When Fictional Characters Come to Life

Bonnie Daly, author of the hot new YA fiction/children’s book, Surviving Gretchen, Book One of The Storms of Friendship, talks about how her fictional characters defiantly formed their own Facebook page. Has she gone insane, or have her characters actually come to life?

https://www.facebook.com/morethanjustheauthorsimagination/

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/

http://survivinggretchen.com/

 

 

 

 

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Maybe The Characters Can Survive Gretchen But Will The Author?

When the antagonist from your book takes on a life of her own and not only starts posting nasty rants on your fb page because she didn’t like the way you portrayed her, but also has the gall to use #notmyauthor in her stupid little spiel.

This is war. 

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/

http://survivinggretchen.com/

 

The Impending Doom of Bathing Suit Season

 

Time to put down that cinnamon roll, get off the couch, and take action!

suit

Nothing brings fear into the hearts of women—especially women who ate their way through the holidays—than the knowledge that in a few short months they’ll once again be faced with trying to cram themselves into the worst reality check device in history: The Bathing Suit.

If you’re one of these women, you know it’s all fun and games—and food—during the winter months, where you and your extra pounds can go incognito under oversized sweaters and bulky coats. But when that abundant consumption of muffins leaves you with a muffin top, it’s time to do something about it before the top button of your jeans shoots off like a rocket into galaxies unknown.

Of course, you have the greatest intentions. In fact, you have big plans to start your new diet and exercise regime next week, right after that big dinner party which is certain to soar you into a dress so large it could double as a parachute.

So fast forward to June, and you’re fatter than you were in February. All of those good intentions got washed down the drain along with the soda, cheese cake, and hollandaise sauce you clandestinely consumed. And now you’re left with the raw truth that can’t be avoided–or  covered up with a Big Shirt—you’ve packed on pounds as if you’re storing up for Armageddon.

You’ve resigned yourself to the fact you have no hope of stuffing yourself into that adorable little two-piece number you bought back in in early January, to inspire you to get in shape. With that in mind, you head out into the cold, cruel world of bathing suit shopping.

You enter the store and wince, quickly walking past string bikinis even too tiny for a mouse to wear with any decency. Then you head straight to the section where the one-piece skirted suits, with patented turbo tummy tightening, hang out.

After picking out a suit your great-grandmother would wear, you head into the chamber of horrors—otherwise known as the dressing room. You convince yourself all you’re going to do is see if you can fit into the insipid suit, without even so much as glancing in the mirror, then get the heck out. But unfortunately you develop some sick unreasonable need to sneak a peek at your reflection, because who knows—maybe the suit will make you look thinner…

Well, that was a mistake now wasn’t it. The suit most certainly did not make you appear svelte, as the tag trumpeting the power of the turbo tummy tightening design promised, but made you look like a sausage ready to burst. Add to that the infamous dressing room lighting—lighting so bad that it would make a  supermodel never want to appear in public again, and the three-way funhouse mirrors the store so nicely provided . If they want to sell clothes, especially bathing suits, they need to install extraordinarily dim lighting and  instant airbrush mirrors (imagine the fortune to be made with that invention).

Irritated beyond all reason, you hastily change out of the suit, charge out of the store, and go home to sulk over a plate of sugar cookies.

Like Ebenezer Scrooge, you’ve just been visited by a ghost—the Ghost of Christmas Pounds—to give you a glimpse into your future if you don’t change your calorie consuming course now.

Just some fat-free food for thought, for the upcoming month of February.

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/

50% OFF STOREWIDE!!! HURRY IN AND SAVE!!!!

store

In the all the glitz, glamor, and glitter of after Christmas sales, we’re bombarded with announcements of massive storewide sales, designed to lure us back into stores so we can continue to shop until we drop–as if we hadn’t had enough of that already. And just in case you happen to be completely in the dark about the true meaning of what a “STOREWIDE” sale is, allow me to explain:

A “STOREWIDE” sale excludes anything that is already on sale, anything that’s discounted, miscounted, or near the front of the store. Anything near the back of the store isn’t included either; including—but not limited to—anything between the front and the back of the store.

Any item that any of that store’s competitors sell for a higher—or lower price—is excluded. Stuff that you absolutely had your heart set on getting, specifically with that incredible storewide sale, is most certainly not included either.

Stuff you didn’t know you needed but decided you did once you saw it in the store – also excluded.

Valid only in the state of shopping confusion.  All taxes, mysteriously added higher prices, and standing in long lines to find all this out apply. See store managers for additional frustration.

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/

The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year

wrapped-christmas-present

 

It’s become a standard yuletide tradition: every year without fail, there’s one particular toy on practically every child’s Christmas wish list. It’s also a toy that starts out at one price, but once retailers figure out how priceless that toy is to your child, they shamelessly increase it as high as they can and beyond. Not only that, but the toy becomes about as hard to find as five minutes of peace during the holidays.

It all starts off innocently enough; your child tells you at least a month in advance exactly what he wants for Christmas. It’s all he ever talks about and it’s all you hear about. You even contemplate buying the darned thing and giving it to him early just to shut him up, but you don’t. However, by the time you finally do start shopping for “The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year,” you can’t find it anywhere.

Little did you know, other kid in the universe also wants that toy for Christmas. So now you—and eight million other crazed, harassed parents who started shopping too late—are in an extremely non-festive frenzy to find this elusive item that’s seemingly no longer available anywhere. Then when and if that ridiculous piece of crap does become available someplace, you’ll have to beat each and every one of those other parents to it; kicking, clawing, and fighting, all the way. Ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas.

After spending every waking moment in pursuit of this thing, you miraculously find it online. You literally jump for joy, spilling your coffee all over the Christmas cards you finally got around to making out. But that’s okay because you’ve found The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year. It’s five times the original price but hey, they’ve guaranteed you it’ll be there before Christmas. You’re finally set; the maddening quest is over. Let peace and joy reign throughout the rest of the season.

Two days later in a store, you actually lay eyes on The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year—several of them in fact—for the incredible deal of only twice the original price. But no, you’ve already bought one and it’s on its way to your house. Life is good.

Later that day and receive an email from the company which sold you the toy. They regretfully—but cheerfully—inform you that The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year is currently on backorder, and won’t be shipped out till mid-January. They conclude their correspondence by wishing you and yours the absolute merriest of Christmases. How nice—and so much for their guarantee.

Frantically, you rush back to that store you saw The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year in, grateful you stumbled across it there as you can’t even begin to imagine the nightmare you’d have to go through otherwise. At lightning speed, you stampede back to that part of the store where you saw the toy, only now it’s nowhere to be seen. You sprint to the customer service desk where an employee informs you that just this very moment they sold the last one, as they point behind you to some lady exiting the building. You look over your shoulder to see a smugly satisfied, evil witch making her way out of the store with The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year.

You briefly consider barging after her, grabbing it from her grubby little mitts and making off with it—contemplating that if the judge was also a parent she might very well let you off on a temporary insanity plea. Yet you just stand there stewing over the fact that if you’d only been there five minutes earlier you could’ve been that smugly satisfied, evil witch walking out with The Most Wonderful Toy of the Year.

Later, you spend the entire night scouring the internet, hoping beyond all hope to find another one of these stupid toys somewhere else. Then, you see it! There it is! For the downright bargain price of only seven times what it was originally selling for. Yet you’re more than happy to pay it, as by this point you’d sell your own grandmother to a mad scientist to get that toy. So you pay the unearthly price, breathe a huge, satisfied sigh of relief, put your feet up, and watch the sunrise.

Full of Christmas cheer—even though you got no sleep whatsoever—you greet your child warmly when he comes down to breakfast that morning. You ask if he’s excited that Christmas is only a few days away, to which he says he is, but also divulges to you that he’s changed his mind entirely about what he wants for Christmas.

Taken from my book Christmas Madness, Mayhem, & Mall Santas: Humorous Insights into the Holiday Season.

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/

 

 

 

The Christmas Family Newsletter Brag Fest

 

Vector Illustrator, be able to scale to any size without loss resolution.

Most of us have received them and they usually come to us from families we hardly know, who live far, far away. People whom we haven’t seen since Nixon was President. Even so, every year we become privy to all the intimate details of what purportedly happened in their highly exciting, award winning lives since their last Christmas brag fest. Of course, not all of the Christmas family newsletters we’ve received over the years resemble what I’m about to describe. Yet there’s been enough of them to wrap Christmas presents with until the year 2023.

These delightful documents are filled to overflowing with details I’m certain the well-meaning writers never meant to exaggerate, manipulate, or dare I say, even fabricate. Yet somewhere along the way, the writer who slaved away writing, and rewriting, the history of their family’s lives over the past twelve months decided maybe a little—or perhaps even a lot—of poetic license was perfectly acceptable. Then once the newsletter evolved over several drafts, it went from being what really took place, to an all-out Festive Family Fake Fest.

I doubt they don’t ever mean for it to get quite so out of hand. However, realizing their musings might be mundane at best, they wrap it all up nicely with expensive foil paper and an exquisite bow. They never once consider we’re on to what’s really inside their pompous package of self-praise.

For all those unsuspecting people who’ve never received one before, I believe that just as the word FRAGILE is written on a parcel containing breakable stuff, so should the words BRAG ALERT be boldly stamped on the outside of the envelope of most Christmas family newsletters.

Reading through one of these newsletters—which goes on for several pages—you become aware that not even every recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize combined could possibly accomplish, in their collective lifetimes, what these amazing families have done in the past year alone. Major achievement awards, badges of honor, photographs with world leaders, and thousands of well-deserved trophies must certainly cover the walls and mantels of their humble abodes.

Unbeknownst to whoever wrote it, instead of evoking envy, awe, and admiration, they end up producing smirks, sneers, and sometimes sympathy. Sympathy for the poor writer who spent so long putting together this fourteen-page pat on the back, because you know everyone else who reads it is going to be laughing just as hard as you are. One day the writer may go back over what they sent out, and if they happen to be in a far less stuck up state of mind than when they wrote it, they will inevitably die of embarrassment.

One thing I do admire about them—which the authors of these audacious annual autobiographies never planned for—is their creative usage of the English language. For example: “Martin was given the unanimous approval senior management to take his entrepreneurial skills to a whole new level, based on his dedication to the company.” Translation? The lazy bum got fired. Or better yet, this: “Garrett continues to excel in all his favorite upper-level high school courses, and displays great leadership qualities in his extracurricular activities.” Which translates into: the only course Garrett’s passing this semester is the Basket Weaving class given in the attic of the school, and he’s also the kingpin of a local gang.

I’ve toyed with the idea of writing a Daly Family Christmas Newsletter, but my creative writing skills would pale in comparison to the great works of art we’ve received throughout the years. So I think I’ll just stick to scribbling Merry Christmas inside the cards I buy in boxed sets from my local mega-mart, and leave it at that.

Taken from my book Christmas Madness, Mayhem, & Mall Santas: Humorous Insights into the Holiday Season.

http://www.authorbonniedaly.com/