Sunday, July 11, 2010

Dammit Dolls Expressing Themselves

Micah Doll knew he was a different sort of dolly from the beginning, but he was unaware of his place in the world until he attended the Gay Pride Parade in Washington last month. He was so enthralled with finding others coming out of the doll closet at the Miss Gay Universe pageant--next thing Micah new, he was headed for Las Vegas, where he was certain he would discover hidden talents he hadn't known he possessed.

Friends and theatrical talents Phil & Jim met him at the airport and whisked him to their condo, where they gave him a crash course, training him unmercifully in voice, dance, and stage makeup. When he was ready, they drove him to the Belagio to audition for a chorus line. The powers that be were so impressed that they signed Micah for a feature act to do in drag, where he performed Cindi Lauper tunes as the exotic Mimosa.

Mimosa's troubles started after the first show. Mimosa took off her makeup and headed home. So giddy with the applause and her ability to sing before hundreds of people, she forgot Vegas politics and horned in on a photo shoot between two celebrities. Nic was okay with the intrusion, but Michael's agent, Angelo, took offense, and Mimosa was once again Micah, this time running for his life from intrepid Italian entrepreneurs.

Then he spied it--luggage that wasn't fully zipped. Micah weazled his way into the frayed, red suitcase, where he found a plethora of male/male romance novels to read until he landed. Where? He had no idea. He rifled through the worn clothing, loose tickets and trinkets, keepsakes, and jewelry. Ah! A small flashlight. Then he saw the papers he needed. He'd hitched a ride with m/m authors Carol Lynne and Cash Cole, on their way home from a writers' conference. Perhaps they could help him until he got back on his cotton feet.

Cash Cole, like Mimosa, however, was merely a pseudonym, a persona to be donned now and then. Once they landed in Kansas City, Cash morphed back to her old self, an embittered writer named Bobbie Cole. And Bobbie was upset that she'd be missing the upcoming Romance Writers of America conference in Orlando. Recognizing a Dammit Doll when she saw one, Bobbie grabbed poor Micah by his legs and pounded the nearest table as soon as she arrived home. Yelling dammit, dammit, dammit, she whacked until Micah thought his stuffing would pop out.

It's a metaphor! he tried telling her. Surely, an author would know what that meant. But she was relentless. frustrated.

It was then that Micah decided he'd look for others of his ilk at this RWA conference. When Bobbie finally relaxed her grip on him and took a nap, Micah jumped onto the internet and found the links he needed. The dolls were gathering, alright, at the writers' conference. They were to gather on Thursday night at the RWA Moonlight Madness jamboree on July 29th.

He studied their origination at http://www.mararwa.com/Authors/dammitdoll.html
then made his own reservations for the conference. Maybe he'd arrive early, but it'd give him time to check out nightclubs and find work. He had to support himself, after all. And this time he wouldn't be so eager to climb into the spotlight with other celebrities. He'd be his own doll.

Micah scanned the web page. The next doll's story would be up soon at Heather Snow's home on the web. Maybe she'd be kinder to the doll she encountered. She was, after all, an historical romance writer. Weren't those people more sophisticated, less rough? He hoped so. Making a note of Heather's web address, http://www.heathersnowbooks.blogspot.com/, Micah closed out of Bobbie's computer and packed for his next adventure.

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2 Comments:

At 8:13 PM, Blogger Gretchen said...

DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!

 
At 12:22 PM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

I hope the dolls do well in Orlando - they're soooo cute, and the group came up with some really good prose to go with them.

 

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