A Madman, a Good Man, a Hero, a Villain

“Was he a good man who just went mad in the end?” Jor asked.

Wren considered. “He was a man,” she said slowly, “who’d been going mad for a very long time. He first went mad enough to be an assassin, and then he went mad enough to be a hero, and then he went mad enough to be a villain.”

Cry of the Nightbird

a fantasy novella by Tirzah Duncan,

available now.

Nightbird cover, final


Selflessness is for Fools

Sometimes I contemplate whether I’d do best to wring my evil pigeon’s neck.

As a villainess, lives are cheap. Caring about other’s lives… that’s where you run up expenses.

My Other Self is currently angsting over somebody else’s concerns. While that somebody (from what I gather) is off having a tea party with friends, my other self suffers stress and agitation, her precious time slipping by with little but ineffectual hand-wringing to show for it. Never mind that she’s got her own business to tend to, her own back to watch. Forget about simply forgetting about it and looking to her own gain or pleasure. Nope. There goes the morning, and who knows how much of the afternoon, on top of the hours prior to falling into a sleep filled with anxiety-ridden dreams last night. All for someone to whom she owes nothing.

Other Self, you are an idiot. If other people can’t be bothered to take care of themselves, what’s it to you? If they fall, there’s that many fewer people I’ll have to exterminate or exile during my evil reign. For the hate of all, it’s not like this person is your conjoined twin, or even one of the precious characters you carry in your head and heart. Their pain should not touch you — and that goes double for pain they don’t even have the sense to feel!

Do yourself a favor. Look out for number one alone. That will give you more than enough to fret about.

As for my evil pigeon… I’ll let it live, for the time being. It’s not a friend who might someday become my weakness; it’s a possession. And if there’s one thing that puts me in a foul temper, it’s anyone (even me) messing up my stuff.

Take Note: A Lesson in Evil

While my sister makes no claim of super-villainy, it’s been made potently clear time and again that she’s got the knack for it — both the cunning mind, and an instinct for evil that you just can’t teach. Lest I begin to underestimate the depths of her depravity and her intimate knowledge of my weaknesses, she hand-delivered this note to me yesterday as a harsh reminder:

Evil Note

Let’s take a moment to admire the artistry, shall we?

“Dear Danielle¬†(Comma. Where is the comma? The villainy begins early.)¬†I know your use¬†(*twitch* A possessive “your” where the contraction “you’re” should be. And it’s “used”, darn it, “useD”!) to looking at pourly wrote sentences (“Pourly wrote”?! Ooooh, she is diabolical!) (And where is the comma?!) but I know they still bothers you (*sob*) so I wrote you this note because I think its (Apostrophe) funny too (NO) be mean to you and its (APOSTROPHE) funny (What, no end punctuation? But at this point, why should we expect any better?)

Love (True love uses commas!!!) Dianne”

Villainously played, sister. Villainously played.