The Death of Colt Brandisher?

Writers block solved

It has been a while since I wrote anything about my fictional character, Colt Brandisher. 

For those people who tuned in late, he is a problem solving, creative minded, skirt chasing, Clint Eastwood type detective who has managed to get himself into a rather large predicament.  A bullet was hurdling at Colt's head at a rather fast speed when I last checked in with him. 

He has such a small brain that a bullet would not kill him, but the ricocheting inside the skull would do him in.

Actually Colt is more like Stuart Woods favorite, occasionally slow witted detective, Stone Barrington.

Stone Barrington is the type of detective that walks in dog poop and tries to figure out where the smell is coming from.  He always figures it out after about an hour.  He always solves the problem.  

Colt isn't nearly as clever.  People have told him that he has shitty shoes.  He thinks they are talking about the shoe style. 

I asked for Stuart Woods' help. I emailed him to describe my dilemma.  

He answered, " You got yourself into this, get yourself out."

I came to the decision that Colt must die.  It is the only solution. Thanks, Stuart.

Colt Brandisher will be replaced by his gay twin brother, Rock Brandisher, named in honor of Rock Hudson. (a man's man....both figuratively and literally.)

This will give me a lot of writing fodder.  I can describe the death of Colt Brandisher and develop my new character, Rock.

Rock Brandisher, gay detective.  

How can I incorporate all I know about gay people into my new character?

• Rock's apartment is decorated in mauve and puce.
• He listens only to Bette Midler and Judy Garland music.
• His favorite comedian is Kathy Griffin.
• He enjoys reading Truman Capote's books.
• His favorite playwright is Tennessee Williams.
• He hates women.
• He votes for Obama.
• His favorite talk show host is Rachel Maddow.
• He has a closet full of women's clothing.  He likes to cross dress.
• He likes to go to the park next to the elementary school and eats his lunch.  He always carries a pocket full of candy with him.
• He hangs out at gay bars only.
• He knows he is going to burn in hell so he is very promiscuous.
• He knows his problem can be fixed but will not get treatment.

The little French lady is looking over my shoulder.  I hear a loud gasp and an utterance that sounded very much like "WTF?"

"What?" I queried.

Wife: "You don't know much about gay people, do you?"

Me: "Just what I learned from Rick Santorum, the Westboro Baptist Church and the boys in 5th grade."

Wife: "Do you know you're very close to a Nazi?"

Me: "You're a Nazi?"

Wife: "No, no, fool!..I mean you are portraying gay people with myths and false stereotypes which is very close to being a Nazi or... a Republican candidate for president."

Me: "And your point is?....."

Wife: "Didn't you grow up with any gay people in your school?"

Me: "No, There were no gay people in my school. A few switched teams later on in life but no one was gay in my school. Students were not allowed to be gay.  It was their choice to switch later on.  I think they are mentally ill or it doubled their chance of getting a date on Saturday night. Only the teachers were allowed to be gay at my school."

Wife:"How many students switched teams later? Bucko!"

Me: Oh...let me see.  There was Sherman, Clarise, Ricky, Wendell, Rod, Tony,...Tony?...O...M...G...!!  I put my arm around Tony in football huddle once and I patted him on the ass after he scored a winning touchdown. Holy hat! I am one of them.  I didn't know that.  I just outed myself.  I never kissed Tony, I swear. Well, maybe a little peck on the cheek. No tongue involvement.  Oh, wait, I didn't do that. Forget that!"

Wife: "Hold on, dimple cheeks. You're not gay. I have it from a pretty reliable source. Your little French Lady...me!.....Ummm.....Tony?...What?"

Me: Really? Wow! That was close.  I thought I had just switched teams.

Wife: "People don't really switch teams. They just don't accept it at first.  They want to be like everybody else. Tell me more about this Tony thing."

Me: "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Hold everything. What are you telling me? Am I supposed to believe Rick Santorum, Republican candidate for President, The Pope, a candidate for sainthood, Mitt Romney, who thinks being gay is a choice and it can be fixed by prayer and a lobotomy or....you?"

Wife: "Me!!!! All that stuff you wrote about your character, Rock, is crap. Who's Tony?" 

My wife knows a lot of stuff. I will trust her on this one.  She keeps asking about Tony. What's up with that? 

So I am back to the drawing board.  Maybe Colt will live.  Perhaps he will have a gay twin brother.  I am so confused. Perhaps a female version of Colt.  I could call her Rockette.  No, that's not working. Writer's block again? Yeah.

Well, at least I'm not gay.

Not that there is anything wrong with that. "Right, Tony?"