The best part of being a writer is that you get to make stuff up. No, really. That’s the best part. When I’m going around doing stuff—driving to work, doing groceries, getting overpriced coffee at Starbucks—I pay attention and make up captions for the world that don’t fit. Like, let’s say there’s a guy at Starbucks hunched intently over a laptop, and there’s a big huge coffee with whipped cream on top. I try out things like “Sugar addict on early release” or “Space alien without a ride”, ‘cause with all that sugar, the guy’s gonna be up all night.
Here on my blog, I thought I’d try the same thing. Today, I’ve taken pictures from Facebook and matched them (sometimes mismatched them) with books lying around my apartment. Here goes…
The late bus dropped Jared Grace at the bottom of his street. From there it was an uphill climb to the dilapidated old house where his family was staying until his mother found something better or his crazy old aunt wanted it back. The Spiderwick Chronicles, Book 2: Seeing the Stone by Holly Black
I took a look at this one, and I asked myself…hmmm…he’s just about to say something, but what? Then I got it! Advice for a friend…“No, for some sins, no excuses will do and penance is required. I’d suggest you demand it be done in the bedchamber…” Time and Chance by Sharon Kay Penman
Someone’s night is about to get very, very interesting . . . We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the Night of Nights. Peter Pan by James M. Barrie
This just seemed right . . .
The coronation went off with no trouble or complications at all. The Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King
Things aren’t always what they seem…
“Yes, of course.” Very unwillingly the doctor unlocked a door at the back of the office and they filed into a cramped room that—among other things—functioned as the ship’s morgue. The Wheel of Darkness by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
And…for my friend Em Woods…
And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change: not a knocker, but Marley’s face. A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.
Go ahead . . . imagine the world