By Melodie Campbell (Bad Girl)
Ever make a really bad typo? I mean really bad.
My worst ever professional mistake was in an Annual Report for a one-hundred-million dollar corporation, when I was the director of marketing and communications. Unfortunately, an innocent little ‘t’ went missing from the word ‘assets.’ The board was not amused by “This year, we experienced an increase in corporate asses.”
Recently, I found out what one little vowel can do to Rowena and the Dark Lord, book 2 in the Land’s End sexy fantasy series.
Okay, REALLY uncool when the publicist misspells the name of your book on the launch announcements.
Rowena and the Dark LARD is probably not the best way to get sales for a ‘Outlander meets Sex and the City’ fantasy series.
However, as I do write comedy, I'm thinking about a parody.
Is it okay to write a parody of your own book?
Draft one: ROWENA AND THE DARK LARD
Synopsis 1: Rowena moves back to Land’s End and opens up a bakery.
Synopsis 2: Cedric’s use of dark magic goes totally out of control, and so does his appetite.
Synopsis 3: Thane and Rowena return to Land’s End and become pig farmers.
Synopsis 4: Rowena messes up another spell that causes all who look at her to turn into donuts.
Synopsis 5: Rowena kills off Nigella Lawson in a battle with pastry rollers, and assumes the role
of Prime Time Network Food Goddess <sic>.
Synopsis 6: Someone takes a totally justified whack at the author. End of series.
Postscript: Recently was quoted by someone as the author of ROWENA AND THE DORK LORD. Trial for murder is pending.
Post postscript (where is a Latin scholar when you need one?): Another contract is out for the professional book tour company last month, who, in all their advertising, inadvertently switched book 3 Rowena and the Viking Warlord to… wait for it… Viking Landlord. Yup. Obviously there will be hell to pay if you forget the rent.
Excerpt from Rowena and the Dark Lord:
Men’s voices again, echoing like souls lost in a fog. The mist lifted in one swift movement to disappear into nothingness. In its place, were at least a hundred men.
Bugger. I messed up.
“Houston, we have a problem,” I said out loud. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I must have pronounced one of the spell words wrong.
“Who is Houston?” Lars said.
“Romans!” Gareth hissed. He drew his sword.
“Romans?” I stared at the battle-scarred men before us. They looked exhausted. They also looked bloody, dirty and rather short. Not to mention confused.
How the heck could they be Romans?
Someone yelled “Form Square!” in—yup—that was Latin.
“What the hell?” I stared. The men came to life moving with purpose into a square. Within seconds we were facing a shield wall bristling with spears.
The man on horseback stared at me. No stirrups on his saddle. A helmet that was in history books. Definitely Roman. I stared back at him.
Romans? In this time? What the poop had I done?
“It’s a freaking temporal rift!” My laugh was strident. “Where is Spock when you need him?”
Amazon link for Rowena and the Dark Lord: