Frankenlab

As word of my fabulous story creating website begins to spread, more and more people are asking “Just who is Dr. Victory E. Frankenstory anyway”? It is certainly a pertinent question and, being the aforementioned Doctor, I feel I am supremely qualified to answer it.

The story of my success begins many years ago in the sleepy Alpine village of Yödelayoo where I was working as a humble librarian. One fateful day as I was dusting a big pile of Mills and Boons high on a rickety bookcase, the shelves gave way and I was buried in a veritable avalanche of romantic fiction and soppy chick-lit.

When I regained consciousness, I awoke to find my face was buried in an open book –Genetic Experimentation for Dummies. What’s more, the concussion I suffered as I fell jolted a dormant part of my brain, leading me to instantly absorb all of the incredible information in this hefty scientific tome.

From that day forward I began to experiment, carrying out illicit scientific trials on my beloved books. I spliced them and diced them, injected them with chemical goo, ran them through powerful supercomputers and tried to make them navigate little wooden mazes in search of bits of cheese. Alas all I got was inky fingers and books that smelled of feet – it seemed my scientific dreams were to be left in tatters!

Then, one dark and stormy night as I was trying to weld bits of a Charles Dickens novel to a knackered old Sony Playstation, a bolt of lightning zinged through the open skylight of the Frankenlab and struck the machinery before me. Pages fluttered, monitors flickered and the smell of singed hair wafted worryingly from the vicinity of my nipples.

Then, just as my assistant Igor began to apply aloe-vera to my frazzled chest hair, there came a stirring from the corner of the lab. We looked on in wonder as out of the shadows lurched a monstrous mechanical marvel – part book, part machine, part pastrami and pickle sandwich (which I’d accidently dropped behind a cupboard the week before).  Frankenstory was ALIVE!

The monster was ravenously hungry and demanded to be fed so we began to toss it jumbled pages from a pile of books that had exploded in the lightning strike. And then a wondrous thing happened.

As it began to munch on the story fragments we offered, it began to lay tiny eggs which, when cracked open, revealed perfect hybrid stories, spliced together from the stories we fed it. They also smelled of dill pickle, but that’s beside the point.

Since that day we have lovingly nurtured the beast in the basement of the lab where it has made a comfy nest from back issues of National Geographic. But the creature is hungry and requires constant feeding so we desperately need your help!

We need a regular stream of stories coming through from the Frankenstory website to satiate its hunger and in return we’ll publish the resulting literary hatchlings on the web for all to see.  Think of it as the perfect blend of literary endeavour, scientific experimentation and nature conservation.

Oh, and if you like the smell of pickled eggs, we’ll consider that a bonus.