There are days when real grammar just don’t cut it. You have to get out the really funky-junk grammar and make some attempt at getting away with mayhem (which is next in line to bad grammar in literary law). While chattering on a writer forum this morning, our fearless leader threatened to call out the grammar police, and I know she called the punctuation deputies on us. (She’s a real fanatic for grammar justice – or poetic justice. Hmmm)
The point of view we happened to be plagerizing hinted at refutable injustice, but all things considered, we believed we were on safe ground. Bill Engvall would most certainly have handed someone ‘their sign’ had he been in the audience, but… we were all writers testing the water for a new genre of writing.
We think it sunk.
When writers get together and worry over the basic fundamentals of writing, they generally come up with a wide variety of laws and reasons why specific words must be used in specific instances. Then add in a paralegal or two, and grammar takes on new meaning. There’s nothing like a paralegal adding in dysfunctional legalese to confuse the issue. But, it works!
We all sit around a table – or in the case of the forum – various keyboards around the country chucking in our opinion, only to find out that the new genre we’re discussing is something of a radical change from mayhem mystery, focused on sci-fi, with a twist of adventurous fantasy (and a little flair of romance). IF you can wrap your mind around that thought, try this character…
A hairy rendition of the fire breathing monster with a tail that stops hurricanes, this creature arrived on the coolest planet this side of the sun just in time to rescue the fair maiden who is (of course) a traditional damsel in distress from her attorney, the great, the ever-marvelous generic version of our very own hometown entity – Pete the Attorney. While he stands before the judge with our notorious little damsel seated on his left side, Pete the Attorney pleads unsuccessfully for the judge (yes he’s honorable) to save her from the devastation of life in the piddly little row-town community where “shore as he’s shootin’, her dysfunctional maveric isn’t really missing, but rather just takin’ up space in town. Er… at least, close by”.
The dragon, hairy gent that he is, has promised to rescue the damsel in distress if it’s the last thing he does on the coolest planet this side of the sun, and proceeds to carry out his promise.
The damsel, poised for a legal battle and ready for judicious use of her legal skills, has settled comfortably into her chair awaiting her lawyer’s argument. When, by the power vested in him by the coolest planet this side of the son, the dragon, hairy gent that he is, flew unceremoniously through the window on the third floor of the local court house, and dumped the mavrick still flailing about in misplaced anger on the judicial bench before the judge.
The judge, embarrassed by the failure of his detective staff to properly perform the investigation, rapidly announces, “For lack of a missing person… er maverick, I pronounce this case dismissed.”
Laughter rips through the court room, balanced only by the unchivalrous attempt of Pete the attorney to reclaim the moment, while the damsel in distress slips one leg over the dragon’s neck and sits high in his regal purple saddle, to ride off into the sunset with her fair prince – the Dragon. (Who, on second glance, is really Prince Charming in disguise.)
Writing for profit sometimes means taking a chance with words and using non-sensical renditions of the usual grammar rules, broken by the intensity of the story. Dysfunctional grammar may not work in the court room for a lawyer whose bell has tolled, but at the risk of losing his disguise, the literary license of misused grammar entertains those who read the story of a Charming Prince and his Damsel in Distress.
I must say, the character has redemptive qualities!
And grammar law dysfunction shall ever be saved from the ire of a mayhem mystery, focused on sci-fi, with a twist of adventurous fantasy (and a little flair of romance) writer, who begged me not to disclose his name on World Wide Web interface. Chicken!