The Princess and Sir Jonathan d'Klutz is a comic novella of 27,000 words (third-person point of view). The tale begins in the medieval world, in the Kingdom of Quandarica, whose monarch is King Geoffrey the Grouch. The chapter, “The Loveliest Flower in the Kingdom,” focuses on the love of Esmeralda for a poor knight named Sir Jonathan d’Klutz, whom her father despises. “The Wise King of Quandarica” shows the hard-headed king not wanting to be given advice by Lord Rhett Snapper d’Godolphin, who could lose his head if the King wasn’t afraid of Princess Ethel the Ready But Remember She’s the King’s Daughter (who admires his puppy-dog dedication and cute butt). In “A Clumsy Quest for Courage,” Sir Jonathan tries to perform brave deeds to impress the King and court, but he only ends up getting killed in a pasture by Sir Bull. When a heart-broken Esmeralda throws herself on his body, alas, Sir Bull does her in too. “Strange Entrances and Horrible Exits” describes how the souls/spirits of the princess and the knight go into objects and other individuals over the centuries. Their spirits, although far apart, transmigrate from Quandarica and Smeltertown into the New World, where they almost get together in the 1800s. “In New York City, 1915” has them apart, but in the same city, although Esmeralda has wound up in a pot-bellied stove. The stove, along with four Talking Mugs, ends up in a shack at a junkyard run by Johnny and his assistant Harry Kras-mas-mongle-tinkle-coft-coft-gesundheit (a.k.a. Harry the Helper). Johnny can’t hear the princess nor Fred, Ted, Ned, and Ed, the mugs. “When the Boss is Away” tells about Johnny’s absence while being sequestered on jury duty at Quandarica Arms Hotel. Unfortunately, Harry the Helper tries to move an annoying bulldozer that is left running next to the shack where he was sleeping. He accidently backs into the shack, cracking Esmeralda. He slips back inside the shack and denies knowing who moved the bulldozer, but he’s distressed at what happened to the stove. The workers take away the cracked stove and replace it with a similar one from a brownstone they were renovating. Upon Johnny’s return from jury duty, he eventually realizes that the shack is empty without the real Esmeralda stove. They discover the stove was taken to Pot and Pan-American Steel, where it would be melted down. In “The Gate to Eternal Happiness,” an unexpected union of sorts occurs.
Genre: FICTION / Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & MythologyJust out. Sold at book festivals and book signings.
Everyone in the Royal Town of Hogmoor-on-the-Grunting knew that it was an important day, but, as usual, they didn’t notice the overpowering grayness of their capital. The ashen stones of the Great Castle merged with the gray walls of the adjacent Great Cathedral. Even the people seemed to be gray as they milled about in their untinted woolen and flaxen clothes. After several washes, each garment matched everything in their small city.
Yet, despite the grays, the beiges, and the taupes, young poets in the town would write in their journals that all hearts and spirits sparkled with the crimson excitement, the yellow of future sunshines, and the oranges, reds, and greens of wondrous expectation. On paper, they imagined bluebirds and redbirds chirping madly, even though the town was only visited by crows, ravens, and sparrows. Above the drab castle and cathedral, the gray sky cleared as the morning wore on, and an azure heaven cheered everyone because, after all, it was an important day.
On this day, children whispered to each other, “Mag the Hag with the Sagging Bags will be coming to town.”
“Mag’s on her way!”
“She’ll make her way to the spikes on the parapets near the Great Castle’s Execution Grounds.”
“What does she carry in her burlap bags?”
The boys and girls could hide behind bushes and spy on her as she reached into a bag and gave a mysterious potion to the famous Talking Heads of Hogmoor-on-the-Grunting. The one named Fred sported a magnificent moustache that rivaled any pirate’s. Underneath his two-farthing hairpiece, the one called Ed was as bald as a liar’s face. A third was Ned, the grandson of a Nigerian blackamoor who fretted about a chronic skin problem on his forehead. The fourth, called Ted, gloried in his curly red beard and gold earring.
