He told me there are magical midget ninjas that go to his school. Oh, yeah? I ask. What are their powers?
"Umm, well, they can jump."
Okay. Not really magical, but maybe if it's really, really high, then okay. What else?
"Umm, well, they can climb walls."
You mean like really smooth walls, where there's nothing to grab onto? In that case, I'll take it. What else?
"Umm, they can turn invisible."
Invisibility? Now we're talking. I mean, if you got midgets that are magical, invisibility is a homerun, lil' buddy. But, I told him, I think next time I'd lead off with the invisibility thing. If they're ninjas, we know they can jump and climb.
Dane was just getting warmed up. They could also shoot. Transport, shrink, and fly. Oh, and they help Santa deliver presents.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop the clock. They help Santa? You're talking about THOSE magical midgets. (By the way, is "midget" a bad word?)
Ten minutes later, we sorted out the magical and mysterious ways of the midget ninjas. And I got the kernel for my next novel. Ideas start that way, with an innocent comment. Something shifts, something unfolds. By the time I write it, it probably won't have anything to do with midgets and magic.
It'll be a serious take, a sci-fi story, about the fat man himself.
The initial stages have begun. Let the sun shine down. Let the story grow and jump and climb. And not be invisible.
CLAUS
The Legend of the Fat Man
A Novel
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