Anyone remember House of Cards? Not the
recent story by MetroRhodes . I'm talking about the
multi-authored story from a few years back . Basically... I came up with the set-up for a fic. Wrote Part One, but didn't know what to do with things from there. So I threw it open to boards. It's a style I think I'm going to call a "flying robin." Like a round robin, only the authorship can go in any direction instead of around in a circle.
Here's how it works. I post Part One. Whoever wants to take a crack at Part Two posts in the
comments thread to stake the claim. (If you claim a part and then something comes up or whatever and you can't do it, make a new post in the same thread to bring it back up and un-claim the part.) When you're ready, post your part. Then whoever wants to can post in the FDK thread to claim the next part. And so on until the story comes to an end. A new author can jump in at any time. A previous author can come back to write as many parts as he or she wants (as long as other people get a chance to play).
The fun of it (IMHO, anyway) is building the story together, having no idea where it's going to go next. Anything could happen. Anyone could take it in a new direction.
So, for your entertainment, here's a new one.
Title (which is, of course, a take-off on
a recent movie ) is the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment. (It's hard, not knowing what the story will end up being about...) Suggestions for a new one are welcome.
Diary Of A Mad White ManLois Lane sighed with relief as she tossed aside the last remnants of her costume. Tomorrow, she'd put it on one last time. Being there when Henderson and his boys made the bust would be worth it. She'd write up the last of the story. And then she'd burn those constricting wrappings. Or maybe bronze them. A trophy of the bust. A testament to what she'd do for a story. Insurance that they would never ever be worn again.
But that was tomorrow. For tonight, she could just leave them in the pile in the corner of her bedroom, where they wouldn't taint her other clothes with their presence.
Wrapped in a soft, comfortable, and loose-fitting bathrobe, she turned her attention to the book. It was an old, worn leatherbound volume. She'd spotted it underneath a seat in one of the chop shop's stolen cars. She'd taken the risk of grabbing it and hiding it away, figuring it was probably valuable to someone. A stolen car could be replaced. An old book like this one might well be one of a kind.
She opened it and glanced over a few pages. As she'd suspected, it was a diary. She glanced at the date on the first entry. 1866. No doubt this was a family heirloom. The owner would be very relieved to have it back, if only she could find him. She looked at the inside covers, flipped around a bit. Not surpisingly, there was indication of the current owner's identity. Well, she could always mention it in the paper.
She went back to the first entry and started reading.
"Dear Diary... Or, I should say, Dear Person Who Is Reading My Diary,
My name is Tempus. I am a time traveler..."
Lois put the book down. Time travel? What was this? She flipped forward, skimming over a few entries. There was a history of major events in the world from 1866 on. The writer was prone to sarcasm, but it seemed fairly accurate. She flipped further ahead. The history continued well into the future.
Was this some work of science fiction? The book looked authentic, but could it have been somehow artificially aged? If so, it was an interesting idea, but couldn't the writer have come up with a better name for the main character? A time traveler named Tempus? How lazy could you be?
And... what was this about a superhero? A man who could fly and perform all sorts of superhuman feats? Well, maybe it wasn't any more far-fetched than time travel. But... he was named "Superman"? A man with super powers, and he's named Superman. What was with this author and names? It was a good thing there wasn't a character who ran a coffee shop; the name "Mr. Coffee" was already taken.
She flipped back a little to see if there was an entry close to the present. She was startled to find one with tomorrow's date. What was even more startling was that it was about her!
"It was on this day that Lois Lane would meet her destiny. She had just finished a story about a car theft ring. Fortunately for her, the theives seem to have known a lot more about cars than human anatomy. Wearing scruffy clothes and a pasted-on beard, Lois had fooled the entire gang into believing that she was a boy. Say what you want about Lois, even I have to admit the woman had a figure. How the entire group could mistake a set of gams like that for..."
Lois threw the book down. Who had written this?? Was it some kind sick joke? Did she have a stalker? Was the car theft bust in jeopardy? No, she was probably safe on that last count. The diary talked about the bust as if it had already been accomplished. But...
She shook her head. Too many questions, not enough information. She picked up the book, skimmed past the rest of the comments about her body and the theives' failure to notice it, and started reading again.
"But the car theives weren't the only ones who were incredibly unobservant. Maybe it was somethng about the people of the time. Lois herself, widely regarded as one of the most brilliant investigators of the era, had an even more galactically stupid lapse. That same day, Lois would meet Clark Kent. Soon, she would start working with him on a daily basis (no pun intended, of course). He would become her friend, her partner, and more.
"And it wouldn't be long before she came face-to-face with Superman, the hero she had unwittingly helped to create. She would see him, she would worship him. She would be rescued by him again and again. (She had a real "damsel in distress" thing going. It's a wonder she survived long enough to meet him. So many close calls. Like that time in the Congo. Must remember to look into that one of these days...)
"Well, dear reader, here's the kicker. Imagine Lois working with Clark Kent day in and day out. Drooling and obsessing over her knight in shining spandex, Superman. Watching, again and again, as one disappeared and the other turned up mere moments later. And still it would take her two years to see past a phony pair of glasses and a change of clothing, to finally recognize that the two men were one and the same. I mean... DUH!"
Lois slammed the cover shut. She didn't know who had written this or why, but it was making her furious. Verbally ogling her, then insulting her intelligence? And coming up with these rediculous fantasies! A flying alien in spandex? Herself duped for two full years by a pair of glasses? Time travel was bad enough, but this? The owner of the book was darned lucky that she had yet to find any clues to his identity. But that wouldn't stop her. Whoever was making this stuff up, she was going to track him down and...
Despite her fury, she found herself stifling a yawn. It had been a long day, and she needed to be up early in the morning to help make the bust. She tossed the offending book aside and went to get ready for bed.
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