Today’s cup of coffee celebrates that prickly feeling a writer gets when a dragon stops by to blow holes in their work and eat the writer’s favorite character. There are a number of ways to handle a dragon in fiction. It can be big and mean and slain by some gallant knight. Most dragons have magic to go with their fire-breathing or acid-spitting ways so they might turn into a shape that can be coped with – a beautiful human with a slightly scaly appearance. It might talk. It might hoard treasure. It might be inclined to help a human, do so for a price, or it might simply burn villages to the ground until a suitable number of virgins are sacrificed to it. Fictionally speaking.
The reality of the dragon is less enthralling. They don’t leave any readers to make anything of the lovely fictional dragons that fly about in our fancies. Always, dragons have been there. In every bit of history we have access to, there are dragons. Some friendly if you go east. Some less so. Some slain by saints and knights. Some simply sleeping and posing as a mountain. Let us be careful never to wake the dragons. For one thing is true, to a dragon, we are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.
However, the dragon on my cup does not sour the goodness of morning’s first sip of coffee. So another day revising and hoping my character can find a way to escape the dragon he mistook for a mountain.