Saturday, May 21, 2016

Guest Post: Andrew Joyce (Resolution: Huck Finn's Greatest Adventure)

My name is Andrew Joyce and I write books for a living. Shell and Kailei been kind enough to allow me a little space on their blog to promote my latest book RESOLUTION: Huck Finn’s Greatest Adventure. I think it’s good, but what do I know? Anyway, I’m kinda shy about tooting my own horn. So I think I’ll turn things over to my dog Danny and let him toot it for me. He always has an attitude and usually does not speak highly of me. But please understand that we co-exist as the old Soviet Union and the United States once co-existed. We tolerate each other. So without further ado, here’s Danny the Dog.

Good morning. I’m Danny the Dog, teller of tales, bon vivant, all-around good dog, and lover of hotdogs. Andrew took me away from my very busy life to help him out here. For a person that works with words for a living, he has very little to say in real life. He wants me to tout his book for him, but I don’t think I will. Instead, I think I’ll tell you about our latest adventure. We’re always having adventures, I like to write about them and what I write is 100% true.
What a time I had yesterday. I went to the beach!
I like to wake Andrew up early and take him for his walk before it gets too hot out. And I like our walks because there’s a whole lotta good sniffing out there. But yesterday it was Andrew that roused me from a sound sleep. I was dreaming of hotdogs. I was about to bite into a big, fat juicy hotdog when he shook me awake. I almost bit him.
Anyway, he told me we were going to the beach to watch the sun come up. When we walk, I lead the way, but when we go to the beach, Andrew drives the car because I don’t have a driver’s license. Can you believe it? Florida doesn’t give dogs driver licenses! I emailed the governor about this injustice, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. I know that not having thumbs might be problematic. How would I grip the steering wheel? But I figure I’ll worry about that after I get my license.
Sunrises, and sunsets for that matter, don’t do much for me; they have no scent. So what’s the big deal? But I allow Andrew to take me to the beach because I have my own agenda. I love to bark at other dogs. The beach we go to is secluded, and dogs are not allowed (another email I must send to the governor). However, dogs take their humans there in the early morning and as long as everyone is gone shortly after the sun comes up, there’s no trouble. And it’s a good thing for the human cops because if there was trouble I’d bite them.
So we get to the beach and Andrew sets up his folding beach chair. He’s such a wuss; can’t he just sit on the sand like everyone else? Me, he ties to a palm tree. Then he waits for the sun to come up. What does he think . . . it’s not going to come up unless he watching?
As I said, I have my own reasons for being there, so I start my nose a-twitching. I can smell another dog from a mile away. If I were a super hero, I’d be known as SUPER SNOOT. I would sniff out my nefarious nemeses and bring them to justice. I think I’d look cool with a cape. I look good in blue, so it would be blue with a big red “D” emblazoned right in the middle of it. Danny the Dog, mild-mannered dog by day, SUPER SNOOT by night! I like the sound of that.
I digress. Back to my story.
Andrew’s getting excited because the sun is coming up (what a surprise!). And I’m sniffing for dogs when all of a sudden I detect something good, as in chicken-bone good. So I put my super snoot to the ground and start my search. Of course, being SUPER SNOOT I find the bones right away. They were only a few inches under the sand. But before I take one of those delightful morsels into my mouth, I give Andrew a surreptitious glance to make sure he isn’t going to ruin my fun. I needn’t have worried. His attention was on a red ball coming up out of the ocean, turning the clouds a bright pink and orange; some clouds were still purple. So he was engaged. That’s when I bit into the first bone. CRUNCH! At the sound, Andrew turned and saw my find. I didn’t know the old guy could move that fast. He was out of his chair, and before I could do anything about it, he had my whole stash. At least I had half a bone in my mouth and he wasn’t going to get that.
The short of it is, I distracted Andrew from his precious sunrise. He took my bones, and I didn’t get to bark at a single dog. What a bust! On the ride home, I didn’t go over and lick his face as I usually do. I was mad at him and he was mad at me. But when we got home, all was forgiven and he gave me a hotdog. That’s why I keep him around.
My next adventure will be published in SUPER SNOOT Comics. Look for it at your local comic book store.
That’s about it from Dannyland for now. If I hurry, I might be able to get home in time to catch that Rin Tin Tin movie on TCM.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot—go out and buy Andrew’s
new book and make the old guy happy.

This is Andrew again. On behalf of Danny and myself, I would like to thank Shell and Kailei for having us over. It’s been a real pleasure.

It is 1896 in the Yukon Territory, Canada. The largest gold strike in the annals of human history has just been made; however, word of the discovery will not reach the outside world for another year. By happenstance, a fifty-nine-year-old Huck Finn and his lady friend, Molly Lee, are on hand, but they are not interested in gold. They have come to that neck of the woods seeking adventure. Someone should have warned them, “Be careful what you wish for.” When disaster strikes, they volunteer to save the day by making an arduous six hundred mile journey by dog sled in the depths of a Yukon winter. They race against time, nature, and man. With the temperature hovering around seventy degrees below zero, they must fight every day if they are to live to see the next. On the frozen trail, they are put upon by murderers, hungry wolves, and hostile Indians, but those adversaries have nothing over the weather. At seventy below, your spit freezes a foot from your face. Your cheeks burn—your skin turns purple and black as it dies from the cold. You are in constant danger of losing fingers and toes to frostbite. It is into this world that Huck and Molly race. They cannot stop. They cannot turn back. They can only go on. Lives hang in the balance—including theirs.

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