by John Grant
My good friend J. Marie Knuckle (sister of my other good
friend Dave, who is taking a brief respite in Folsom from the
stresses of his business career) has recently been scathed by
several days' attendance at the annual convention of the Romantic
Writers' Association. In the wake of this she muttered something
about my perhaps one day thinking of writing in the genre.
She should have known better. I'm always keen to seize on a
good business opportunity.
I now proudly present my draft outline for what I believe to
be the first full-blown romantic novel to be directed exclusively
at the male market. I've done it under a pseudonym, of course,
because I recently learned to spell that word and am using it
everywhere I can.
World rights in this mind-numbing novel are available, so
PUBLISHERS!! Hurry your offers of
huge advances to my agent Leonie Strider (email@example.com)!
GOLDEN GLOWS THE SUNSET
Draft outline for a male-interest romantic novel by
Dai S. "Bo" Ripper
 SHE is Dolores, a fantastically beautiful, inordinately
wealthy (mention Croesus here to display that romantic novels
aren't just for thickoes but have a certain cultural cachet) sex
maniac and belly dancer (stick in some stuff about her having an
IQ, something like that). She has little to learn about the rules
of the Game of Life, despite being only 18 (21 in some states)
and a virgin. JADED by all her riches and maybe SATED by all the
luxuries of the world, she takes a part-time job as a demure
governess, even though her silly superficial friends laugh at her
for it, preferring to pop each other's zits in time to their
Britney Spears CDs instead.
 HE is, er, Bo (I can change the name if the publisher so
wishes), a somewhat scruffy, bearded, reclusive, plumpish
50something-year-old with no money and no apparent attractive
features aside from his INTERNATIONALLY RENOWNED barbed-wire
collection, about which he can talk at length and REALLY, REALLY
FEW CAN UNDERSTAND why DOLORES, with all the world to choose
from, should be so interested in BO, but little do they know that
he is also a wannabe romance writer of GREAT BUT HITHERTO
UNDISCOVERED TALENT and a REAL TIGER IN BED (probably I've
still got to research this bit).
FROM PARIS TO LONDON TO BAHRAIN (sp?) the scene shifts, with
all the GLITTER of extreme wealth and plenty of free booze and
cigs for BO as DOLORES realizes she LOVES HIM ENTIRELY and lusts
after him with AN EXCESSIVE LUST that can only be satisfied in
754 ways (I bought a manual on half.com so there should be plenty
of verisimilitude here), including the expensive one with the
RAVIOLI and the POTTED GERANIUM (first time round I accidentally
bought a manual on indoor gardening; I was jolly pleased to
discover it could be put to good use after all). And she doesn't
mind him having other women on the side, either, because NYMPHETS
are queuing up, like.
BUT THERE IS A SNAKE IN THE GRASS in the form of ALPHONSE, a
dashingly handsome, unbelievably rich, talented, witty young
screen idol and aristocrat and who once met George W. Bush (the
self-styled Man Who Put the "W" in "President") and who's hung
like a horse, the bastard. He threatens their IDYLL, but . . .
NOW READ ON for this gripping tale of a ROMANCE that SPANS
THE CONTINENTS AND ALL TIME ITSELF, for MOUNTAINTOPS OF PASSION,
for RIVERS OF ECSTASY, for EARTHQUAKES OF DESIRE, for VOLCANOES
OF EMOTION and for BUCKETS OF SEX.
DOLORES meets BO by the Budweiser machine at the bowling
alley and immediately perceives his outward appearance of
stultifying dullness is really a FASCINATING ENEMA. He QUITE
DELIBERATELY, whatever any of his stupid, unpoetic bowling-mates
from the International Barbed-Wire Appreciation Society (IBWAS)
might say, trips over his feet, pours his Budweiser Lite into his
right ear, and gets his tongue painfully lodged in the coin-
DOLORES invites BO back to her place, which proves to be the
entire Trump International Hotel. She allows him to HAVE ANYTHING
HE WANTS from room service and the mini-bar.
Dramatic tension: The Trump International Hotel doesn't stock
Budweiser Lite. Bo has to make do with Busch.
Chapter Three to Chapter Ten
They get it on a lot. Fortunately room service does an
BO strangles ALPHONSE extremely slowly and painfully with a
spare length of 1922 Chevrolet FenceSekure Trojan MasterKlamp
(very rare!). But he does this with a sensitivity that melts both
DOLORES' HEART and about four pounds of parmesan cheese.
Chapter Twelve to Chapter Twenty
BO gets it on a lot with DOLORES and PIPER PERABO and
JENNIFER LOPEZ and ALL OF JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS AT ONCE and
THAT BABE WHO WAS IN TITANIC WHAT'S HER NAME and BUFFY THE
VAMPIRE SLAYER and the GIRLS IN FRIENDS and a few others, all of
whom prove to like Budweiser Lite and join IBWAS and vote him
President of IBWAS in an exciting run-off against the corpse of
that bastard Alphonse Mullett who only got elected in the first
place because of that time he met George W. Bush. They all,
except George W. Bush who's too busy at the White House, have a
REALLY FANTASTIC RAVIOLI PARTY TOGETHER and talk a lot about
barbed wire and they don't miss Alphonse Mullett NOT EVEN A BIT.