Help Me Create an Alien

Brainstorm is an accurate description of what happens to an author when an idea strikes.  The mind whirls furiously, new thoughts compound and spiral out of control.

Then the itch in the fingers begins as phrases and sentences demand to transfer to computer screen or blank paper, or restarunt napkin, even the probverbial matchbook cover.

This is a compulsion that cannot be overcome.

So, Your Mission, should you choose to accept: Help me create an alien.

An idea blindsided me this morning in the shower.  I now have a new sekrit projict after weeks of twiddling my thumbs.  Can’t give you many details yet.  Don’t even know if I can sell it.  But I can’t sell it until I write a proposal.

And I can’t finish the proposal until I create an alien antagonist, or at least irritant and red herring.

This is not a war-like creature.  These are the Bankers of D’Or.  They make pre-ghost Scrooge look like a benevolent philanthropist.  Bush II era mortgage brokers  drool in envy at their cunning.  They rewrite contracts while the original is still in force and implement them.  Not only do they charge principle and interest, they demand a percentage of profits as pure cream that rises to the top and doesn’t toubh the aforementioned principle and interest.

Help me figure out what gas or liquid the Bankers of D’Or breathe.  How many limbs or heads do they have?  What is their means of locomotion.  And what do they eat?  Some of that gold they are skimming from their clients?

Once I know who these critters are I’ll have to figure out their weakness and a way to trick them into forgetting about their mortgage on the space station, but not until moments before they are ready to foreclose, repossess, and expel the current occupation.

I’ll weigh all the ideas, combine and refine them.  Those who help will get a mention in the acknowledgments if I sell this sucker.

Phyllis Irene Radford writes traditional fantasy as Irene Radford, spiritually oriented space opera as C.F. Bentley, and urban fantasy as P.R. Frost.  Her cozy mystery “Lacing Up For Murder” serializes at the Book View Cafe on Thursdays.  She blogs regularly on Thursdays as well.  Visit her bookshelf at


About Phyllis Irene Radford

Irene Radford has been writing stories ever since she figured out what a pencil was for. A member of an endangered species—a native Oregonian who lives in Oregon—she and her husband make their home in Welches, Oregon where deer, bears, coyotes, hawks, owls, and woodpeckers feed regularly on their back deck. A museum trained historian, Irene has spent many hours prowling pioneer cemeteries deepening her connections to the past. Raised in a military family she grew up all over the US and learned early on that books are friends that don’t get left behind with a move. Her interests and reading range from ancient history, to spiritual meditations, to space stations, and a whole lot in between. Mostly Irene writes fantasy and historical fantasy including the best-selling Dragon Nimbus Series and the masterwork Merlin’s Descendants series. In other lifetimes she writes urban fantasy as P.R. Frost or Phyllis Ames, and space opera as C.F. Bentley. Later this year she ventures into Steampunk as someone else. If you wish information on the latest releases from Ms Radford, under any of her pen names, you can subscribe to her newsletter: Promises of no spam, merely occasional updates and news of personal appearances.


Help Me Create an Alien — 6 Comments

  1. Hmm. When you mention that these creatures are the bankers, I think hording, and that makes me think of dragons. Perhaps some humanoid/dragon mix? As for how many heads, I like the idea of having the females with more heads and more aggression so that they are the prime guardians of the young and the treasure.

  2. What if they breathed air that was toxic and had the effect of dissolving normal paper, so any contracts they make have to be on their special paper, which dissolves in oxygenated air (I have no idea how the science would work). Their banks would be safe b/c people have a hard time breaking into a toxic environment, and it would give them an advantage in contract negotiation since the other party can’t take the contract away for an in-depth review.

    And for kicks and giggles, it would be kind of fun it they looked a little like Cthlu 🙂

  3. Hi Phyllis,
    How about…

    T’oolip Proud was the Prime Banker of D’Or. It was a position he held onto firmly with as many pseudopods as he could extrude at one time and still not lose bodily coherence… they were a great many.
    If his great amoeba-like body could have shown injury then his vast bulk would have been cicatrised with the countless scars he had received in his lifetime protecting his position. You did not become Prime Banker by being generous, altruistic or sympathetic to the poor souls who, as a last resort, were obliged to seek his services as banker. No, you kept your position as number one by screwing every last credit out of them before foreclosing on their mortgage and selling off their sweat-covered assets for the best price possible. T’oolip was fully deserving of his surname when it came to assisting his customers into bankruptcy. After all, he was the largest of all D’Or’s bankers. His very girth proclaimed that he, above all, was at the pinnacle of his profession, as the only sustenance that his species could absorb was the misery of those they had impoverished, and T’oolip was big, very big. Therefore, knowing of his reputation and just seeing his vast bulk waddle onto the space-station should have been enough to make the potential mortgage-seekers think again about their request, but, strangely enough, it didn’t…


  4. Hey Phyllis,

    Good luck with the reptiles but don’t turn your back on ’em.
    Being cold-blooded they should do quite well in deep space but always remember the bankers’ motto:

    ‘In space no one can hear you scheme…’

    By all means borrow the name, I can point it out then when I buy your book and say- ‘Phyllis borrowed that and never gave it back!’ 🙂