"Simon Hawke - Sorcerer 2 - The Inadequate Adept" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

THE INADEQUATE ADEPT
Copyright ┬й 1993 by Simon Hawke
e-book ver. 1.0




For Leanne Christine Harper,
with special thanks to Pat McGiveney, Darla Dunn, Doug and Tomi Lewis of The Little Bookshop of
Horrors in Arvada, Co., Joe DeRose and the staff of Muddy's Cafe in Denver, Co., H. Trask Emery,
David Marringly, Brian Thomsen, Mauro DiPreta, Fred Cleaver, Chris Zinck, the Mad Scientists Club of
Denver and all the understanding friends who supported me during this madness. You all know who you
are, and some of you have asked not to be identified. It's okay, I understand.



CHAPTER ONE



Once upon a time...

No. Let's try that again.

Long, long ago, in a universe far, far away...

Nah, that doesn't work, either.

Oh, hell, you think it's easy being the narrator? You try it. Only don't send your manuscripts to me,
whatever you do. I've got enough problems of my own. Such as trying to figure out how to begin this
book, for instance.

Let's see now, according to conventional wisdom, you're supposed to begin a story with a narrative
hook. What's a narrative hook, you ask? It's a slam-bang opening sentence that's so compelling, it
"hooks" your interest right away and makes it damn near impossible not to read on further. Well... I guess
I've already blown that.

On the other hand, another tried-and-true technique is to get into the action right away, just plunge the
reader headfirst into the story with the speed of an express train and never let up for an instant. Hmmm...
too late for that, I suppose.

Well, there's always the classic approach used by all those literary authors. You know, Dickens and that
whole crowd. First, you set the scene with lots of colorful, evocative, descriptive writing, then you
gradually introduce the main characters as you develop the plot, but then that's a rather dated approach
and modern readers aren't really all that patient with-

"Get on with it," said Warrick.

What?
"I said, get on with it," Warrick Morgannan repeated, looking up toward the ceiling as he sat behind his