Troubles of a bridge troll

While walking home a few weeks ago, daydreaming, I saw this pipe by the 10th Street railroad bridge. It's been there a long while, but it was the first time I noticed it... and it sparked this idea of a displaced bridge troll.

Troubles of a Bridge Troll

a short tale by Meagan Eller

It didn't used to be this way. Time was, a young troll could find a vacant bridge and be set for life. Bridges were easy to find. Maybe not much traffic, but humans are slow and scare easily. And their horses, well, horses will spook unless you know how to approach them right.

But those days... those days are gone. 

I thought I had found a perfect bridge. Not too big, a ready place to live underneath. I should have been suspicious. 

Those humans, they're tricky. Like vermin, they spread all over. And engineer (that's one of those fancy human words) a place to suit them. Time was, they were a good kind of vermin, easy pickings. 

I miss those days. I miss the days before they tore down my bridge. No, it was before that, before they stopped using my bridge. 

I had a nice wooden bridge over a stream. Plenty of water, critters to keep me company, the gentle creak of the wooden planks lulling me to sleep at night. My bridge wasn't a very busy bridge, but there were enough humans to keep me in business. 

Then one day it changed. A new bridge was built just up the stream. I watched them build it. At first I wasn't sure what they were building. There was already a bridge here, just a little ways down the stream. But sure enough, it was a new bridge. And they just stopped crossing mine. 

By the time I realized what had happened, a young troll had taken up residence under that new bridge. Business didn't seem to be going well, anyway, what with those fast carts racing over. Maybe it was better they weren't on my nice wooden bridge. My bridge wouldn't have been the same.

Ah, what does it matter? Old bridge, new bridge. My home was worthless. A troll shouldn't have to up and move bridges like that. Not at my age. That should have been my bridge for life.

But move I did. That's how I wound up here. In this tiny cave, under a useless bridge. I'm too old to move again. And chances are I wouldn't find a bridge worth having if I did. I'll just wait out my time, watching the fast cars (that's what the humans call them) go by, groaning as the bridge above my head shakes each time one of those big heavy trains rumbles over my bridge. 

You see, it not be easy for a bridge troll nowadays, but at least I have a bridge. I'll get by. That's what us trolls do.

YA is the PG-13 of novels

Last night I had an interesting conversation with a writer named Shirley. We had attended a screenwriting panel and are both aspiring writers.

Shirley is adapting a script she had written, turning it into a novel. She has tried to shop it around as an adult novel, but didn't have any takers. She wondered if maybe it was more of a young adult novel.

The idea of it being a YA novel had been suggested to her before. I mentioned that the novel I am writing was a YA fantasy novel, and mentioned that I thought her themes sounded like a good fit for a teen audience.

I haven't read her novel, but the idea had occurred to me from her description. She's now mulling that idea.

All this is to set the stage for something I was thinking about as I wandered the grocery store at 10:00 last night:

Movies often aim for a PG-13 rating to increase their possible audience. R ratings by definition exclude the under 18 set. PG-13 is seen as still interesting to adults, unlike PG or G, which are "for kids".

At the book store, there is a similar sorting. The children's section is like G and PG movies. The YA section is like a PG-13 movie. The rest of the store is adult by default.

Now, just because a book isn't in the YA section doesn't mean a teen can't read it, so in that way the sections aren't exactly like movie ratings. But consider the number of adults who read books from the YA section (The Hunger Games, Twilight). There are many books I have read that I was surprised to find in YA - The Art of Racing in the Rain, for example.

There are the examples of children's books that get read by adults as well (Harry Potter), just as there are G and PG movies that adults enjoy. But that YA section is pretty popular just as PG-13 movies are pretty popular.

Writing something that is appropriate for and appeals to young and old can certainly expand your audience. And even if it doesn't, if it only appeals to younger readers, isn't it better to have your story out there, being read, than to have it collect dust in a drawer?

Now I just need to finish my novel so it can find those readers.

A Giftmas story

It was coming. It was coming fast. Only 16 more shopping days before it would be time once again to celebrate the holiest of holy holidays: Giftmas.

The season of getting was in full swing, with people rushing to the malls, charging into stores, frantically clicking 'buy' online, all in the hopes of getting a great deal. It didn't matter what they were buying; all that mattered was that it was 50% off.

"Ooh! That thingamawhatchacallit is on sale! Only $29.99! I must buy it," Joe shouted into the empty room. Glancing up at the sound of his voice echoing, he frowned.


Feeling lonely, he turned on his favorite Giftmas music. Maybe that would help chase the feeling of emptiness away.

We wish you a merry Giftmas. We wish you a merry Giftmas. We wish you a merry Giftmas and a happy new haul!


Switching back to the thingamawhatchacallit, he clicked his mouse button, hoping he could complete his purchase before the price went back up. He wasn't sure who he would give it to. But that didn't matter. The point was he had to buy it.

As his purchase completed, he heard a chime as the confirmation email hit his inbox. Opening the message, he saw three little words he hadn't noticed before: "All sales final."

His stomach clenched. With a frown he read and reread the email. He looked down at the credit card sitting on the desk in front of him. Glancing back at the screen, the words jumped out at him again: "ALL SALES FINAL".

All I want for giftmas is a lot of toys, a lot of toys, a lot of toys. All I want for Giftmas is a lot of toys, then I'll have a merry Giftmas.


Suddenly sweating a little, he opened a new browser page. Logging in to his credit card account, he blanched at the balance. It was higher than he had thought. "Crap."

Why had he wanted to buy that thingamawhatchacallit? He didn't need it. He couldn't think of anyone to give it to. He thought back on all the stuff in the mail on its way to him now. None of it seemed worth buying. It was all just stuff. His head fell into his hands, dark thoughts whirling through his mind.

I'm dreaming of a bright Giftmas, with toys and games and more for me. Where the ribbons sparkle, and paper crinkles, with bows on every box I see.


Raising his head with resolve, Joe shut down his computer. He wasn't sure what he would do with all the stuff he had bought, but he knew he was done. He couldn't afford to buy, buy, buy. He didn't need more things. He needed to be less alone. And that wasn't going to happen sitting here in an empty room.


This is just a fiction piece that came to mind when I thought about how much Christmas seems to be turning into Giftmas.