Day 11 of 30 days of Fiction: “11) Prompt: a dragon and a princess.” Dragons Next Door, and fun.

Juniper and Baby Smith were playing Princess and Dragon. To be fair, because Baby Smith was still very young and not quite up on playing yet, Juniper was playing Princess and Dragon with Baby, but Baby seemed to be having fun and, most importantly, had stopped leaking acidy unpleasantness from both ends.

Her friends at school, even Noni the pixie, had gotten bored with make-believe a couple years ago. All the girls were interested in was make-up and dresses and telling each other’s fortunes and, much to her annoyance, boys. Suddenly every word Juniper said about or to or near her guy friends was subject to scrutiny, numerology, criticism, and questioning. It was obnoxious.

The guys weren’t a lot better; on the playground, they treated Juniper like she was a scout for an invading army. Considering the way the girls were acting, she couldn’t really blame them, but you couldn’t say something like I’m not a girl, I’m just Junie without getting them going with a whole different set of teasing. Mostly, these days, she played with Gortan, whose people didn’t have gender, and Andy and Sera, who were just as confused by the whole thing as she was.

But they didn’t like make-believe either, which left her playing with Baby Smith or her kid brother. Baby Smith was better, and the fact that it was a real dragon just made thing that much cooler. And if she had to change the words that were in the story books a little bit, well, mom said that was okay, too. Stories lived to change.

“Avaunt! Come, friend, where should we adventure today?”

Baby babbled back at her, smiling with many tiny teeth showing.

“To the east, you say? I hear there are…” The book said ogres, but Juniper kind of like the ogres she knew, “auditors there! Away we go!” She made flying noises, vwoosh, vwoosh, and the fair princess warrior and her dragon friend flew off to battle foul beasts.

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Day 6 of 30 days of Fiction: “6) Write a scene with people talking, but without any actual dialog”

This is the direct sequel to Visiting the Neighbors.

My middle child was very persuasive.

I shouldn’t be surprised; she’s her father’s daughter as much as she’s mine. But she, the best and worst of both of us, was leaning every single bit of her not-inconsiderable inherited charm on me. Wheedling. Arguing. Bargaining.

My darling husband, who might have stood a chance, had ceded the field to me, claiming that this counted, in division of labor, as a “mom argument.” Bless him. And I, who was never the charmer they were, was stuck using cold hard logic against all the convincing powers a ten-year-old could put forth.

She wanted to babysit the neighbor’s newly-hatched baby. Not the Halflings down the road, or even the harpy-people, no, my baby girl wanted to babysit a baby dragon. And she was pouring on the pleases and promises and coaxing and sulking.

I’d been married to her father for twenty-five years. I stood there, the immovable object, telling her no. No. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t even feasible. How could she change a diaper she couldn’t touch? How would she deal with acid spit-up? The thing had a siren cry that made those harpies sound quiet. And her schoolwork was just getting really intense. She was going to need good grades now to get into a good academy.

Still she pled. She’d be good. She’d do the dishes. She’d give half her earnings to charity. It would be good for her applications, inter-species work. After-school job. Responsibility and civic duty. The baby was so cute.

Still I balked. It wasn’t safe, it wasn’t healthy, and she wasn’t equipped to handle the needs of a dragon infant. She might hurt the baby. She might get hurt. I might have a heart attack. She could start this Friday.

I mentioned she was very persuasive, right?

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Day 5 of 30 days of Fiction: “5) Write a scene entirely in dialog.”

This is the direct sequel to Hatching, and references “Damn dragons, get off my lawn!”

“I hope the noise isn’t bothering you.”

“Not at all. We were just curious; we’ve never seen a baby dragon before.”

“Oh! Well, come on in, the hatching is nearly over. Mind your step, little Cthannie is teething. Right through here…”

“You’ve done wonders with the place.”

“Oh, well, it had good bones. The ogres didn’t leave much but bones. But it had good bones. And here’s our little darling. Don’t worry, the asbestos diaper will protect you.”

“Oh, eee, adorable! Such tiny little claws and teeth! And those ears!”

“They grow into the ears.”

“And the scales? You two are both such warm, fiery colors, and your baby is blue? I’ve never seen a blue dragon.”

“Darling, you’re being rude.”

“No, not at all. The blue fades after a few months into purple, and shifts to red when they’re nearly grown-up. The middle stage can be a little awkward, though.”

“Oh, you mean like Jimmy? Oh, my, I’m sorry, that was horribly rude.”

“Like Jimmy, yes. Scales peeling, shifting colors in spots. He’s nearly done with the awkward stage now.”

“…”

“…”

“Burrrrrrrraaaap!”

“…”

“…”

“Your baby really is lovely. Do the acid belches last for long?

“Oh, hardly any time at all. Here, let me get that for you. Sorry to be so familiar, but dragon spittle has an acid neutralizer.”

“Somehow, I am not surprised. Congratulations on the newest addition to the Smith family; I think perhaps we should be heading home.”

“Thank you, thank you, and do come over any time.”

“Mommy! Mommy, oooh, ooh, so adorable can I hold it can I please?”

“Ah. Hem. This is our daughter, Juniper. Terribly sorry about that.”

“No problem at all. They seem to be getting along quite well, don’t they?”

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Day 3 of 30 days of Fiction: “3) Write a query letter for a fantasy (any kind) novel” (one day late)

Dear Prospective Agent,

The ogres next door have moved out, but the new neighbors have a joyriding teen and a new infant whose cries can wake up the neighborhood. Sure, the wee little thing is adorable, but he belches fire when he’s colicky and needs asbestos diapers.

Audrey and her husband try to be neighborly, but what can they do when their ten-year-old daughter agrees to take on the task of babysitting the Smith’s difficult new baby? Diapering Dragons and Burping Banshees is a cheerful exploration of a strange suburban neighborhood, where you never know if the folks next door are going to turn out to be monsters, or just four-legged people with scales.

At 50,000 words, Diapering Dragons takes on the issues and problems of being a tween through the kaleidoscope lens of a fantasy world, lending perspective and the distance of allegory to issue like peer acceptance and untrustworthy adults.

Thank you for your consideration,

Aldersprig

The List

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