Win a free book to celebrate the start of my 2010 tour, you liars...
I know I promised, recently, not to post anything about my current get-fit regime as I believed that would sound the death knell of this blog, but I offer this picture as a warning to you of the perils of exercise. This is me, with three stitches in my nose (and abraded hands and knees) after becoming intimately acquainted with the concrete footpath, near where I live, when I tripped over during a run on Sunday.
Ouch.
Double ouch. In fact, the fall didn't hurt all that much (although I bled like a dying baddy in one of my novels). What DID hurt however, like nothing I had experienced in my life, was the needles the doctor stuck into my nose to deliver the local anaesthetic. Triple ouch.
This, I am sure you will agree, was a fine look for me to be sporting as I kicked off my three week book tour. All is going well so far, with a drunken launch for family and friends last night, and a mighty fine event at the Grandview Hotel at Cleveland, in Queensland, at lunchtime today.
Predictably, the state of my scabby nose was the subject of much discussion and not a little mirth. I am afraid that telling people you tripped over while running does not engender much respect or sympathy. It doesn't really befit an author of airport action novels, does it? So I need your help.
I need a lie.
I need an impressive story of daring do that I can spin when I do my many book talks over the coming weeks - at least until the stitches come out and the scabs fall off.
How did this happen to me, do you think? Fisticuffs? Knife fight? Battle with poachers? Tangling with a wild African animal? You tell me and the best entry will win a TP book of the winner's choice (except for The Delta - you have to buy that one).
Comments
check out the appropriate scientific data pertaining to midge flying height currently being displayed on Salma-gundi blogsite!!
the perfect excuse...
You got mobbed by adoring fans at a recent book signing event where they rushed the doors, which swung back and smacked you in the nose......or....
Whilst fishing recently Mrs Blog threw the rod back and the hook stuck in your nose and ripped through it (dont know what "fish" speak for this action would be).....or.....
Your boot was full of your latest book and an over-exuberant fan thought he would help you bring in the books and smashed the opening boot into your nose
As thunder rumbled across the delta, Tony saw his chance, and sprang, his tight runner's muscles propelling him forward with cheetah-like speed and agility. He made contact with his quarry, the resulting thwack in dischord with the reverberating cacophony from the skies.
The publisher struggled free from the author and turned to him, glaring with a combination of disgust and exasperation.
"Dammit, Tony! I told you I'd publish your bloody novel. Now for the last time... quit brown-nosing!"
Brilliant!
What fun!
xoxo
Kazza
Just saying, babe...you're playing in the big leagues, now. If you want to win an autographed novel, you've gotta pay attention to details.
Heh...
Holy smokes. You're full of disinformation. It's obvious, you don't work for the Australian tourism board!
I don't even have an answer for that.
Damn! (You're good...)
My money's on you getting the best of Trev (I did think it was 'snot' too)......and your 'lie' for Tony is excellent too!
I have so much to learn...
:o)>
If you're truly upside down, Down Under. why are Dozy's boots 'thigh high'?
Where do they start?
And btw... Tony? We're waiting for Crookedpaw to submit an entry. THERE'S a man I want to beat fair and square. He thinks he's soooo smart... but he hasn't had to come up against this six foot tall Yank, yet. (Methinks he's rather timid...)
And... don't you have a birthday coming right up? We should do something special to celebrate...
And no... I don't think a black eye to compliment your nose is the way to go...
Hope the book tour is wonderful. And that Legions of Fans show up...
After driving 1,200 kilometres along some of the worst - yet most spectacular - roads in living memory, am somewhat worn and toiled. So creative synapses are misfiring, and will need a rest before grappling with T.P.'s punctured proboscis.
But I give you fair warning. The word verification for this comment is "PRANG". Surely a sign from the universe.
Nope. I think you're worried about the synapses NEVER coming back online...
(Glad you had a nice vacay, kiddo. Welcome home. But that's a pathetic attempt to throw me off, and you know it. Prang, my ^$$...)
Whose nose did ignite in the dark.
He said, "Holy gawd!
"I've been CROOKEDPAWED!
"His synapses misfired and sparked!"
It set Tony's nose all aflame...
(See... CP did covet Park's fame!)
He spoke Aussie slang...
Said, "I've roasted your 'prang'!
"Wear THAT on your book-touring game!"
So-- our valiant author-- he lied.
He couldn't say "My nose got fried!"
Whose nose lights on fire?
He'd sound like a liar!
(It might even slip that he'd cried...)
So, this man who writes African prose
Created a tale 'bout his nose.
He gave us some guff
About being all buff!
Said, "While jogging I tripped on a hose!"
The truth will stay buried in lies.
But when Tony crosses his eyes
He'll see CP's mark--
Like a flame in the dark--
That Crookedpaw dealt a surprise!
Now, in regards to Mr. Park's pranged schnoz, I think we need to extend the African theme of his book tour.
What we need is a tale of imminent danger averted at the last second, but not getting out of it totally unscathed. Toss in a bit of exotic African wildlife and you have the perfect yarn with which to tantalise future readers and whet their appetites for experiencing more things Africa. This will, of course, compel them to purchase copies of "THE DELTA" in droves as a means of satisfying those appetites.
And here is the exciting tale of how Tony Park ended up with stitches in his nose...
••••◘◘◘◘••••
In Africa there is a tiny insect known as the Rhino Fly*, which isn't so much a fly, but more like a parasitic wasp.
*There may be some in the audience who will appreciate the irony of the name whilst others who don't get the connection will assume, given Tony's work with the conservation of the animal, that the fly is associated with the rhinoceros. This will lend plausibility to the story.
What the Rhino Fly does is land on its victim and lay its eggs just under the top layer of skin. In time, the larvae hatch and begin to feed on the under layers of epidermis. Now, on large creatures, such as rhinos, this will merely leave a bit of a scab, which some of the audience may have noticed when they've been watching those wildlife shows on TV?
The Rhino Fly doesn't normally affect humans as we are much too active and sensitive to them landing on us, much like a mosquito. Sometimes, however, they do bite us without our noticing. And they can do a lot more damage to our skin than a pachyderm's. Really nasty stuff.
About three weeks after I got back to Australia, I noticed this small red lump on my nose. It was a bit sore and a bit itchy, and I just took it to be the beginnings of a pimple. After another couple of days, though, I realised that this was no pimple.
It was bigger and really red and I couldn't stop scratching, it was so itchy it wasn't funny. You know that feeling you get sometimes, when it seems like there's something crawling under your skin? That's what this was like, only it was really happening. I would have cheerfully amputated my nose just to stop it. That's when I realised I might have been bitten by the Rhino Fly.
Anyway, the upshot is that I went to the doctor and told him my suspicions. He carefully scraped off the top layer of skin on one side of the swelling and, sure enough, little tiny Rhino Fly larvae had set up home.
The doc had no choice but to give me a local anaesthetic then cut open the infectected area and scrape and wash out all the larvae.As you can see, in just those few days, they had done enough damage that he needed to put stitches in afterwards.
Imagine if I had left it for another week.
••••◘◘◘◘••••
Now wouldn't you want to buy a book full of African adventure?
ps. Tony, have read The Delta and loved it, but you need to have a word with your proof reader.
Pffft!!
Okay... Dozy just told me that a 'prang' is an accident. Not a nose. But how was I supposed to know that? According to my quasi-Aussie, who just left me after a month-long visit, I live in a 'f*****g third world country'! (In all honesty... I thought a prang was a shellfish...)
A pimple. I like that, CP. Much more believable than an injury while JOGGING!
However, I think you've been trumped by God. The 'ugly stick'... hehehehehe.
I was dead chuffed when the family then clubbed together and bought me an iPad for fathers day...
Then got Mrs Blog an iRon for her birthday and that's when the fight started and I ended up with the smack on the nose and the two black eyes.
I give up.
What language do you Aussies speak, anyway?
i-talian?
Back to the end of the line!!
You're in BIG trouble, now...
(I've told you and told you... you've GOTTA quit being so danged anal...)
If you're not going to TAKE my advice, you should quit asking for it... sheesh!
Alig G - you have been surprisingly tame throughout this whole exchange - are you saving your energy for those walks?
Dozy, I couldnt see you ever getting pistol whipped - you are one helluva lovely lady.
CP - as ever, you conjour up such amazing masterpieces from a single picture - ah vision is a bliffsul thing!!
and with no alcohol now for 13 weeks have turned quite sulky as well.
Not as much fat now either to keep warm so have been trying to use Claude as a hot water bottle which doesn't grab him much as he keeps running away whenever he sees me coming.
Result is I've been sitting around on my hands a lot and not typing much.
Will leave it all in God's hands.
>^..^<
As far as writing 'gems' (thanks, sweetie) I think it's apparent that really... I have no life. I'm basically bone-idle, you know. What might appear to be written on the spur of the moment actually takes me months of pre-planning before it's ever offered forth for human consumption. You have no idea how many mornings I waited, hidden behind the dumpster, trying to toss that hose in front of Tony at the exact instant that he jogged by. (If he wasn't so damned tall, we'd have been having this contest a month earlier... but with a nine-and-a-half foot stride, there was incredible finesse (to say nothing about algebra and geometry)involved in determining where, exactly, his mammoth sneaker would hit pavement, and snagging it at that perfect, earth-trembling second.)
So, thanks. But these things aren't nearly as spontaneous as they appear. It's simply that I'm bone-idle and I have no life...
:o)
xoxo
Kazza