri blushed terribly and suggested they look at the outline.
"See," said Majiri as the others read through the outline, "that's what's going to happen."
"Oh, I get it," said Silus, "but wait a minute, where's the ending?"
Just then there was a small jingle as a stranger stepped into the pub. The grizzled old bartender raised an eyebrow as the small red-headed figure dressed in a strange shirt and overall ensemble walked in carrying no weapons except maybe the thick-soled shoes on her feet.
"Hello," she said cheerily, sitting down with the other three. "Ah, I see you've all met and read over the story."
"How do you know about that?" Asked Keta, obviously not appreciating this feeble creature's intrusion of her private business.
"I wrote it," said the redhead. The others gave her odd looks, except for Majiri who sat looking rather amused at their confusion.
"Really," said Silus, "then what happens after all this outlined stuff?"
"Yes," said Keta, "what happens next?"
"I was kind of wondering about that too," said Majiri. "Doesn't seem very complete."
"Well," said the author, "I'm working on it. I have the rough ending planned, but it's not perfectly mapped out, see? I gotta put it in an outline first, then I'll go back and write in the actual stuff. Just needs time."
"So what happens to us?" Said Keta.
"Good question," said the author, eyes narrowing at Keta, "These two get to live happily ever after and all, but you..."
"Spice mines of Kessel," coughed Majiri. "Oh, excuse me, I'm sensitive to the dust." Keta glared at her and then turned to look back at the author.
"No, I don't think so," said the author. "I'm considering Keta's fate: good or bad, or maybe a mixture of both."
"Good, or bad or maybe both?" Repeated Silus, his voice sarcastic. "That's a pretty general range, wouldn't you say?" Silus looked as if he was about to laugh and Keta felt much less nervous, even starting to laugh along with him.
"Great," said Majiri, making a helpless gesture "the author doesn't even know what's going to happen!" The supreme author of their fates was looking more pathetic by the minute.
"Well I have ideas!" The author nearly shouted, trying to get above their laughter. "Come on, give me a break!"
"Hey, I'm rootin' fer ya!" It was the drunk in the corner, suddenly brought to life by all the racket.
"Ben, Ben Kenobi?" asked the author. The drunk stood up and nodded, a little off balance and groggy but still clearly recognizable as the old Jedi master.
"Who's he?" Majiri asked. The author ignored her.
"But it's impossible!" Said the author in a hushed voice. "You're dead, and copyrighted! How could you be in one of my stories?"
"If Lando an Leia an everbody gets to be init, I figured I could too," he said, giving a wild-eyed smile that looked incredibly like that of a middle school band director whose namesake created Star Wars in the first place (sorry for the inside joke if you don't know who i'm mentioning). Just then Keta noticed that the bartender was missing.
"Where did that miserable scum sneak off too?" she wondered aloud as Silus assisted the author in helping Obi-wan over to the table.
"Right 'ere!" said the Jedi raising a trembling hand into the air as he collapsed onto their table, still obviously not sober.
"No," snarled Keta, "not you. The bartender…" A loud SLAM at the back door cut Keta off mid-sentence, and suddenly a swat team stormed into the room. Silus, Majiri, Keta and the author put their hands into the air and Mr. Kenobi sat snoring on the table peacefully. The room became extremely quiet, and the sound of footsteps (and Obi-Wan's faint snoring) filled their ears.
"Aha!" said the bartender, walking in through the back door, "caught you at last!"
"Who are you?" asked Silus.
"Officer Shlickitt," said the 'bartender' with a grimace, "and I've been trying to catch you for the longest time…"
"What do you mean?" Said Silus. "I only ditched the palace a few days ago, and hey, if Jabba wants the gem I was just about to..."
"No, not you," said Officer Shlickitt with a piercing gaze.
"Okay so I stole the gem," Majiri muttered, "if it matters this much to you..."
"No, not you either," said the officer again.
"I promise you I did nothing illegal," said Keta, "I was acting under the bounty hunter's code the whole…"
"I'm not here for you either," said the officer, "although you look rather suspicious." The officer then looked down at the table to see the unconscious figure of Obi-Wan.
"So you were looking for the drunk guy?" asked Majiri, obviously confused.
"Nope," said Officer Shlickitt, "her." And he pointed a dirty finger at, the author? "Arrest that author!"
"Wait a minute," said the redhead, struggling against the SWAT team, "what did I do?" The officer gave another nasty grimace.
"Oh," he said gleefully, "numerous major violations of the Laws of Writing. First of all you've got plenty of infractions with all your unfinished stories and now this." He paused for a moment to heighten the drama. "On top of your 6 unfinished stories and other random musings you've just added multiple uses of copyrighted characters and consorting with characters in a pointless sub-story! Yes, you're gonna get it this time missy!"
The other characters watched pitifully (except Obi-Wan of course) as the author struggled against the SWAT team. She seemed to be trying to shake them off so she could get at something in her pocket, but she was finally dragged outside so they couldn't see anymore. Officer Shlickitt turned back to look at them with yet another grimace.
"With an author like that, hmph, you all should be ashamed of yourselves."
"Well I'm not," said Majiri. They all looked at her.
"What?" Asked the others in the room.
"You all heard me. I said 'I'm not'. She may not be the best author but at least she's trying!"
"Yeah!" Said Silus. "And her ideas aren't half bad I'd say!" Keta nodded in agreement.
"Let's go," Keta said, pulling out her immense blast rifle, "we can take a SWAT team."
"That wont be necessary," said a voice in the doorway. Silus, Majiri, Keta, Officer Shlickitt, and even Obi-Wan looked up at the figure in the front door, silhouetted by a bright white light. It was the author!
"But, but how?" Asked the officer with a wrinkled frown.
"I'm off the hook," said the author, "thought I was going to rot in jail, but I finally found my poetic license." She held up a battered plastic card. Officer Shlickitt walked over and snatched it from her, looked it up and down and finally sighed.
"Yup," he said, "this is indeed a genuine poetic license. Well, I guess you are off the hook, this time." As he walked out the door with the remaining SWAT team members, the story gang let out a mighty 'huzzah' of joy. Even Obi-Wan joined in the happy cheer, and although he quickly lost his balance and fell over another table he got up and gave everyone a thumbs-up.
"Cliché!" He shouted, and there was much rejoicing.
I wrote this when I had not yet written an ending. As of now the entire story is outlined all the way to the end, which is the farthest (furthest?) I've ever come on a story. I just have to actually write it all now. In the meantime you can read this randomness, which has no bearing on the rest of the story (and I hope it doesn't give away anything). Enjoy!
Keta, Silus, and Majiri sat around a table in the old Mos Edaan bar called Shlickitt's Pub. It was an especially dismal looking place that smelled not unlike a garbage dump. The bartender, a grizzled old human male, was cleaning the counter with an expressionless stare (although it didn't seem to Silus to do much of any good on the various colored stains there). The only other living thing in the room was an unconscious drunk lying face-down on a bench in the corner. Then again, Silus wasn't sure if the drunk even was alive.
Although he was a bit drowsy Silus was sitting up rather straight, avoiding any contact with the old, foul-smelling table. He watched the other two through heavy eyes. Majiri looked extremely bored and Keta was eyeing her and Silus suspiciously.
"Wait a minute," said Silus, "aren't you that Bloodtracker that tried to kill me just the other day?"
"Yes," said Keta with an unfriendly snarl, "and you're the pathetic palace guard that somehow got away from me."
"Hey, I take that as an insult," said Silus, his pride more than a little crushed by the remark. "And Majiri, what're you doing here?" Majiri shrugged and Keta looked at her for the first time.
"Do I know you?" Keta asked Majiri suspiciously.
"No, not yet," said Majiri, "that doesn't come along until I sneak into the palace."
"What?" Asked Silus. "What do you mean you're going to sneak into the palace?"
"Oh, of course," said Majiri with an understanding smile, "you guys haven't looked at the outline!" Keta growled a low, threatening growl.
"What?" Said Majiri.
"If you don't mind," said Keta, "I don't appreciate being called a 'guy'. I am female you know."
"Well sorry," said Majiri, adding under her breath, "somebody's a little pushy."
"I heard that," said Keta.
"Whoah, people," said Silus, "let's all just relax for a moment." The bartender was staring at them suspiciously, seemingly wondering whether or not he should get out his blaster rifle. The drunk in the corner moaned and rolled over, showing the faintest signs of life. "Now Majiri, you said something about an outline?"
"Yeah, in fact, the whole darn story's right here," she said, handing them two copies of a fairly thick packet of papers.
"Wow," said Silus as he flipped through the pages, "this is all about us! Everything that's happened, every detail's right in..." Suddenly he was interrupted as Keta burst out into a barking laugh and pointed to some lines the packet. When she'd finally stopped, she managed a few words.
"How sweet," she said, teeth gleaming, "there's a section written in here about you two."
"What?" Said Silus. Majiri blushed terribly and suggested they look at the outline.
"See," said Majiri as the others read through the outline, "that's what's going to happen."
"Oh, I get it," said Silus, "but wait a minute, where's the ending?"
Just then there was a small jingle as a stranger stepped into the pub. The grizzled old bartender raised an eyebrow as the small red-headed figure dressed in a strange shirt and overall ensemble walked in carrying no weapons except maybe the thick-soled shoes on her feet.
"Hello," she said cheerily, sitting down with the other three. "Ah, I see you've all met and read over the story."
"How do you know about that?" Asked Keta, obviously not appreciating this feeble creature's intrusion of her private business.
"I wrote it," said the redhead. The others gave her odd looks, except for Majiri who sat looking rather amused at their confusion.
"Really," said Silus, "then what happens after all this outlined stuff?"
"Yes," said Keta, "what happens next?"
"I was kind of wondering about that too," said Majiri. "Doesn't seem very complete."
"Well," said the author, "I'm working on it. I have the rough ending planned, but it's not perfectly mapped out, see? I gotta put it in an outline first, then I'll go back and write in the actual stuff. Just needs time."
"So what happens to us?" Said Keta.
"Good question," said the author, eyes narrowing at Keta, "These two get to live happily ever after and all, but you..."
"Spice mines of Kessel," coughed Majiri. "Oh, excuse me, I'm sensitive to the dust." Keta glared at her and then turned to look back at the author.
"No, I don't think so," said the author. "I'm considering Keta's fate: good or bad, or maybe a mixture of both."
"Good, or bad or maybe both?" Repeated Silus, his voice sarcastic. "That's a pretty general range, wouldn't you say?" Silus looked as if he was about to laugh and Keta felt much less nervous, even starting to laugh along with him.
"Great," said Majiri, making a helpless gesture "the author doesn't even know what's going to happen!" The supreme author of their fates was looking more pathetic by the minute.
"Well I have ideas!" The author nearly shouted, trying to get above their laughter. "Come on, give me a break!"
"Hey, I'm rootin' fer ya!" It was the drunk in the corner, suddenly brought to life by all the racket.
"Ben, Ben Kenobi?" asked the author. The drunk stood up and nodded, a little off balance and groggy but still clearly recognizable as the old Jedi master.
"Who's he?" Majiri asked. The author ignored her.
"But it's impossible!" Said the author in a hushed voice. "You're dead, and copyrighted! How could you be in one of my stories?"
"If Lando an Leia an everbody gets to be init, I figured I could too," he said, giving a wild-eyed smile that looked incredibly like that of a middle school band director whose namesake created Star Wars in the first place (sorry for the inside joke if you don't know who i'm mentioning). Just then Keta noticed that the bartender was missing.
"Where did that miserable scum sneak off too?" she wondered aloud as Silus assisted the author in helping Obi-wan over to the table.
"Right 'ere!" said the Jedi raising a trembling hand into the air as he collapsed onto their table, still obviously not sober.
"No," snarled Keta, "not you. The bartender…" A loud SLAM at the back door cut Keta off mid-sentence, and suddenly a swat team stormed into the room. Silus, Majiri, Keta and the author put their hands into the air and Mr. Kenobi sat snoring on the table peacefully. The room became extremely quiet, and the sound of footsteps (and Obi-Wan's faint snoring) filled their ears.
"Aha!" said the bartender, walking in through the back door, "caught you at last!"
"Who are you?" asked Silus.
"Officer Shlickitt," said the 'bartender' with a grimace, "and I've been trying to catch you for the longest time…"
"What do you mean?" Said Silus. "I only ditched the palace a few days ago, and hey, if Jabba wants the gem I was just about to..."
"No, not you," said Officer Shlickitt with a piercing gaze.
"Okay so I stole the gem," Majiri muttered, "if it matters this much to you..."
"No, not you either," said the officer again.
"I promise you I did nothing illegal," said Keta, "I was acting under the bounty hunter's code the whole…"
"I'm not here for you either," said the officer, "although you look rather suspicious." The officer then looked down at the table to see the unconscious figure of Obi-Wan.
"So you were looking for the drunk guy?" asked Majiri, obviously confused.
"Nope," said Officer Shlickitt, "her." And he pointed a dirty finger at, the author? "Arrest that author!"
"Wait a minute," said the redhead, struggling against the SWAT team, "what did I do?" The officer gave another nasty grimace.
"Oh," he said gleefully, "numerous major violations of the Laws of Writing. First of all you've got plenty of infractions with all your unfinished stories and now this." He paused for a moment to heighten the drama. "On top of your 6 unfinished stories and other random musings you've just added multiple uses of copyrighted characters and consorting with characters in a pointless sub-story! Yes, you're gonna get it this time missy!"
The other characters watched pitifully (except Obi-Wan of course) as the author struggled against the SWAT team. She seemed to be trying to shake them off so she could get at something in her pocket, but she was finally dragged outside so they couldn't see anymore. Officer Shlickitt turned back to look at them with yet another grimace.
"With an author like that, hmph, you all should be ashamed of yourselves."
"Well I'm not," said Majiri. They all looked at her.
"What?" Asked the others in the room.
"You all heard me. I said 'I'm not'. She may not be the best author but at least she's trying!"
"Yeah!" Said Silus. "And her ideas aren't half bad I'd say!" Keta nodded in agreement.
"Let's go," Keta said, pulling out her immense blast rifle, "we can take a SWAT team."
"That wont be necessary," said a voice in the doorway. Silus, Majiri, Keta, Officer Shlickitt, and even Obi-Wan looked up at the figure in the front door, silhouetted by a bright white light. It was the author!
"But, but how?" Asked the officer with a wrinkled frown.
"I'm off the hook," said the author, "thought I was going to rot in jail, but I finally found my poetic license." She held up a battered plastic card. Officer Shlickitt walked over and snatched it from her, looked it up and down and finally sighed.
"Yup," he said, "this is indeed a genuine poetic license. Well, I guess you are off the hook, this time." As he walked out the door with the remaining SWAT team members, the story gang let out a mighty 'huzzah' of joy. Even Obi-Wan joined in the happy cheer, and although he quickly lost his balance and fell over another table he got up and gave everyone a thumbs-up.
"Cliché!" He shouted, and there was much rejoicing.