The Seven Sins of Master Fob

1. His plots consist mostly of people wandering aimlessly, staring at each other's waistlines.

Jacob and Spencer had been hiking through the forest for days now, as you know because you've read the last fourteen chapters, but still Jacob could not take his eyes off the sliver of pale flesh between Spencer's shirt and his pants. Spencer lifted his arm, causing the shirt to shift, revealing an inch more of his back. Jacob stared. They continued to hike.

2. His prose tends to be dialogue-heavy and everything else-light.

"So now we're here."

"Yes, we are. What should we do?"

"Let's talk."

"Okay, talking would be good, especially because we're here now."

"Yes, we are. Look around you--isn't this place amazing?"

"Yes it is. But I wanted to talk about my stepfather, who has been ritually abusing me and cheating on my mother with her sister."

"Oh. Yes, let's talk."

3. His characters feel no emotion.

"You see, he dresses me in black every night and takes me to the bell tower, where he cuts off random body parts." Gina raised her left hand, which was missing two fingers. "See?"

"Yes," said her boyfriend, who loved her very much. "I see. That is bad."

"Yes," she said. "It is."

He stared at her silently.

She stared back.

"Yes," he said. "That is bad."

"You should also know," Gina said, "that I killed your mother."

"I see. That is also bad.

"Yes." She stared at him.

He stared back.

4. He is inconsistent in his willingness to allow characters to swear.

"You darn little piece of shit," said Henry. "Go to heck, bitch."

5. He has a tendency to make unintentional sexual references (in addition to the intentional ones).

Rocko's pregnant wife laughed, rubbing the bulge.

6. He finds parts of his writing laugh-out-loud hilarious when no one else does.

The poop-streaked condom stands in my way, shaking its rubbery little head and saying, "This path is not for you, my friend."

7. His characters share his own obscure obsessions, making them a little hard for normal people to relate to or understand.

Jimmy lay in bed, reading the latest issue of Fallen Angel while listening to Michael Franti and the Gift of Gab rap about the evils of war. He is disappointed to learn that Lee is not, in fact, Linda Danvers, but happy to know that Gab can still spit a verse like no other. He wonders whether he's more concerned by the worldwide economic effect of Wal-Mart's continued expansion or the hopeless situation of gay rights, particularly the rights of gay men married to straight women. Then he thinks about Lauryn Hill, for no particular reason.

8. Master Fob is horrible at showing versus telling.

I am horrible at showing versus telling. This doesn't count.

9. His lists are usually not the length he says they'll be.