| I was out with Team Seattle a few nights ago, and the conversation turned to our wacky relatives. Then, in a phone call with my agent, we started talking about people we both knew that no one would buy as characters in a novel. You know the kind--people who are so off the reservation that critics and first readers ding you for being, yanno, unbelievable. I've known a few of those in my time, the most memorable of which I can't recount here because I know they're reading my blog. So sad. I guess I'll just have to put their crazy in a novel some day and hope people don't think I'm actually making this shit up. It brings up an interesting point in my mind, though--as authors of fiction, we have an unspoken responsibility to our readers to keep our fantasy within the bounds of a reader's suspension of disbelief. If I told the story about my college stalker in one of my novels, no one would buy it as a logical sequence of events in the story because the guy was just that wacked. I do use the good parts, though, hanging small nuggets of truth on the framework of a character who slots believably into the story I'm telling. Less is generally more, because there's a threshold when readers throw up their hands and declare that you're just making shit up! It's a fine balance to strike, but cherish the crazies you meet throughout your life--they make for some of the best fiction. Since I can't be too specific about my weirdos here, tell me about the person in your life voted Most Likely to be Stranger Than Fiction! And I'll sweeten the pot: best story of Crazy wins an ARC of Pure Blood, Book 2 of the Nocturne City series, which won't be out until August 26th. Get to typing and I'll announce the winner next Thursday. |
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Biggest pot of crazy? Hmmm. Well, I don't think the boyfriend I walked in on who was wearing my clothes is more than a garden-variety weirdo, so let's go with the roommate of a college friend who was so seriously mentally unbalanced that she thought her furniture came to life and night and wandered around in the darkness, trying to trip her. She also believed that the elves that lived between the walls of her apartment were trying to steal some of her DNA so they could use it to make a pod person of her, so whenever she brushed or cut her hair, or cut her nails, she would save the clippings in baby food jars, superglue them shut, and bury them in the yard.
She did the same thing with her urine, feces, and used menstrual products.
I wish I was making this up. Ick.
I'm going to use a random person. We'll call her Maureen O'conner Matthews or Mom for short. So, mom is probably the strangest person I know. It starts with the wonderful stories about her 51 first cousins while growing up on the Indian reservation during the summers and working on mad science with her German grandparents in the winter. Pretty much all false, but that just gives you an idea.
She recreates her life every few years, not unlike Madonna. Every one layers on top of each other so somehow the Olympic caliber archery meshes with the days spent on the Indian reservation and her times in the emergency room just add to this body of mythology that is internally consistent over twenty-five years (with a few exceptions), but told in an entirely believable manner. That is to say, with the complete and utter conviction that it actually happened no matter the proof.
Mom is also obscenely good at working with people. She tells the right lies in the right time. Somehow, this has translated to convincing clients that she has 100's of people working for her when it is normally just 5, 10, 15 or so doing everything. She convinced a mayor of a town that she was a philanthropist. She is also very good at skirting issues, the number of times I've seen her audited, be brought before a judge, and convince them that she is innocent is amazing. I've seen her walk into courts while being sued by four companies and somehow manage to only get hit with a $1000/month fee for the next 85 years... twice. The second time was a hostile IRS auditor who already started the proceeding of seizing her assets.
This same charisma is also how she manages to pay people six, eight, or even ten months behind and no one quits. She won't pay them for three months solid and somehow no one quits. Not even when she goes on a cruise or drops $26k on fabric, they still hang around, believing her when she says "money is right around the corner." Its like a cult of mom when it happens because they'll get aggressive if you suggest they find more profitable (i.e. that pays) employment. When I was in it, working for mom, I didn't realize how slithery she could get into you, until you actually believe working harder and longer is the only way to really succeed. And that just next week, you'll get your back pay. *sigh*
Its almost as bad as the people who actually believe she grew up in the Judo-archery Indian reservation while working with explosives during her winters and how tragic it was that she shattered her knee while skiing in the Aspens between her dance, history and philosophy classes.
Great idea for a contest... I have to ponder this one for a bit... but I WANT that ARC!
Hrm....let's see. So many weirdos so little typing space...but there is one that is my friend's favorite story to tell their children. Cautionary tales.
A very nice girl who's little boy I taught at church asked me for my email. She has a brother that's a bit geeky (so am I) and she thinks we'd make good penpals. Okay, I can live with that. The first email from him is "Ya wanna go out?" Umm...his sister is nice...okay.
So the brother shows up 20 minutes late on the night of the date. Okay, a little late I can take. He's dressed in ripped black jogging pants, T-shirt with a flannel shirt over it. His hair goes to his shoulders and obviously hasn't seen soap in a while and he's unshaven. Not a great first impression. I thought about calling it off. I'm an idiot for not calling it off.
We get into the car and inside is the most revolting stench ever. Significant BO, nearly to the dry heaving point. He gets in and it gets worse. Now I'm staying only for the sake of polite and because I'm hungry, dammit, and if I'm going to put up with this there'd better be good food.
He drives. Argues English Lit with me and takes me to...Comp USA. I ask him why we're here. He tells me that he thought it'd be a fun date to go buy the digital camera he's been watching for that's on sale. Riiiight. He shops for that, I look at printer ink and call my mother while I'm wandering around the store. Eventually he gets done, and I ask him about dinner.
He blinks and says... "Umm...I don't know of any places to eat around here. We could get something out of the vending machine over there. Then I want to go back to my place and work on the camera."
The CompUSA is right next to three dining place and within five miles of at least 30. So I tell him that I'll go get food myself, totally planning to WALK. He steps up and says he'll take me somewhere, but doesn't have much cash on him. I try to talk him into just taking me home, but he insists he'll make this up to me. Uh huh.
We get to Chevy's, a nice Mexican place, where he proceeds to insult the waiter for having an accent and orders the biggest thing on the menu while I've order a side salad cause he 'didn't have much cash on him'.
The horror ended when a friend IMed me and gave me an excuse to demand to be taken home NOW. He packed things up, took every chip on the table and then stiffed the waiter an appropriate tip (I went back and gave the kid ten bucks for his patience). I've never been so glad to run into my house and lock the doors.
So there we go...the stinky man who dates at CompUSA and feeds his dates from a vending machine all while talking about why Tolkien was a gay freak and being a cheap bigot.
~J
haha I don't know how I could possibly beat the people already posted! haha Especially the first one. :D
I mean there is always Anton...he's definitely stranger than fiction!
I'll have to think about this one...
Hey, you ever get that fellow writer in a work shop, where as you are critiquing their FICTION, they whine "But that's how it REALLY happened!" They're basing their fiction on so much no so cleverly veiled biographical stuff, that they fail to see the suckage on the page. I try not to throw anything at them, I really try.
Just cuz it happened don't make it a good story on the page, pal!
Okay, I don't expect to top any of the other stories, but I have to share because NO ONE would believe it was a real person. It...grew up in a religious home and a religious school. Being of one white parent and one black parent, this person learned at an early age that this made things hard, AND that being female meant being a /lesser/ creature intended to be subservient to a male. This person lived later teen years masquerading a male and eventually had an operation to make it official. I only met this person, friend of a friend, as an adult. As a large group of us hung together regularly, this person's intrusion into that group happened at a terrible time... one of the group was unexpectedly dying. So the rest of us, being vulnerable and hurt, kind of let this person come in and manipulate the hell out of each of us and rip all our friendships apart. This person tried to befriend us as a confidant, as a person who would help all the troubles...but used all our words against us in turn until all were driven away. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to insult transgendered people or multi-racial people. This particular person was an ASSHOLE. And as I understand it, this person died on the operation table for nearly two minutes. And I think what came back wasn't human. It was evil. Not red-eyed reaper-evil, but "I'll bring destruction and misery to all who cross my path" evil. Not black, not white but both. Not male, not female, but both. Not sane, but smooth-talking evil. See? No one would buy that.
Brooke-
I was gonna be offended, but then, well.. I thought about and yer right!
I'll see you when you least expect it to give you a special "prize".
Ummm....that would be me. My first boyfriend was the ex-boyfriend of my best friend. My second boyfriend was her brother. My husband was her ex-fiancee. She and her daughter lived with my husband and I and our family for six months during her divorce. Wait, it gets better! Her brother (my second boyfriend) married the sister of her second husband! No, we're not related - that would just be the icing on the cake! Apparently we both just have really good taste......
I have a feeling that my crazy co-worker wouldn't work here. I could insert myself...but some people think I'm normal. My problem is that I have a life that is stranger than fiction. It could be a soap opera. But anyways. The co-worker.
I wouldn't even know where to start with her. She is a former alcoholic/drug (prescription meds) user. She's an older woman who swears she can't learn anything new. She blames her inability to sit still all day on ADD. She's back on drugs for ADD. She interrupts a conversation and starts talking about other things. She walks around and talks about how "smart you are" And the excuses she uses for not doing something right? She blames someone else.
Its sad. It really is. But if you met her, you'd think she is stranger than fiction sometimes.
There's no way in hell I can out do these people. I'm still shaking my head at the "nuances" some of you detailed. I have the utmost sympathy for you. But, I can't come on here and not tell ya about...
My old college roommate. He was an odd one. He loved to challenge me to any kind of competition. He'd open up with, "Do you want to play *blank* - I'm not that good." Then he'd procede to beat my ass and walk away laughing.
He had a fiance that he called religiously. He'd cry on the phone about how much he missed her then I'd find him humping some girl from a different dorm, or one of the RA's little sister. That was a huge no-no considering that the RA was a big, over-protective linebacker for the college team.
And besides the fact that when you'd say something to him, if he didn't catch it he'd reply by saying, "Wa-wa?" - Damn that was irratating - He liked my porn collection. I'd catch him rifling through it and then he'd lie about it while I stared at him tucking things away. That didn't bug me cause it was porn and it was college. But one night...
I came back to my room with one of my buddies. He lived off campus and was of drinking age so he kept me pretty well soused on a daily basis. We were going to grab my over night stuff when i heard something in my room. I slipped my key in the door and snapped it open. My roommate leapt off his bed and a Penthouse (yep, it was mine) slapped on the floor. He was only wearing his pants and a red face. And his hands covered an obviously open fly. I asked him what he was up to and he just shrugged. My buddy leaned against the closet and just stared at him. To add insult to injury I handed him his mail to which he grabed and quickly covered the open fly.
I turned my back and heard the mag scrape across the floor. I look back and it's gone. Still my buddy is staring right at my roommate. I look over at my closet and grab my bag and hear a zip. I look back and he's waltzing across the room now holding the mail up at bare-chested level like I don't know what's going on and my buddy isn't drilling him with his peepers.
We left and laughed our asses off. Then several months later someone called his fiance about his bedroom antics and he bawled for days, calling her to explain about the lies and how everyone hates him because they're jealous.
See, not as wild but wild enough.
I used to work on a remodel crew .one of the stores I helped remodel had a really strange customer.he would come in wearing a trench coat,sunglasses and hat.as soon as he stepped into the building he would twirl around and open the door looking to see if anyone was following him.then he would walk up and down the aisles.every little while he would whip around to make sure no one was sneaking up on him.then he would go to the bathroom and open the door to see if someone was hiding in there.everyone ignored him. I guess they were used to it.he always bought a pack of gum and threw the first stick in the trash.
when he was ready to leave he would look out the door again before making a run to his car.before he got in the car,he would get down and look under the car and then check the back seat.then instead of getting into the drivers seat,he would throw himself into the back seat.after a couple of minutes his head would pop up and he would look all around. when he finally decided it was safe he would climb over the seat and take off.one of the employees said that he thought he was a spy.it was the funniest thing I've ever seen. I just wish I had a video camera with me ,because no one believes me when I tell that story.
I'm a nurse and have met many, many surreally strange people. So many that I couldn't even begin to pick the strangest.
I just want to let everyone know...there are some truly f'ed up folks out there!
I've met a few "nutters" in my life, lol. I had a truly scary stalker for a few months. He fed me some sob story about 4 guys beating him up and it turns out it was one girl. She did a pretty good job on him too! He actually tackled a policeman to try and get at me! The police taking him away and putting a restraining order on him didn't put him off either. I had to have a friend, who just happens to be a big biker, threaten him to get him to leave me alone.
Then there was the girl who totally believed that "the demons" came and had sex with her if she shut out the lights... and my friend got stuck driving this girl somewhere for about 2 hours at night, while this girl was yelling "go faster, go faster, the demons are coming!", over and over. It was a hellish road-trip for my friend to say the least!
I also had a friend who's a nurse and have heard some truly ridiculous stories about men coming into the emergency with various "objects" stuck up in their um.. nether-parts, LMAO.
My whole family are stranger than fiction but I won't go there...
I doubt I could come up with anything better than the previous posts anyway without getting sued ;)
Although there are the Austrians (I live in Austria but I am British) who seem to have a 'Cellar fetish'. I am sure everyone read about these guys in the news but it really makes me check on neighbours 'cellars' and any suspicious holes they start digging in the garden or around the house.
A friends neighbours started digging in their garden and we all agreed that if they did't make it into a swimming pool that we were going to call the police!
I wonder how long it will take before this 'cellar' story makes it into a book...
Darn confidentiality requirements of the day job...this place is a goldmine of stories for this contest.
I'm not even going to try. There's no way I can outdo the other stories.
may: You never know. Something that is only slightly off to you is something amazingly strange to someone else. Plus, even reading what someone things is strange is usually just as fun.