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What inspired you to write your book?
I stumbled across a wise old gentleman sitting in a tavern. He looked kind of thirsty, so I bought him a pint. As a return he handed me this ancient manuscript filled with absurd creatures from lands not found on any modern maps. After reading the book, I realized I was pretty hungry. So, I ate the book. Next thing I knew, this absurd story started spilling out onto a napkin.
Here is a short sample from the book:
There are many reasons why a man, such as our hero, would be so plastered in the middle of the week. He could have turned to the pint to calm his nerves; for heroing is quite the stressful career. He might have tipped the bottle back as a means for celebration; for finding a job, questing or not, is fairly difficult in such a trying economy. Or, quite possibly, he glugged away to forget the horrors of Monday; and that, my friend, sounds like a very fine reason to me. But it was for neither of these reasons, I’m afraid. Our hero was drunk as a skunk in the morn of a Tuesday simply because he was burnt out.
Our young hero, as I’m sure you have come to expect, was a knight. But his armor wasn’t shiny and he was far from your idea of what a hero should be. He was four foot eleven. Too tall for a dwarf and too short for a man. He was as stout as a teapot with curves that would bring a blush to most women’s faces. His arms were pudgy in the middle and stringy on the ends. And to make matters worse, he even had the strength of a schoolgirl; if said girl had broken both of her arms and was forced to bear a crutch. No, dear reader, this man was far from what you’d expect a typical knight to be.
And as you can expect, he was terrible at being one. Most knights are fairly successful in their career; having saved at least one princess in their time. And if they failed, they typically had the honor of being killed off in the process. But what makes our hero so different is that he miserably fails at both of these tasks. Not once has he saved a princess and not once has he perished in the attempt.
So our hero drank. And he drank. And he drank some more. And before he knew it, Monday had passed and Tuesday began. So he mounted his steed and began his assignment.