I Am not Btfsplk ... By Helen Henderson

Windmaster  by Helen Henderson
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Conflict is an author’s stock in trade. Our job is to throw roadblocks into their characters’ lives. A number of years ago there was a syndicated comic strip called Li'l Abner. Among the character were Li'l Abner and Daisy Mae. To picture Daisy Mae, picture a peasant shirt and cut-off denim shorts. For a more contemporary example of the costume, think Daisy Duke from the Dukes of Hazard television series. Another character in Li'l Abner was a small (read short) raggedy figure. The world's worst jinx, Joe Btfsplk had a perpetually dark rain cloud over his head. Misfortune followed him around enough that people would say "if he didn't have bad luck, he would have no luck at all." Not only did the jink apply to Btfsplk, instantaneous bad luck befell anyone in his vicinity.

For many years the standing joke among those who knew me was that the character Btfsplk was based on me. Among the reasons were the successful job interview that resulted in an offer. Only to be rescinded when the company closed the day before I was supposed to start. Or the time I went to work on a happy note expecting to celebrate my birthday with a weekend away, not being able to login to my terminal did not set of any alarm bells. Two of the computer guys liked to lock people out of the computer system just to see how long it took us to hack our way back in. I had already read the pair the riot act and they knew better than to mess with me. All they said when I braced them was to see the company president. Instead of the fun I expected later that day, I was home by noon. Everyone was being laid off as they reported in.

The cloud hanging over my head struck again when I tried riding our pony bareback and fell off. No soft landing for me. I landed on the only rock in the plowed field.

Maybe it was the story reacting to my black cloud that set the tone for Lord Dal's first trip aboard Sea Falcon. Neither officer nor crew had ever encountered the unusual weather they found themselves in. A thick curtain of gray covered the area from white-capped waves to the banner that hung limp from the center mast. Only when the ship crested an especially high swell did the sailor posted to the crow’s nest get a glimpse of the star-studded sky above the haze. For three days and three nights, an unearthly fog kept the Sea Falcon trapped in an endless sea of muted sounds. The miasma absorbed Dal’s magic and resisted his repeated attempts to disperse it. The strange fog also scrambled the magnetic compass, making navigation impossible. No matter to which heading Ellspeth steered Sea Falcon, the haze clung to it.

The final blast of bad luck? The sound of wooden hull scraping against wooden hull. Pirates!

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

 ~Until next month, stay safe and read.   Helen

Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky who have adopted her as one the pack. Find out more about her and her novels on her BWL author page.