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… or that one time when I received the best gift one could ever wish for! But before we get into all of that, how about we get some of the more serious stuff out of the way first? Useful links: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cw/BenjaminWuyts Website: https://benjaminwuyts.com/ The age that shapes me (and us) The Welcome & Goodbye, Earth universe The main story: First of all, I’ve been immensely busy and will remain busy for probably another three weeks or so. I’ve been preparing for live book events such as Comic Cons, making banners, bookmarks, business cards, a pattern for a tablecloth and much more. These things take a long time to do, probably because I’m not a designer and am still learning how to use Affinity. By the time I’ve sent out this newsletter, I will also have received a slightly updated version of the books, and once that is done, I can actually start formatting the two parts of the side stories that are coming out in probably September. Actually, I honestly think that’s why everything might have slowed down a bit. The stress of two new parts coming out. Also, I decided that I will attempt to create my own covers. Let’s see how it goes. I’ll keep you updated in the next newsletters on the progress, and by then I’ll also show you everything I’ve created for the live book events. So, where am I in the main story? Still in Chapter 53. Yep. Yep. This will actually be the longest chapter so far, as I’m aiming for 30k words. I’m also making a massive outline for the whole story so that I have at least a general overview of where I’m going with this. The sidestories: Same here. I’m currently far too busy to get any proper writing done. Stormtrooper to F4 is slowly getting bigger and bigger, while Under the Skin and The Unwanted Help are being formatted. Apologies for being a bit slow at the moment. Fun fact, for those interested: you can actually beta read both Under the Skin novellas on my Patreon. You can let me know what you think or offer suggestions. Once formatted, they will remain available for one more month, or at least until they go live on Amazon. The fun stuff ↓ Quick note: I decided to shorten my newsletters and will no longer include the following things.
Why? Waaaay too long, and it just takes a lot of time writing them! Frienemies of the Ben (Note to all: I have absolutely no idea where this story is going, so let’s all just sit back and enjoy the ride!) (Another note: I’m also not on drugs!) Previously, within the Frienemies of the Ben series, From the Far East came a dog with a certain intelligence not once before observed among pets. This dog, named Luna, after having seen a certain ritual, tossed its dad to all four corners of the room, after which its owner vowed, in secret, to find out more about what this thing really was. And now, the continuation… First of all, before I tell you how I ended up finding out about whatever it is you are about to read, it is important to realise that no dogs or cats were hurt in the making of this story. All of this, after all, is a work of fiction, or at least that had been what I thought until my friends, the cats, received word of what exactly went down. They had been bugging my place when it was just my dog and me, and they ended up telling me the truth. That truth being the war between pets. Now, before you think of calling the Winchester boys to come and inspect your pet dog, fish, cat, hamster, or snake, only for them to drench your favourite animal in holy water, it is important to realise that not every pet or animal is like this. Some animals, Earth-born animals that is, are actually born as plain animals. Others, on the other hand, mostly the adopted ones that were running around on the streets somewhere, have simply taken up the form of these little creatures. Now, if at this moment you’re thinking, “Dude, what on Earth have you been smoking?”, know that I, too, asked these questions when these four-legged creatures we know as cats suddenly started communicating with me in ways not even Luna or the other dogs in her pack were communicating. Telepathy, therefore, is a real thing. Azi, and Gagi, as they called themselves, explained to me that the creature that had taken the shape of Luna had come from a place called Kong. This world, which was not too far away from our own, had been at war with the planet Purrr for so long that not one person alive could actually remember when it started or why. When asked why this particular war had shifted towards Earth without anyone noticing, the answer was apparently quite simple. Purrrian intelligence had found out that Kongers were looking for something, and it was the Purrrian belief that this something was a weapon of great power, one that could quite possibly bring an end to this conflict once and for all in favour of the Kong homeworld. Which was why the Purrrians were here: to prevent such a disaster from happening. As to why all of this was happening without anyone noticing, their answer was very straightforward: because humans are stupid. Fun fact! Here, however, is the funny part, or at least the part that I found amusing in all of this. The machine that brings them here, and I’m not talking about a spaceship, messes up their brains somewhat, making it impossible for both Purrrians and Kongers to differentiate fact from fiction. In other words, everything they hear or see is real to them until physically proven otherwise by Purrrians and Kongers themselves. How exactly would they disprove such a thing? They don’t, meaning that every Ring of Power they put on, every time they point a wand at an unsuspecting individual while screaming, “Avada Kedavra!”, and nothing happens, simply means that it must have been a fake until they find the real one. This also explains why both Purrrians and Kongers are present at all these Comic-Con-type conventions, dressed up so that no one notices, looking for that one weapon, or why libraries and archives everywhere become immense centres of intelligence after closing time, and why some are found damaged in the morning after a Konger and a Purrrian have encountered one another. How do they know this? Like I said, they didn’t just tell me, they showed me. Mental security footage from a time far in the future, containing creatures of unknown origin in long robes debating something they referred to as “Operation Treat”, how it was on Earth, how one of them, presumably the one I know as Luna, was going to join and lead the others already there in search of it, and how the machine that would bring her, or it, here was powered up and ready to be used. What in the world did I get myself into? Also, what in the hell was I going to tell Wife? The age that shaped me (and us)
I met some of the coolest, funniest and worst people on this platform called Couchsurfing, and before you ask, and also because I know that the person this refers to is actually opening these newsletters, or at least that is what Kit tells me, this is a story about the first two. The exact origin story of how or where I met this person, this illustrator, is unclear to me. What I can tell you is that I knew she was an illustrator, or at least a creative person, long before she told me she was exactly that. How and why, you no doubt wonder? I do not know. Perhaps because of the clothes she was wearing, including her shoes, nails, eyes and even her teeth, were of a different but matching colour. That, and the fact that she wore pencils as shoes and had her nails and teeth filed into, you guessed it, pencils… Before I continue, see if you can spot the house of an illustrator, as I remembered it. I’ll wait.
She came from a place called Limburg, which, for those who do not know, is an area in Belgium famous for winning every world slow-speaking competition since it began somewhere in medieval times. If you asked me how slow exactly we are talking about, then I could best compare it to Old Entish, which is the language spoken by Ents, not ants. Eventually, as some Couchsurfers do, she began hosting her own events. More specifically, spaghetti events, the way they do it in Limburg. Quick note: the only thing that is slow in Limburg is the language, so we were not specifically worried about how long this would take or how long the pasta would be cooking. What we were worried about was the inside of her place, and not in a bad way. My friends, I’ve seen things inside that place you would not believe. Sure, I’ve been inside the house of an artist before, but not like this. Never like this. I do not know how best to describe it, so I’ll just say whatever pops into my mind. Once this colour-filled artist, who does not like anything plain, opened the door to her mansion, it was like stepping into the witch’s house from Hansel and Gretel, but instead of the sweet stuff that literally covered everything, the walls, floors, ceilings and furniture were covered with every coloured crayon imaginable. This was not wallpaper, but the real deal! White, black or plain transparent. Unless necessary, none of them existed in her world. Toilet? Yellow! Toilet paper? Pink! Water to flush or drink? Blue! Windows? Covered from the inside with coloured foil. Pasta? Pasta? Pasta? COLOURED! But OMG, so good! What, then, you no doubt wonder, does all of the above have to do with the image on the board? Simple, really. I am sure it will not come as a surprise when I say that she drew it at the Ghent Festival, another one of those events that have been going on since medieval times. And that, as they say, is that. Stories that didn’t make the board: beds that are too small! This might end up being a shorter story, but I’ll try to stretch it out a bit. First things first. The situation, illustrated by a simple drawing.
Would you like to know more? Come to think of it, this post is actually for those who are not only tall but harbour an absolute hatred of beds with a footboard. In fact, I can’t quite believe there are still hotels out there fitted with these monstrosities in every single room, and I’m fairly certain that every time a tall person checks in, the person at reception is dying to say something like, “Enjoy your stay, you midget!” These are the same people who, upon checkout, dare to ask whether you had a pleasant stay. The very people you should be demanding come up to your room so you can ask them what on earth this is. A bed for ants?! If you’re tall and thinking, “Actually, I quite like beds with a footboard and never have any issues,” then you are what we Tallies call a…
“But Ben!” you might then say. “People in the Middle Ages all had footboards and never complained. It is written!” Which (fun fact!) is actually true, and also explains why, if you visit a museum or a castle, beds from that period are always so small. Lying down was associated with death; therefore, people slept in a more upright position, which was also considered healthier. So, whether you were tall or short, you slept slightly propped up. And if, after all that, a tall person was still complaining about his feet touching the board, they would usually just burn you. A practice they eventually had to abandon due to the number of ships crashing ashore after mistaking your blaze for a lighthouse. Stretching only made the problem worse, as it required specialised equipment and a very expensive man from Spain, who charged by the hour, called Vamos. When the treasury eventually said “no more”, they began burying tall people instead, but that too came to a permanent halt after villagers started complaining about their blisters and back pain from having to dig a trench long and deep enough to accommodate you. Eventually, after 600 years of persecution, a Dutch inventor named Mohdie Lange created a bed that was not only longer, but also entirely free of a footboard. And that is the story of that. And thus the tall people of this good Earth were granted their freedom. For that, too, is written. Back to the here and now. Just to be clear: this story isn’t about those nasty footboards. It’s about the one tall-people issue we Tallies all face, depending on where you are and what season you happen to find yourself in. And I think that last part is probably hint enough as to what’s coming. So, at this point, we return to last issue’s question. What is the one thing that helps you sleep at night and is a vital part of your luggage, no matter where you go? Would you mind telling me what that is and the story behind it? Are you ready? If so, follow the arrows… ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Remember when I said I’d stretch this out a bit? ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Keep going! ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Almost there! ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Knitted socks!
What? Knitted socks! But why? (A typical short person’s response.) Because they actually have benefits! My friends, control your enthusiasm, because this is, quite rightly, the answer to those feet sticking out of the bed and turning cold. These bad boys have been my friends and allies for over five years. They are only not worn when it becomes too hot, and even then I still pack them when travelling, just to be sure. Because if there is one thing I do not like, if there is one thing anyone whose feet stick out of the bed surely does not like, it is having cold feet at night. Sure, there are always the hardcore biker boys worrying about their ego, saying, “Men do not wear that at night.” But I am convinced those are just big words, and that when night falls they wear not only socks but a matching pair of pyjamas, a sleeping hat and perhaps even enjoy a glass of milk, because even the baddies appreciate a bit of comfort. Right? And that is that. I hope you enjoyed this story, at least somewhat. See you next time. In the next issue of Benjamin’s Welcome & Goodbye, Earth newsletter
Questions will no longer be included. |
#4 – Lundiana Jones vs the beds that are too small!
... or that one time when I received the best gift one could ever wish for!