Edgar Allan Poe’s Transmedia Exercise “Previous Interaction” #PoePartyFTW

Hi Internet People,

Here’s my latest installment in the Poe Party transmedia exercise. Balt and Phil reveal a previous party and the reason behind Mary Shelley’s impressive white streak. I hope you enjoy, it’s a little longer than the last two.

Inside the home of Edgar Allan Poe, the host and his party guests rush from the dining room, following in the footsteps of the coughing Louisa May Alcott.

“Balt, where are they going?”

“I don’t know Phil, I can’t see through walls. Wait, it looks like they’re moving back this way.”

“He’s holding a body, Balt Fyodor’s holding a body!”

“That’s Louisa’s dress. That must have been some coughing fit. It looks like Ed and Hemingway are getting that Eddie guy. Well, Hemingway is, I think Ed managed to get the feet.”

“Do you think they’re putting them in that Amontillado room Ed yells in on Thursday nights?”

“Makes the most sense, I don’t know where else you’d hide two bodies in the middle of the night. You know before he bricked up the wine cellar Ed tried to throw a party by himself.”

“Really? Why don’t I remember that?”

“You were out following Annabel Lee. He’d just finished that poem and he wanted you to deliver a special version on his finest parchment to her.”

“He did? Oh wait, he tied that random paper to my leg and I dropped it on the porch of this little house by the sea. Then I hung out with these really cool seagulls who taught me how to steal ice cream.”

“Delightful Phil, you became a dairy product derelict. Did you want to hear about the party?”

“Oh yeah, of course Balt. I can’t even imagine Ed deciding to throw a party on his own.”

“Well, it was more of a get together than a party, but it was still a big event for him.”

“How big is big, Balt?”

“Two people, which is more than he’d ever had in the house, before Lenore decided to haunt here at least.”

“Just two? Who two?”

“Okay, that isn’t exactly real English Phil, but alright. On a dark and stormy night, because Ed insisted there needed to be a specific ambience, a man and a woman arrived to spend the evening discussing literature with our oddly eerie owner.”

“This doesn’t really sound like a party Balt, maybe a book club, but not really a party.”

“Ed insisted on calling it a party, but you’re right birdbrain, it wasn’t really a hopping affair. Well, as lightning pierced the sky the doorbell rang. Ed nervously opened the door and there stood Mary Shelley and H.G. Wells.”

“They’re friends?”

“When you have a dynamo that needs fixing you call H.G., so while Shelley wouldn’t normally invite him over for tea she needed his tech savvy mind for a little bit of lab work.”

“I can guess why H.G. would have a dynamo, but what is Mary Shelley doing with one?”

“Do you remember her vulture Franky?”

“Oh yeah, he brought that raccoon to the rookery right?”

“Yep, that’s him. You see a couple nights before Ed’s wine cellar get together poor Franky ate some bad roadkill and wound up six feet under.”

“Six feet under what?”

“Seriously fluff for brains? A grave is six feet deep so…”

“He fell in a grave, that’s awful!”

If Balt could roll his black eyes he would have, instead he smacked his party watching companion with a stiff wing and a sigh.

“He died, Phil.”

“Oh, poor Franky.”

“Yeah, poor Franky. You see Shelley thought she could bring him back to life with some mad science and a little bit of electricity.”

“Did it work?”

“Sadly no, but it is the reason she has that white streak in her hair. Instead of literature she wound up eulogizing her fallen feathered friend in the damp and dark of the wine cellar. Ed found it wonderfully morbid, but H.G. wound up getting drunk and informing our buddy that the wine cellar looked more like some sort of tomb. Then Ed got that gleam in his eye and rushed the two of them out. After that he spent a whole day down there laying bricks and screaming random words until he finally landed on Amontillado.”

“Oh wow, I sure missed a lot while I was with those gulls.”

“You really did, and it looks like we missed a lot while I was rattling on about Ed’s previous interactions. Did Shelley just die?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking if she did Balt?”

Before he could stop himself Balt chocked out a croak of a laugh.

“Shocking, that’s a good one Phil. Ed might need to unbrick the wine cellar if the bodies keep piling up like this.”

Let me know what you think on Twitter, @kleffnotes, on my kleffnotes YouTube channel, I write for The Nerdy Girl Express and run their Snapchat, thenerdygirlexp, and I post recipes on the iZombie Support Group site.

Talk to ya tomorrow,



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