April Fools?

 

I woke up at about 6 am this morning because my kids wanted to celebrate April Fool's Day, starting with setting off alarms on all of the phones/alarm clocks they could find. I dismantled a tripwire on the way to the bathroom and stepped over a Lego minefield. Then I told them a story I've heard at church about two boys who found shoes in a field. One wanted to pull a prank and hide the shoes, but the other instead hid some money in each shoe. Then they hid and watched. Their would-be victim was just as shocked. He looked all around but missed the two boys. Then he dropped to his knees and said a prayer of gratitude for money that his family badly needed, and the boys left feeling better about themselves. You know what would be even more shocking than being sprayed by the sink sprayer? Finding all of the dishes done. So, this is a challenge to find a "positive prank" to pull on someone today.  I suppose I should make this relevant to books, since that's what you've signed up for with this newsletter. In both stories I'm writing right now, I've enjoyed making the children age-appropriate. In The Centaur Chase on kindle vella, a centaur foal (2 and a half in human years), plays clapping games and accidentally knocks people over. In the next Spectra Crowns Tale (on vella and amazon), the 10 and 11-year-old boys are very closely based on my boys. I'll include a sneak peek of those shenanigans below.

Sneak Peek of THE SEVEN SIMONS:

A large brown shape hurtled through the air toward them. Simon leapt back. The shape landed in the pond in an explosion of water. Simon yelped as the cold shot through him. He wiped pond water from his eyes and tried to figure out what had just happened.  An enormous, full grown bosent sat in the middle of the pond, cow-like, but bigger and shaggier.  A pair of dark-haired boys, perhaps ten years old, pushed through the brush. Their gleaming white grins stood out on their tanned faces. “I had everything under control,” the taller one said.   “Bosent launcher, success!” the smaller cheered.  “A bosent launcher?” Simon repeated faintly.  A third child came out of the woods. She was older than the other two, perhaps fourteen, with long glossy black hair. “Did we make it? I thought my aim was a little...” She caught sight of Simon, squeaked, and ducked behind the nearest tree.  “You always make it!” one of the boys answered, as though she hadn’t just hidden. “Good shot, Larina!”  Robin, Simon's escort, grinned. “Meet my siblings, the youngest three Sages. Larina has perfect aim, Bracken fashions things from wood—like bosent launchers, apparently—and Finn controls water.”  “We’re not twins,” Finn said. Though he stood knee-deep in the pond, his cotton clothing was completely dry. “Everyone thinks we’re twins, but I’m seven seasons older.”  “Are they always this...” Simon gestured.  Robin nodded “They are always this.”