just minishorts.

Regarding the stories.

I have been told by several already that they have seen my stories before. Or they have seen ideas akin to what I have written. Or that I have been inspired by so and so, or so and so.

Obviously I am insulted.

I take pride in my writing, every writer takes pride in her writing. And being an editor at the same time, puts me in touch with copyright issues over and over again. How many of you out there actually know that you are only allowed to reproduce a maximum of 100 words from an author who has been dead for under 100 years? And even paraphrasing stories require copyright payments. When I started working as an editor, I spent weeks and days writing letters to apply for copyrighted material to be included in my press's publications.

Plagiarism is a condemned act in my book, and I have blogged about instances where I meet thick-skinned authors who plagiarize and blatantly deny it. I have cursed, and I have ranted about this many, many times.

Now. If you were so ignorant that you haven't learnt a thing in your reading escapades.

I write these stories out of interest, out of boredom. Currently at my work I am writing a series of short stories for the lower primary market, and high on my list are the famed fairy tales. Yes, I actually read fairy tales for a living, right now. Try being 25 and having to bear with Cinderella being shoved down your throat every single day for three weeks in a row.

The whole process was murderous.

That's why I started to skew the stories. That's how they come about.

Obviously I am not the first person to spoof the famed stories. There are published books, published poems, and spoofing is a very common joke that fools like to make out of themselves, in an effort to entertain. But I would like to inform you that yes, the spoofs are original, I did not copy them from anywhere. A huge bulk of the storyline was pre-discussed between my work-time chat buddy, Elaine, who pushed me the stories to be spoofed upon.

I've always made it clear that my intention here, in minishorts.net, is to entertain myself. I enjoy writing the stories. I posted them because I wanted to share them with you, now if you are entertained in the process, obviously I feel happy because I think I've done something good for both myself and you.

But to say that I have been plagiarising the work, or to even suggest, 'I'VE READ SOME OF THEM IN A BOOK BEFORE,' is a very rude thing to do.

That said, I have not imposed a copyright onto my works because I believe in free speech. Secondly, when I build BLOGGERS into the storyline, I believe that the stories are inevitably spared from being copied and reproduced, because obviously you've got to be at least in touch with these people who I plug out of my free will (and because I genuinely like these readers).

But, in a very civil voice, I would like to reiterate that I have not copied my stories, nor ideas from anywhere. To even suggest that I commited plagiary, is an insult that I will not take kindly to.

Where was I?

The other day I told you about being locked up in that stupid taller-than-a-coconut-tree tower. No, there wasn't any elevator either so Mother would climb my precious braids just to come up. After that she would spend the entire afternoon singing songs and brushing my hair (it usually takes about one hour, give and take, to give my hair a good brush down).

Day three of my imprisonment, and I began to hate Mother thoroughly. The boredom was overpowering, and sleeping alone at night was damn scary ok? High up in the tower, you can hear the swaying of the coconut trees and when the winds blow strongly, it really seems as if the entire tower was being surrounded by feisty ghouls.

So when Mark came calling from down below, he was my one and only saviour. My key to escaping from the tower. Mark claims he had heard of my beauty and long long hair a long time ago, and he decided to see if I was worth the climb. He came up, he told me he would take me away, but there wasn't a way down the idiotic tower. Though I hadn't an inkling how I was to climb down my own braids, it was quite easy to understand why I fell in love with the guy immediately.

We had our conversations in hushed whispers because I was scared that Mother had bewitched the coconut trees swaying around the tower.

'Cannot get down lah,' I was trying to tell Mark. 'See, there is no way whatsoever for me to climb down my own braids.'

'Cut your hair? Then we can tie the braids to the bed post '
'I can't! They're my crowning glory. No way am I going to cut my hair.'
'OK. Then I'll make a silk rope for you. What you think? I can ask the maid to do the weaving.'

The genius, Mark. But I had a better idea.

'I do can or not? The weaving I mean.'
'You cannot lah. Your fingers so precious.'

Precious, yes, but I was too fucking bored, so weaving a silk rope felt like a good way to pass time while waiting for his daily arrival. I told Mark this just ten minutes before he left me.

'You so fucking bored meh?' he said. Now this guy Mark is your average red-blooded male and he's quite the hamsap fella.

I wasn't complaining.

'You want me to fuck you out of your boredom or not?'
'Cannot lah.'
'But you fucking bored mah.'
'It's just an expression. Picked it up from the swaying coconut trees. They catch the voices in the air and repeat the foul words to me. At least, when you're stuck up in a tower and have nothing better to do, you feel foul and even swaying coconut trees speak in cusses.'
'I can make you sway like the coconut trees, if you like. And you'll say more than "fuck", trust me.'

God I wanted to end my abstinence there and then but Mother was coming for her visits, so I told Mark to go away ASAP. Anyway, I was devirginized on Mark's third visit. Damn good I tell you, the experience. Another day I'll tell you about my first time.

Anyway today's story is about the silk rope, and so happened that Mark decided, since I wanted to weave my own silk rope, he would be my daily supplier.

Took me about three days to weave the goddamn thing, but at least the whole process kept me busy in the nights.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1: My name and how I came to be
RS 2: That famous long hair of mine

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… on the peaceful planet of Haboo, lived the happy hamsters’ community. However trouble is brewing on the planet Haboo, where the evil Guinea-Pig Federation has staged a blockade on the peace-loving planet. Two Jedi Hamsters, by the name of Qui-Ham-Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Ham Sternobi are sent to the besieged planet to investigate.

Please visit my friend, Yammy, and tell him how much his HamSTAR WARS story really rawks!