Posted in Absurdity, Humor, Mystery, Short Stories, Uncategorized

Death by Peanut Butter – a short story (finally!!!)

I wrote this short story for school, based on the writings of Canadian humorist Stephen Leacock.  Leacock wrote a hilarious piece outlining the essential cliches of 19th-20th century serialized detective fiction.  It’s available online under the name “The Great Detective.”  (An even funnier version of the discourse exists under the name “Frenzied Fiction,” which I found in my grandpa’s well-worn copy of Leacock’s Laugh Parade.)  The punchline of my story is that, once again, the butler has “done it.”  This time, however, he has done it is to himself.

On the subject of Canada, I’d also like to thank my aunt for bringing three huge jars of Canadian peanut butter when she visited the week I received this assignment, as they served as my inspiration to write this. 😀


The Great Detective and I were sitting down to a hearty breakfast when we heard the frenetic pattering of footsteps in the stairwell.

“A visitor, I presume,” my ingenious flatmate remarked as he spread a generous amount of peanut butter on his crumpet.  “It must be – and surely, he must be distressed, for the way he mounts our staircase is uneven and heavy.  Either that, or he is a drunken lout who has read too many of your stories, seeking my autograph.”

“Perhaps,” said I, fondly recalling the last case I’d dutifully chronicled for The Brand.  (You ought to read it after this one!) Continue reading “Death by Peanut Butter – a short story (finally!!!)”

Posted in Absurdity, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Humor, Science Fiction, Short Stories

“Jenny” – a Flash Fiction

Happy New Year, everyone!  (As usual, I’m a bit late in wishing people things.)  Let me tell you, I’ve always wanted to write a Doctor Who fanfiction about Jenny (the Doctor’s daughter) and a certain hit song by Tommy Tutone.  Well, here’s a little something I wrote in literally three minutes.  (This one’s for the Figgies in the TARDIS. 😉 )

 “I don’t know, you guys,” said Grace uncertainly as Cece and Emii reached for the TARDIS’ telephone.

 “Oh, come on, Grace,” Emii chided.  “Haven’t you ever wanted to know who’s at that number?”

 Cece and Emii sang out the numbers as they dialed, which only made Grace roll her eyes.  “Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-niiiine!

 The two mischief-makers waited anxiously for the call to complete as dialed.  Finally, somebody picked up.

 “Hello, Dad!”  a cheery voice that sounded like a cross between Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson sang out from the other side.  “I thought I recognized your number on the caller ID!  What a pleasant surprise.  I thought you’d never call!”

 Cece nearly dropped the phone.  Emmi caught it and pressed the receiver to her ear.

 “Hello?”  the cheery voice persisted.  “Anybody there?  Oh, I know, you must be breathless from all the running you do with that Donna woman.  I’ll just wait for you, ‘kay?”

 Cece cleared her throat.  “Er, sorry … wrong number,” she stammered hurriedly.  Then, she hung up.

 Grace eyed the two younger girls curiously.  “Well, that was odd.”

Posted in Absurdity, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Humor, Miscelaneous Musings, Science Fiction, Short Stories, The Writing Life

Greetings from Camp NaNoWriMo + Short Story

Hello Mother, hello Father….  (If anyone knows what I’m referencing and you’re under fifty, you’re officially cool in my book.)

I’m a camper at the idyllic, online retreat writers know to be Camp NaNoWriMo (not Granada), where people who can’t make the November event or just want an additional similar challenge over the summer can write and have fun!

My project is to write 10,000 words’ worth of short stories over the month of July.  My goal is to write about a thousand words per day, give or take, and since this isn’t for a school project, I’m sure the words will flow like endless rain into a paper cup.  (If John Lennon wrote books, I can only imagine what other artful, odd metaphors he might use.)

Plus, the handy-dandy word count recorder thingie on the Camp NaNo site predicts that I’ll need to write a minimum of 250 words per day to meet my ultimate writing goal, so my personal per-day goal cuts me plenty of slack.  I can take generous breaks if I need, but let’s hope that won’t happen too often.

Today, I finished one of the short stories I was writing for my project.  I don’t have a title for it, but it’s basically a discombobulated prequel to the first Figgies in the TARDIS story.  It presents some odd theories as to where the FITT cast comes from, some awkward moments between Time Lord and companion, and some vague references to a certain time-traveling uncle.

That said, enjoy my on-the-fly handiwork!  (Seriously, my other writings go through minimal editing before I share them with anyone; this is an exception.)


 The Doctor lounged on an inflatable … well … lounge chair in the middle of the TARDIS’ swimming pool, engrossed in his favorite Agatha Christie novel, a facsimile edition from the far, far future, long after Jack Harkness, ideally, should have died, of Death in the Clouds.  There were benefits, as it were, to having a swimming pool in the library.

Continue reading “Greetings from Camp NaNoWriMo + Short Story”

Posted in Absurdity, Miscelaneous Musings, The Writing Life

Editing Objectively – How, Preciousssss?

I’ve got a nassssssty, Gollum-like little inner critic when it comes to writing.  Now that I’ve finished the preliminary writing of my novelette, I’m trying to make edits and smooth out all of the rough spots before I send it to a publish– I mean, self-publish it.

Y’see, since I’m not publishing this thing with a professional publisher, I don’t have the benefit of an outside editor.  I could hire someone, or I could go harass random Figment users I don’t even know to leave ego-stroking but otherwise pointless “reviews” on my story, or I could spend my Young Writers’ Society points on posting the whole thing and maybe getting some feedback.  But I don’t know if I can afford an editor; I wouldn’t post my whole story on Figment to be graffiti’ed and defaced for a million bucks (which I could use to hire an editor…); and I don’t think I have enough YWS points. 😛

So yeah, I’m going with DIY-editing for now.

Continue reading “Editing Objectively – How, Preciousssss?”

Posted in Absurdity, Adventure, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Humor, Novels, Satire, Science Fiction, Written Works

Figgies Take the TARDIS

An unfinished work featuring the Figgies, the Third Doctor, the Brigadier, and Sarah Jane.

Figgies Take the TARDIS

(by Allison Rose)

Chapter One

“Where’s the Doctor?”  Cece Ryder asked incredulously, looking around the TARDIS control room uncertainly.  That tweed-wearing, flippy-haired, bowtie-adoring Time Lord whom she’d been accompanying for the last few months was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t know,” Emii Wells replied.  “He hadn’t mentioned anything about going anywhere yesterday.”

Skye Falconer eyed the dashboard mischievously.  “Do you suppose he’s hiding in there?”  She was dying to crack it open and see what was hiding inside.

“Yeah!”  Tyler Jonesmith agreed, reading her thoughts almost exactly.  “I’m dying to crack it open and see what’s hiding inside!”

Emii, and Cece shook their heads vehemently.  The last time someone had tried to do that, the results had been disastrous.  Or so the Doctor in question claimed.

“Look,” Hannah suggested diplomatically, “I’m pretty sure he just went out shopping with the rest of the gang.”

It did seem plausible; Grace, Scarlett, Emory, Hailey, Athena, and Claire had all gone out to the mall to hang out, buy nail polish and do other girly things (although Scarlett had probably gone to the hardware store instead).  Jack was meeting some friends of his, too.  Rhiannon, his daughter, was visiting Gwen Cooper and her family in Wales.  And the Doctor, as noted, wasn’t around for whatever reason, so, in conclusion, they were all alone in the TARDIS. Continue reading Figgies Take the TARDIS

Posted in Absurdity, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Humor, Science Fiction, Short Stories, Written Works

Revised: “The Little Doctor”

Please note that this is a semi-revised version of my Doctor Who fanfic. The Doctor here is now nine thousand years old, as opposed to nine hundred (which would be canonically incorrect). This cuts me plenty of slack between when Matt Smith became Peter Capaldi and when the Doctor eventually regenerates into this young man portrayed here. (I’m confidant that Mr. Moffat will figure out a way for the Doctor to have infinite regenerations at some point in the future.)

Usually, after I regenerate, I tend to act all mad and silly, but this time, I bawled my eyes out like a little kid.

Really, a few factors contributed to this. For starters, the TARDIS seemed so much bigger than I remembered it to be. The ceiling looked taller and scarier, as though it might snatch me up off my feet if I looked up at its centre.

Also, when I started to walk, my trousers were way too long for me, so I tripped and fell and scraped my knee. That was what really did me in. Continue reading “Revised: “The Little Doctor””

Posted in Absurdity, Fanfiction, Flash Fiction, Humor, Lord of the Rings, Short Stories, Written Works


The title is pretty self-explanatory.


(by Allison Rose)

Pippin stared out over the edge of the building and gulped audibly.  You can do it, Pip!  he could hear his best friend, Merry Brandybuck, whispering encouragingly in his head.  But he could also hear Gandalf saying, You’re a fool, Peregrine Took, which didn’t really help matters much.

The New York City skyline looked like he could reach out and touch it, but alas, it was just an optical illusion.  One unprepared step over the edge meant certain death — to any ordinary hobbit, that is.  On that day he’d wandered into the zoo and picked open that cage with the pretty blue spider, Pippin’s life had changed forever.

Forcing down his fears, Pippin held out his hands and let the filmy white thread zap out and grasp the top of a distant skyscraper tautly.  It was strong enough to hold any man’s weight, which meant Pippin was all set and ready to go!


Down below, a crowd of people gathered in the city streets to watch the spectacle going on above their heads: a little man in a bright red and blue costume glided through the air, holding tightly onto strong white cords that seemed to right out of his wrists.  Could it be?  Could it really be–

“SPIDERMAN!!!”  a girl shrieked, right as the unidentified high-flyer in question soared only inches above her head.

“No, no, I’m not,” a distinctly Tookish accented voice replied from beneath the expressionless mask.  “I’m Spiderhobbit!

As if to prove his point, Spiderhobbit overestimated his leap and flew straight into the side of a building.  The last thing Peregrin Took remembered before the blackness overcame him was a large, bearded man on horseback charging down the street, irritably calling out his name, and some nerdy guy with big glasses standing over him, chuckling.