Myth-Told Tales

—Jody Ly

The "Discreet Blackout"

It was interesting to read Jody's introduction. (Writer's tip: If you're doing one section of a two-part introduction, always let your partner go first. Then, all you have to do is rebut or go, "Yea. What she said.") The only trouble was, it was hard to recognize myself in it Okay. I know these intros are supposed to be "love and kisses and how much fun it is to write together," but there should be a limit I'd say my application for sainthood was rejected, but I never bothered to send it in. For one thing, I assume the powers that be have better things to do with their time than read crank mail. For another, I'm used to getting paid for writing fantasy.

Just because I have good ma

One thing I've discovered over the years is that the longer you write humor, the more finely tuned you become in your opinions of what is fu

What this all boils down to is that when it comes to collaborating, particularly on humor, I can be a real pain in the ass to work with. I like to think that I stop short of bullying my writing partners, but (even by the most generous interpretation of events) I can be "extremely stubborn" when "discussing" a particular joke or scene. When it involves two of my most popular characters, specifically Aahz and Skeeve, it borders on being nightmarish. I mention this not so much to belittle myself as to raise the awareness and appreciation of the readers to what my writing partners actually have to go through.

All that having been said, it really is a joy and a pleasure to work with Jody ... even if our memories of certain events and conversations differ.

As an example, while I recall her visiting with Ly

Another interesting overlap was when I discovered that we both had a background in theater. As an aside, I have often compared writing, particularly writing humor, with doing radio theater where you don't have the audience's feedback reactions to work off. I maintain that the most successful humor writers first honed their skills wot king in front of a live audience to build their sense of comic liming before attempting to create humor on paper. While my supporting role as Marcellus Washburn in a production of The Musk: Man lags far behind her leading role as Winifred the Woebegone in Once Upon a Mattress, I think the mutual experience contributes greatly to our ability to work together.

Anyhoo, Butch and Fluffykins are now playing together happily, and the occasional territorial growls and swats only occur when there are no witnesses to box both our ears. Jody is not only an extremely talented writer whose company is always a pleasure, she's also spirited enough to hold her own in a brawl. While, perhaps, not absolutely necessary, all three are definitely desirable in a writing partner.

—Robert Ly

MYTH CONGENIALITY

By Robert Asprin and Jody Ly

I answered the door of the i

"Yeah?" I asked the two small children who looked up at the one-eyed, white-haired rogue with five teeth, tangled hair, bizarrely twisted features, and visible insects crawling in and out of his clothes. They didn't retreat a pace.

"Is the haunted house open?" the older one asked. "Yeah!" the little one said, staring at me with open curiosity. "We wa

"Yeah! Draggins and wivverns and yuni-corns and creaky floors and stuff! We heard about it in town."

"No," I said. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my pet dragon Gleep charging for the door. He loved to answer the door. I put a foot into his chest to keep him from sticking his nose around the edge. "No monsters here." Now Buttercup wanted to know what was going on, and you can't deter a war unicorn as easily as you can a baby dragon who'd impressed upon you. "Nope. Just a law-abiding, boring old guy living quietly by himself." I could see them starting to become afraid now. I smiled wistfully. They started to back away nervously. "Just a lonely old man who'd love to have company to while away the hours. Sorry." I slammed the door shut on them just before Buttercup put his muzzle under my arm.

"Stop it, you guys," I protested, being nuzzled by a dragon on one side and snuffled by a unicorn on the other. Gleep and Buttercup looked hurt. "I keep telling you to stay out of sight Now the townspeople have seen you. Can you believe it? A haunted house! And they want to come in. I wish Bu

Bu

I let the disguise spell drop. I always had to use one when I opened the door. Nobody in Klahd would be impressed or frightened by my normal appearance. I was young, for one thing, tall but thin, with a thatch of blond hair, and I'd been told that my blue eyes reminded them of Gleep's. When I looked in a mirror I couldn't see the same i

"Come on, you guys. Let's have lunch."

I wasn't much of a cook, being used to leaning out the door of our tent at the Bazaar on Deva and being in reach of every kind of cuisine from every dimension, some delicious and toothsome, some more frightening to smell or look at than any disguise I'd ever put on. My cooking was somewhere in between, but Gleep ate everything, and Buttercup was always content with his fodder.

The kitchen, as befit one in a building constructed to serve a houseful of guests, was enormous. I kept a small fire going in one of the baking ovens instead of the huge ingle that comprised a whole wall shared with the rest of the i

I dished up stew that had been bubbling away in a closed pot among the embers of the fire. One generous portion for me, five for Gleep. (He also caught his own meals from among the rodents in the barn, but I didn't want to know about that.) It hadn't burned, for which I was grateful, since we were short on supplies. Going into town to shop always elicited curiosity from the merchants and townsfolk as to who I was, where I came from, and what was going on in the old i