STORY STRUCTURE

"Finally," said Bear to Bum.  "I thought we'd never get back to editing our book."

Bum responded, "It hasn't been that long, Bear.   I've been busy."

"Doing what?" asked Bear in that disapproving tone he sometimes uses.

"I had a lot of medical appointments, as did my sister, and you know I drive her to and fro'.  She no longer drives as she finds it too harrowing."

"Hmm," said Bear and paused for effect.  He likes to do that.  "I noticed you had time to post some items on your new blog, editingwithmyimaginarydog.blogspots.com.  I think the world of bloggery could've waited to hear about that pervert you met at Safeway.  That time should have been used to get on with our editing task.  You lost the Reader's Report, didn't you?"

"I mislaid it, if you must know, but I did find it and now we're ready to proceed."

"You lost it," said Bear in disapproval.

"Hold that thought, Bear.  Something has just come up on the CBC site here on my laptop.  Don Cherry has been fired for inappropriate comments."

"What did he say this time?" queried Bear, looking dismayed by this incident.

"He said something along the line that immigrants take and take from this country and then don't buy a poppy, or something like that.  I guess he noticed that so many people don't wear a poppy and he's right," said Bum.

"I thought we had free speech in this country," retorted Bear.

"Only if everyone agrees with what you've said, apparently," responded Bum.

"Lots of people buy a poppy but the bloody thing falls off, more often than not, according to my master's wife.  She said she paid about three times for a poppy and lost them all.  She was told to stick a piece of rubber from a pencil to the point of the poppy but she couldn't be bothered."

"I had the same problem last year and in desperation purchased a real poppy pin with a good fastener on the back.  That worked well.  This year, I donated and got a poppy, lost it, and then decided to dig out that pin from last year."

"I didn't see you wearing the poppy pin the other day," said Bear.

"I forgot," admitted Bum.

"So, Bum, it sounds like you've lost your memory," said Bear.

"I can't remember," said Bum.

Bear was peering at my laptop and said, "I see the sucky CBC has stepped up to say they respect Sportnet's decision that this is the right time for Don Cherry to step down.  Hockey Night in Canada was a longtime CBC  Saturday night staple, but the show and its games moved to Sportsnet in 2014.  Mr. Cherry made many inappropriate remarks over the years while under CBC's umbrella, but they did nothing.  Mr. Cherry was no doubt making a lot of money for them, much like Jian Ghomeshi."

"I think Mr. Cherry's dismissal is a shame.  Dear old Mom, who is presently dead, always liked Don Cherry.  She also liked Mike Tyson, as I recall.  She liked bad boys, presumably.  Some women do."

"Never mind all that, Bum.  Let's get back to editing our book, using your  nephew's Reader's Report as our guide.  What was the first point?" asked Bear.

"It's called Story Structure," said Bum.

"OK," Bum, "Lay it on me and keep it brief.  You know how you tend to run on sometimes."

Bum gave him a dirty look and started.

"This is the first paragraph Paul wrote under the heading Story Structure
and I quote,  "Janey Lennox, a retiree living in Deep Cove with her sister, goes walking each morning through the neighbourhood.  One morning she encounters a dog that can talk---a Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever---but he can talk only to Janey.  His name is Artos.  Janey enters into an agreement with the dog's owner, a man named Jim, to walk Artos each morning for pay."
.
"Hold it, Bum," said Bear, showing great exasperation.  "I am not a talking dog.  I am your imaginary dog, hence the title of our book.  What was your nephew thinking?  Next he'll be comparing me to Francis the talking mule."

"He does that later in his analysis, Bear, but let me explain something before you blow your top."  Bum held up her hands to hold Bear steady and quiet.

Bear spoke anyway.  "Let me first tell you, Bum, how much I appreciate that you brought me to your home this time.  I know I've been here before but this time seems special."

"You are always in my thoughts, dear Bear.  I can conjure you up anytime and any place."

"I like that word, conjure, Bum; it sounds magical, and our relationship is."

Both of them sat quietly for a bit, thinking loving thoughts about each other, and then spoke in unison.

"Story Structure, where were we?"

"You, Bear, became upset because our editor, Paul, thought you were a talking dog, and then he had the effrontery to compare you to Francis the Talking Mule.  I think that sums up where we were."

"I  suppose he finds you, his beloved aunt in real life, as a fascinating person with the added bonus of having a talking dog who talks only to her."

"Yes, Bear, something like that," said Bum in a somewhat smug way, and even produced a bit of a smirk.  She knew that would get his goat.

"I hope you put Paul straight on that talking dog bullshit," said Bear, still looking annoyed.

"I did, but with my sister's help.  This is what she said, and I copied it into our book.

What if there were another world that I could escape to like Alice down the rabbit hole?  If you believe something enough it can become real. And with this thought, the dog appeared.

"That would be me?" asked Bear.

"Yes, my imaginary dog appeared and we walked on into all the pages of our book."

"What about the talking bit that Paul got wrong?" queried Bear.

"Do you know the Alice in Wonderland story, Bear?"

"My master's daughter read it aloud, and I heard it many years ago.  I have forgotten most of it, I must confess."

 "Ok then, Bear, in Alice's fantasy world a white rabbit came rushing along and she heard him say I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date, and no one reading the book questioned the talking bit.  It was part of the fantasy."

"OK then Bum.  Let's get back to Story Structure.  What did Paul say next?"

"He said we enter into a companionable but also sometimes testy relationship, chatting as we walk each morning.  We give each other nicknames--"Bear" for you and "Bum" for me.  We particularly like to swap stories in which we vent our opinions on all manner of things.  There is a sense that we become each other's closest friends."

"Finally, he got something right," said Bear. 

"Look here, Bear, to give Paul his due respect, he, as a reader questioned the fantasy aspect and I fixed that, so don't go on about it.  If it wasn't clear to him, there was obviously a problem.  He's a good writer himself, a careful reader, and analyzes books of superior quality to ours, on his Facebook."

"OK," said Bear.  "Maybe I was a bit harsh.  So, what else did he say about the structure of our book?"

"Among the things that Janey, the heroine now called Bum, is that she has long considered writing a romance novel, something in the line of the Harlequin Romance or maybe the racier Harlequin Presents, and she shares considerable sections of two romance plots she has in mind."

"That's good Bum.  I remember the Harlequin stories you wrote, and I particularly liked that the heroine in the Harlequin story met the hero at Honey's, the famous donut shop in the Village, and then the Canadian Superstore, of all places."

"Yes, that was fun, wasn't it Bear?  Well, I guess we're finished with Story Structure," said Bum.

"Wait just one minute," said Bear.  "What about the boyfriend?  He's a pretty big part of the structure of the story, integral I would say."

"I forgot.  Sorry.  We meet a neighbour who is a widower and a master gardener, but who never seems to talk.  I expressed interest in getting to know him better and you, dear Bear, became jealous and not fond of this idea.   How's that?"

"That's better," said Bear.  "I think your nephew has covered the salient points regarding structure.  We could've finished this part of the Reader's Report faster if you hadn't lost it."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Bear, I mislaid it.  It was not lost."

Bear responded, "When something is mislaid, it is lost."

Bum responded right back with, "You are a bit of a nag, Bear.  Have I told you that before?"

"Someone has to keep you on the straight and narrow, and that would best be me who cares for you.  You lost it.  Why can't you admit it?"

"Bear, if I'd wanted this kind of grief, I would've gotten married."