This page is dedicated to my current and best writing project, The Tale of Twoshirts. I’m currently querying agents, and my goal is to publish the series and hopefully convert it into an animated television series or movie.
If you’re interested in joining the discussion about the world and the vibe, head over to https://www.reddit.com/r/Twoshirts/. And if you’re interested in joining the discussion about specific books, check out https://www.reddit.com/r/TheTaleofTwoshirts/.
The Tale of Twoshirts is the debut novella in a 5-book cozy fantasy series aimed at young adults and the young-at-heart, and is complete at 45,000 words. Book 2 has a full manuscript and currently sits at just over 56,000 words.
Twoshirts is an orphan goblin boy that befriended a genie, and wished he could grant wishes like his friend. So when someone makes a wish in front of him, he’s compelled to fulfill it. And even though he has some magic, he doesn’t have the full magic of a genie, and therefore needs to solve the problem through wit, grit, and luck. The book humorously upends the fantasy trope of the protagonist being the secret orphan prince or “the chosen one.”
The story begins with the two friends at the gates of Akri, on their way to fulfilling a wish. The book unfolds with Twoshirts meeting some new friends, trying to accomplish his goal, and then getting trapped into not only fulfilling an accidental wish, but also the nefarious wishes of the antagonist, Gregor Münch, who has captured the genie.
Some of the tension comes from the fact that goblins are one of the low races, rather than a noble race like an elf, dwarf, or human. Throughout the story, Twoshirts is witness to, and the subject of, systemic and overt racism.
The emotional impact comes from Twoshirts, and how he sees the world through a child’s eyes. He creates connections with his friends and mentors, who are multi-dimensional characters with complex desires, foibles, and flaws. He grows by learning how to let them help him, as much as he helps them. And importantly, his geas to fulfill wishes is usually a good thing, but can also be dangerous.
My logline currently is:
Arne Knudson is a humorous fantasy and scifi author for kids & kids-at-heart, who poses interesting questions for his characters to solve. His rich characters and deep worldbuilding creates a space for everyone to fairly ask where they fit, and how we all can be better.”
I’ve tried a couple pitches so far:
The Tale of Twoshirts is a humorous cozy fantasy about a goblin boy who befriended a genie and wished he could grant wishes. Shenanigans ensue when a new friend makes an accidental wish, and mysterious woman in black captures the genie.
Or:
#TheTaleofTwoshirts asks: what happens when the loathsome lordling learns that the one granting wishes isn’t the genie he captured, but his friend, the little goblin boy?
I’ve also publicized the dramatis personae et locus, which is:
The Gang
Twoshirts, a goblin boy. The protagonist. Always wears two shirts because he hates being cold.
Boggle, formerly a genie. Now a tiny surly invisible goldfish-man with stubby arms, legs, and wings. And a trident.
Any, a goblin girl. The brains.
Puffer, an ogre boy. The muscle.
Angie, a human girl. The heart.
Zig & Zug, twins. The chaos.
The Allies
Professor Emeritus Providence T. Thumbwhistle, BCE, OBG. (No autographs.)
Lord Alfred Frederickson (“Fred”), owner of Wildwood Imports and Exports (I&E). Without the beard, he’d be cute as a button.
Jasper Pennington, Fred’s assistant / butler / secretary. Definitely a dwarf.
Mr. McCoy, Wildwood I&E’s foreman.
Mrs. McCoy, head of the refectory at Wildwood I&E.
Princess Reshii, fourth daughter to the Sultan of Koom, and the source of the wish that starts the story.
The Antagonists
Gregor Münch, Fred’s rival. Son of a lord and a sunuvab-
The Mysterious Woman in Black, an elf employed by Münch. She holds the knife.
Robbie Pyatt, Münch’s head crony. The sycophant and frequent failure.
Frank Wilcox, Münch’s other crony. Not the brains of the outfit.
The City of Akri
Home to the Magical University of Akri, on the shores of the Abysmal Sea. After the university, Akri is known for three things: the warm, wet breeze that bring sea air up the face of the cliffs; the flags, banners, and pennants affixed to the peak of every home and building, creating a susurrus of flapping and crackling fabric, matched by the low hum of the wind; and the chaotic field of magic, from the explosion that created the nearby sea, that tends to make magic “go wrong.” Known complications, when using magic, include: your hair falls out, you grow a second head with a proclivity for auto-fisticuffs, or you misspeak a spell to create some extra ice cream and accidentally create a horde of rampaging ice zombies.
I’ve also created & commissioned some art pieces / images / related material, like these:
First is an annotated map of the city of Akri, where the first book takes place. I created this before writing the book, using Inkarnate, to help get a sense of the layout of the city. I also wanted to push myself to create interesting places that may (or may not) be relevant to the story. In doing so, I learned about places like the Pie and Piper shop (savory and sweet pies that fit in your pocket!), the Wizard’s Warren, and the Iron Peanut Ship Repair and Construction Company. I also learned what people would call the three different levels of the city (Up, Down, and the middle level split into the Left and the Right). And I learned how the geography and the space would influence the city itself, particularly how it would stratify into different classes and levels of gentrification.
In the story, after leaving the island together, the genie loses most of his magic. He took the name Boggle, and now mostly stays invisible. In the book, I write:
Twoshirts looked at Boggle, who had changed significantly since their time on the island. Normally, Boggle was invisible to everyone, except for Twoshirts. Describing him was difficult; the best Twoshirts could manage was if you took a surly-looking hunched-back goldfish, about eight or so inches tall, gave it stumpy arms and legs plus a pair of tiny angel wings, you might get close to describing Boggle completely insufficiently. Boggle didn’t like to talk or make noises, and given his fish-shaped face, he rarely expressed an emotion other than dour piscine confusion.
My oldest child is in college studying art and animation. I asked if they’d do a quick sketch of Boggle, and this is what they came up with:
I know it’s not exactly what I had in mind, but it’s perfect and I love it.
Finally, here’s a few of my favorite snippets from book 1:
“…Second, if you are a sorcerer, wizard, warlock, witch, prestidigitator, philatelist, magician, witch doctor, diviner, necromancer, seer, or other practitioner of the arcane arts, please take your file and proceed past me to the blue door on your left. If you cannot perceive the color blue, it’s the third door on the left. And if you don’t know your right from your left, or cannot count past two, let me know and I will be happy to have a page escort you to the proper room. Otherwise, you may take your file and proceed to the white door on your far right.”
Twoshirts paused. “Um, I think you made a mistake.”
The girl blinked. This was clearly outside her script, and the mental gear shift had thrown her train of thoughts into neutral, as the wheels continued to spin furiously.
“Philatelist,” said Twoshirts. “That’s someone who collects stamps.”
She looked at him. She clearly was going over the speech she’d just given, trying to catch up to the word that Twoshirts had said.
“Nevermind,” he said, and walked towards the blue door.
“The speech says to ‘exit the area in an organized fashion,’ but honestly, if there’s apocalyptic hellfire raining down, just skedaddle on out of there, quick as you can. Don’t bother with ‘utmost care’, just run.”
Twoshirts considered for a moment. “Apocalyptic hellfire raining down… do you get that a lot?”
Professor Thumbwhistle stood up from behind the desk. “Not since the last time I had to deal with it. Please, follow me.”
“You know how weird that sounds, right? Goblin boy, owns nothin’ but a backpack and a pair of busted sandals, living in an abandoned kitchen with a bunch of orphans, and you’ve met a princess.”
“More than met, she’s my friend.”
She snorted. “And you couldn’t’ve asked her for a new pair of sandals?”
Sputtering dust and cursing, the guard started to get up, but Mr. McCoy put his hand out, gesturing for him to stop. In a low, fearsome growl that astonished Twoshirts in its quiet ferocity, Mr. McCoy said, “Step to me again, son, and it ends with me in the stocks and you in the hospital. And in a couple weeks, when we both get out and stand before the magister, my story’s going to be about a little girl in a prison cell, and a guard that put hands on me first. What’ll your story be?”
Twoshirts couldn’t sleep. He paced the room for a moment, trying to think clearly, but his mind was racing around in circles. He tried to sneak out of his room, but Mr. McCoy caught him before he got three steps.
“Mr. Twoshirts, please. You can’t go. You need to rest.”
“But I –“
“No buts, lad. Don’t make me get Mrs. McCoy, she’ll sit in the chair and knit you to sleep if she has to.”
Twoshirts shook his head. “Man, this is crazy.”
Any smiled. “My plan, his strength, your magic. And a one-armed guard. It’s gonna be awesome.”
If you’re interested in more, please subscribe or leave a comment. I’m working out how I can increase interest, how I can get an agent, how I can get a publisher, how to market the series, and all the other bits of being a writer that have nothing to do with writing. Any interest or engagement helps!
