So, thanks to truepenny, I now have titles for three books, if my publisher is interested: Pinion, Sanction, and Cleave*. And a title for the whole thing: The House of Dust.
But that's not what's making me laugh and laugh and laugh.
See, I have run out of physical appearances for characters. I used to know what everybody looked like, in my head. Which is why I could never cast actors to play them, because they looked like themselves.
Somewhere around Undertow I ran out. And so in this book, I didn't know what anybody looked like, and actors are usually too pretty. So I started making everybody look like various blues guitarists. And because this is the book where my motto is "That's fucked up! Let's put it in!" I've got both an Elric parody and Benedict of Amber parody*** wandering around.
Which now leads us to the situation I'm in, which is !Benedict, as portrayed by Chris Smither, standing in the hallway in his bunny slippers talking to a couple of teenaged girls through a bedroom door while one of them gets entirely too tipsy on red wine.
My god I love this book. I think I have just grokked the appeal of crackfic, all at once, like a slash of enlightment.**
*What do these three words have in common?
**Yes, that was a typo, but it was so good I had to leave it in.
***No. There will not be any !Benedict/!Elric slash. Back away now and PUT THE CRACK PIPE DOWN.