Tales From Trapper the Cyber Snoop
Issue 2
January 2, 2018
The Tails Begin
As I promised in
Issue 1, in this issue I will reveal, why my human, the Author Richard Nurse,
(aka. The Boss) and I have been so silent for most of this year. Allow me to
set the record straight; while The Boss made the majority of the decisions, I
probably made the worst decision of all of us.
Consider that a tease, because I am not going to talk about that today.
The first two
decisions The Boss made during the year both produced mixed results. Number one
was to take a creative writing class. The course was not what he was looking
for, and to make matters even worse he and the instructor, had greatly
different styles, and methods. By the
end of the course, The Boss’s creative flame was not burning as bright as it
had been when he began the class. The
second decision was to have some outside editing done on two different works.
The first was a Beta Read of the fifth book in the Jasper, Street-Fighter, and
Me series, Yeah, the one that my dad is one of the stars in. The second was a
total editing of an existing story, that he had rewritten, to address some
issues.
The Beta read was
excellent and very insightful. The only problem being that the reader had not
read any of the preceding four books in the series, so that many questions were
asked that a reader of the series would have already known. That was not the case with the editing of the
existing story. The editor was way
behind schedule, and was making so many changes, that it seemed at least to The
Boss, that it was no longer his story.
Then when the editor requested the balance of the funds be paid, prior
to the completion of the work, the relationship dissolved, and I know it left a
bad taste in both parties’ mouths. The
creative flame, which was already somewhat dim, began to flicker. While it
didn’t go out it did pick a new area to focus on. One that was both mental and
physical.
The Boss, with me at
his side, left the office on the second floor, and descended down into the
basement to his wood shop, which was in a shambles. I hadn’t seen him in other
than to check on the sump pump during a storm or if he was looking for one of
us cute four legged members of the household. He began to clean the shop, but
as I watched, he changed from throwing things away, to making things out of
piles of scrap lumber in the shop. He
made me a bed, and then made a sign for the box declaring me the Editor in
Chief. Actually, he ended up making two, for TomTom snitched the original one
he made for me, since we both spent most of our time with him when he was in
the office.
That wasn’t the only
things that he made out of the scraps of wood in the basement. Out of nowhere,
he created four little wagons, with working wheels and a primitive wagon hitch
bar. They were just the right size to hold his books, and he used them to sell
his books at shows. It took almost two months for us to clean the basement,
because he also finished every unfinished project he came across, and then
began the big project; He stripped all of the old tiles off the painted floor,
and then scrapper the floor clean, and painted it with both primer and then
cement paint. He kept telling me, that everything he was doing was geared
toward selling the house somewhere in the future.
I didn’t know what in
the future meant, or how close the future was to becoming now, but The Boss was
happy, as was the ‘The Boss’s’ Boss. Therefore, I was happy, just to be a part
of the family, and sort of The Boss’s special cat.