A Writer's Journey: Part 1

There comes a time in a person’s life when he has to let go of the comfortable, peaceful life, and accomplish something truly great. I feel this time has come for me, to become what I’ve always suspected I’d become someday, a professional writer.

There are only two things required to become a professional writer: A kickass blog (check) and a pair of eyeglasses (check and check). As you can see, I possess both of these things, and am therefore, a professional writer waiting to happen. Well, then I shall not struggle against inevitability for much longer, and give in to my true destiny.

Like most people with spectacles and a blog, I have of course written a novel. This is no big secret, for if you have been around writers for long, you will find that those who have not been published yet have written exactly one novel. Perhaps you will be discussing a type of fine quiche, and they will mention that the specific quiche you mentioned just happens to be the quiche of choice of the main character of their novel. Or maybe you will be talking about Johnny Carson, and your writer friend may say, “Johnny Carson, say, he has hands, doesn’t he? You know who else has hands? The characters in my novel.”

But, dear reader, I am not here to bore you with the details and structure of hands, for I am sure there are less mundane, and less retarded aspects of my book that you would like to hear about. My novel is entitled, “Jake Headstrong, Freelance Pugilist, in the Case of the Estonian Phosphorite Conflict.” Hopefully you can glean much of the story’s plot from the title, namely that the main theme of the story is the international intrigue and espionage over Estonia’s coveted phosphorite minerals. In this setting, Jake Headstrong, a bespectacled professional writer and soldier of fortune with nerves of steel, biceps of rough, tanned leather, and a kickass blog, is called in by the United States government to solve a crisis brewing in Eastern Europe. The reader is then invited to thrill in the escapades of Jake Headstrong’s straightforward, take no prisoners approach to the keeping of peace and the kicking of asses.

It would, of course, be quite impossible to publish all 619 chapters, 4,890 pages worth of action, adventure, and romance to this blog, not to mention that someone could easily steal my work and pass it off as their own. But then, it would be equally cruel to deprive you of it entirely, so in the spirit of compromise I have agreed to post a sample chapter for your enjoyment. Be aware, however, that this is one of the slower chapters, giving Jake a chance to catch his breath after a huge action scene. It is presented here merely to whet your appetite, and prepare you for the excitement ahead should you choose to buy a copy of my book (forthcoming).

In the meantime, set back, and enjoy this sample from:


Jake Headstrong, Freelance Pugilist
in
the Case of the Estonian Phosphorite Conflict

Chapter 62 - National Security

“You’re safe for now, Mr. President,” Jake Headstrong said to the president. “Those ninjas won’t bother you now.” The President awoke to find himself laying on the sofa in the Oval Office. Jake Headstrong turned away from the President and quietly kissed his two fists, Rapscallion and Haymaker. Before turning back to the President, Rapscallion grabbed a huge cigar from his pocket, and Haymaker obliged him with a light.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Headstrong,” the President blubbered. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m so sorry, I’m just not strong enough to run this country!”

Before he could comprehend what was happening, Haymaker was slamming into the President’s chin, lifting him off the ground. As the President landed, he heard Jake Headstrong’s gruff voice shouting at him, “Snap out of it Mr. President! Fine, if you won’t run this country, then I will.”

Without warning, Jake picked up the red phone on the desk, and shouted into it, “now hear this! This is Jake Headstrong, and I’ll be in charge of things from now on.” He slammed the phone down without noticing the confused voice of the Russian diplomat on the other end. From there he marched directly into the War Room.

The men inside the War Room did not know who this man was, but they stood at attention as soon as he entered. Jake Headstrong took one look the screen, and said, “this situation in Iran is getting ridiculous. Let’s just bomb them.”

The Secretary of Defense sheepishly raised his hand. “Um, sir,” he said, “you want to bomb the whole country of Iran?”

“That’s what I said,” Jake Headstrong bellowed back at him, “and when I say I want something done, that means I want it done now.”

“But sir, the sheer amount of explosives, not to mention the diplomatic recours--" The Secretary’s protest was interrupted by Rapscallion entering his skull through his right temple, and exiting through the back of his skull. “I am now also the Secretary of Defense, as well as the President,” Jake declared. The rest of the cabinet silently nodded in agreement.

Jake Headstrong’s next order of business was to address the United Nations. “I want Marine One in the air right now,” he shouted at someone whose name he didn’t know. “Sir,” the frightened voice came back, “Marine One is fueled and ready to go. It can take off as soon as you arrive.”

“God damn it man, there’s no time! Get that bird in the air now!” As the aide, or whatever he was, stuttered into the radio for the helicopter to take off. Jake Headstrong, meanwhile, was already climbing the stairs to the White House roof, taking them six at a time. Bursting his way onto the roof, he sprinted toward the rising helicopter. With a majestic leap, Haymaker and Rapscallion soon found themselves wrapped around the landing gear of Marine One. Jake Headstrong pulled himself up into the helicopter. “Pilot,” he said, “I need to get to UN Headquarters, and make the post be haste.” The pilot slowly turned around, revealing himself to be AN 800 POUND GRIZZLY BEAR!

Using its ability to run at a top speed of 40 kilometers per hour, the bear rushed at Jake Headstrong at a rate of 38 kilometers per hour. It swiped a mighty paw at Jake, tearing his shirt off and leaving a gigantic oozing red claw mark across his chest. Jake, for his part, did not seem to notice this. Instead he wound up his arm, and planted a firm Rapscallion right in the hairy beast’s mouth, knocking all of its teeth out. The bear fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. “Don’t worry, noble creature,” Jake said soothingly, “I’ll make it quick.” He quickly straddled the great beast, and wrapped his arms around its head, solemnly snapping its neck.

It was then that Jake Headstrong noticed the chopper was losing altitude...