So there sat tiny badger on the edge of the laptop, tapping his tiny badger paw on his tiny badger chin, his tiny badger legs crossed, and his tiny badger nose twitching. What, he wondered out loud was he to do about all those distractions keeping you from writing your novel? Sure, the ankle nips worked wonders for a few, but still, too many would-be novelists were wasting precious writing time with online nonsense. “It has to stop!” he bellowed in his tiny voice.
This sort of thing gets tiny badger all fired up. He leapt to his feet and stomped his good foot (The left foot got snagged in a disc drive a few weeks back. Whatever you do, don’t mention the limp). “Oh,” he lamented, “if only I could be infinitesimal badger! I’d crawl though those computer wires and chew out your YouTube, your MySpace, your Facebook, your Solitaire, your Second Life, your whatever-you-don’t-admit-to, and then, and then!” He laughed maniacally, “You’d have to write because you’d have nothing else.”
Sadly, I pointed out that there were plenty of non online distractions–children, spouses, lovers, imaginary lovers, work, chores, hang nails. The list is long.
“NO!” Tiny badger ran to the edge of the desk and stared out over his domain. He stood tall, er, tiny, and proud, and he announced that the time had come. He had to take serious action before it was too late. He would become, (dum-de-de-dum-dum!) Super Tiny Badger. That’s right. Soon, soon, he warned, he would have his tiny badger cape and he would fly, fly, fly to all his badgerees and he would bite their ankles like they’ve never been bitten before. He would gnaw on ears while they slept. He would know no bounds!
Oh! He even whispered to me his ultimate plan…
He would lower the brightness of your computer screen to set the mood. Tiny badger would find the most provocative page you’ve written so far, and he would drape those words around himself, just so, and sprawl seductively across your laptop. You will not be able to refuse! You will coo and ah over him and then he’ll have you! And he will demand that you get on your knees (or in your chair) and you will write him a scene. A thrilling scene! A scene to make his hair stand on in. Yes! Who are you to refuse him?
Go! Write that scene that will leave him breathless and asking for more. “More words! More story! Please!” he will shout, clutching his tiny badger heart. “Don’t leave me this way!”
But you are smart, of course. You will not reveal everything in one go. You will leave tiny badger hanging from that wild, unpredictable, what-happens-next cliff, where he will be blissed out and unable to nip. And you’ll want to do it all over again.