LYSSA STRATA
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Lyssa Strata pushed up her glasses and prepared to say the words “birth control” to the entirely male Athena, Massachusetts Town Council, the average age of which was 80. It would’ve been higher if not for her stepfather, Councilman Daniel Park, who, at 42, brought the average from “nursing home” up to “Viagraville.” The last time most of these men needed birth control, it had come in the form of a chastity belt.
“People—er, gentlemen—of the Town Council,” Lyssa began. “We’ve heard you promise for decades that you’ll eliminate Athena’s centuries-old, degrading laws pertaining to women, yet nothing changes. The statute outlawing birth cont—”
“Young woman!” wheezed Councilman Thomas Pickle, aged 89.
She waited for more.
Pickle coughed up something so alarming, Lyssa feared he’d be the second Council member to die on the bench this year. But he merely sucked on his dentures and glared at her wateringly. At least she’d grabbed his mummified attention. Most of the time, glances swept right past her to settle on something flashier, like an empty sidewalk.
“As I was saying…” Lyssa swallowed a sigh. “Statute 4-1 from 1829 outlaws birth control, marital aids, and red panti—er, underthings—”
“Except for pirates!” This from Councilman Thomas Mayweather, aged 91.
Lyssa forced a smile. “Yes. Pirates are allowed to wear red knickers, but I am not. You’re probably afraid my flat butt will become too powerful if clad in scarlet.” She snorted a laugh.
Crickets.
Ohhh-kay. Nothing like referencing one’s own backside on the official record. She should have given some pirate facts instead. Taken as a whole, they possessed more rights than she did in Athena.
“We can’t see your posterior in that dress,” said Mayweather. “But I enjoy its modesty.”
Lyssa spread the skirt of her reproduction Puritan dress circa 1657. She figured she’d get more attention in the getup after many failed pleadings before the Council regarding birth control laws, witch laws, and laws against dancing; maybe she should’ve dressed as a character from Footloose…
Welcome to the blog! The first page
is perhaps one of the most important pages in the whole book. It’s what draws
the reader into the story. Why did you choose to begin your book this way?
Lyssa pleading to be taken
seriously by the Town Council of Athena is the trigger for the whole infamous sex
strike. Because she’s treated like crap, and the ladies of Athena notice that
kind of thing. They’re pretty tired of these old, sexist laws on the books,
especially when the sheriff decides to enforce them to punish witches, a.k.a. any
woman who stands up for herself.
Funny how many of us turn out to be witches, huh?
In the course of writing your book,
how many times would you say that first page changed and for what reasons?
Honestly, it didn’t change very much
at all; I only tightened it up a little to cut to the chase. The space alien
attack just wasn’t necessary for the development of my characters. Better to
save the apocalypse for the exciting sequel.
Was there ever a time after the
book was published that you wished you had changed something on the first page?
Removing Zandark’s moving poem
about destroying the Earth so he could give an Earth-rock to his husband, Xururruffh,
was tough, but it was the right thing to do.
In all seriousness, no. But that’s
a more boring answer.
What advice can you give to
aspiring authors to stress how important the first page is?
Just remember that an agent or editor won’t read past the first page if they don’t like it. We get about 250 words to prove ourselves. That’s terrifying, right? And highly motivating. Find the central conflict and give us a reason to love your main character (or hate your villain) (or love your villain) on the first page. Rooting the beginning in something relatable is a much better hook that inserting random action centered around a person we just met. I don’t care about your heroine just because she’s running away from something, I care about her because she swerved to avoid stepping on a chipmunk and faceplanted on a tree. I can relate to that.
And never start a book with someone waking up.
Martti Nelson is the author of comedy novels Lyssa Strata and Attack of the Rom-Com, which is due out later in 2021, as well as some love letters to Totino’s in honor of their fine Party Pizzas. She’s been featured on such luminous sites as Weekly Humorist, The Belladonna, Robot Butt, Daily Drunk Magazine, and Slackjaw. In addition to writing brilliant stuff that is often referred to as “stop mentioning menstruation so much,” Martti enjoys yard work with power tools that make her feel important. Martti creates funny books because she believes that humor can inspire joy, bring people together, and save the world, even in times of darkness. This bio has gotten a tad deep, so she will end on another joke.
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