RETURN OF MINI-NOVEL
Wednesday, Feb. 11, 2015 - 22:18

In my confessional yesterday I neglected to mention that I have begun listening to the Sleep With Me podcast. I feel this is important to tell you about for some reason. And while it is true that I've never made it to the end of one of the podcasts, it's also true that I think the mere fact that I'm listening to a podcast in order to go to sleep makes me stay awake longer than I normally would. I'm in a weird sleep phase right now anyway, I think, because I am substance-free after taking nighttime cold medicine for a few weeks and also my freaking stomping downstairs neighbor has been home for a week a-stompin' and a-thumpin', etc. etc., but I think the podcast is yet another symptom rather than a cure.

Okay whatever. In an effort to come up with some kind of material that I can use to submit to two writing contests by March 15, I have decided to start writing mini-novels again. Let us remind ourselves of what a mini-novel is supposed to be, because some of us seem to have forgotten. A mini-novel is a perfectly structured novel, except that it's very short, because no one has the time or energy or attention span to write or read a giant novel, but everyone wants to write and read something super interesting and profound. A mini-novel is interesting, profound, and very short. Unfortunately, some of us have been writing mini-novels that are merely starts of stories about cats or dogs or paper fairies with abrupt and nonsensical endings without any profundity whatsoever. Okay? Okay.

February Mini-Novel #1
The Fairweather Friendships of Myrtle B. Jones, season 11 episode 1

Myrtle was in a rage from the moment she woke up. She flung off her covers, stomped to the bathroom, peed as hard as she could, and slammed down the toilet seat. She stormed to the kitchen and began looting through her pantry shelves.

"Motherflipper!" she hissed. "I hate motherflipping yogurt enough as it is and now I don't have any granola to eat with it. What happened to all my dang granola?"

She knew the answer, though.

Taffy Black.

Taffy, her best friend, a liar and addict, a stealer of boyfriends and patents and, now, granola.

Myrtle let out a wail of desperation. She had been placed on a yogurt-centric diet by her spiritual advisor two weeks earlier. It had gone well at first, but as the days progressed, Myrtle's appetite for yogurt plummeted along with her mood. She was having a terrible day when Taffy had knocked at the door a week into the yogurt.

"Well," Myrtle said, after a few seconds. "Taffy Black. I haven't heard from you in a few years."

"I know!" Taffy gushed, laughing. "And here we are! Can you believe it?"

Myrtle could not. This was eerily reminiscent of the time Taffy had showed up unexpectedly when Myrtle had lived as a dairy maid in Florida. That visit had been disastrous, and Myrtle was not willing to experience that again.

On the evening of the day of Taffy's arrival, Myrtle returned from the grocery store to find a cocktail party in full swing, dozens of drunk strangers in every corner of her apartment. She kicked everyone out. Taffy was tipsy and charming and said she didn't know how the party had started or how all those people had found the place. She assumed they'd been Myrtle's friends, so she let them in, and the next thing she knew, 20 or 30 people were drinking and smoking and dancing.

Taffy explained all this while Myrtle put the groceries away silently. When she put a second box of granola in the pantry, Taffy's eyes lit up.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's for my yogurt," Myrtle said, wary of Taffy's interest.

"You eat yogurt?" Taffy asked with a laugh.

"Yes, I do," Myrtle said. She knew what Taffy thought of cultured food but was unwilling to be cowed by her any longer. "It's for my health. My spiritual advisor wants me to be eating mainly yogurt. I put some granola in the yogurt and I like it very much."

Taffy snorted. "You have a spiritual advisor? What's his name?"

"His name," Myrtle said with as much dignity as she could feign, "is Meiji."

Taffy fell to the ground laughing. Myrtle went to bed. That night she had a terrible dream about Taffy Black kicking puppies and then throwing them off of cliffs into the sea.

The next morning, Taffy sat at the table eating granola.

"Don't you dare eat my granola!" Myrtle shouted, grabbing the box to return to the pantry. "How is this box mostly empty? I just bought this last night."

"Granola is delicious!" Taffy said with a smile. "I love it! Let's go do something, old chum. Let's go explore this city."

Taffy dragged Myrtle to the art museum and an expensive furniture store. They returned to Myrtle's apartment with a new ottoman with a hidden compartment.

"It'll be perfect," Taffy told Myrtle.

Taffy left five days later without a word, taking all the granola with her.

Next time, on The Fairweather Friendships of Myrtle B. Jones: Myrtle makes an unexpected discovery one day while dusting!