One Last Story

Laying in my deathbed I couldn’t stop thinking about the person that I had once loved the most in this world, and I was angry. I hadn’t thought about her in years. Now memories of her drifted through me like ghosts. I tried to laugh but it came out as a cough. I’m not quite dead yet but I’m in hell.

  I was young and foolish. She was younger and even more foolish. I was the older one and knew better, but I just couldn’t let go. I made excuses.

    An old memory rose to the surface. We had just finished having lunch in a restaurant. She was looking at her phone and I was sketching a figure and making notes.

   She looked over and asked, “Who’s that?”

   I looked up at her. Then I looked at the drawing and notes in my sketchbook.

   “Not sure,” I replied. “I guess that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

   In the end she was the stronger one and broke it off. It was for the best. I still have the scars to prove it.

    I reached for my glasses, put them on, and looked around my room. A cluttered desk. A television surrounded by shelves of books. A nightstand covered in pens, books, and medicine bottles. Lots of medicine bottles. A remote was perched precariously on a stack of books.

    I grabbed a random book and started reading. I didn’t get far. After a few pages the words stopped registering. I put the book back on the nightstand with a sigh.

    I reached carefully for the remote and turned on the television. I flipped channels until I found something familiar. I lasted longer this time but once again I found myself unable to concentrate. I turned off the television in frustration.

   I coughed again. After taking some medicine I took off my glasses and closed my eyes. Getting this old isn’t fun. I don’t recommend it. I managed to drift off to sleep.

   Suddenly the sun was in my eyes. I blinked and looked around. I was in a park on a bright sunny day. People were walking, people were sitting on the grass, and children were playing. I saw her in the distance. She smiled and waved. Then she turned away and chased after two little boys.

   A bird landed on my shoulder. Its dark little eye was so close. It was like swimming in black ink. It moved its head up and down and I realized it had something in its beak. It looked familiar but I couldn’t make out what it was. I held my hand under its beak. It dropped the object into my hand and I grasped it. It felt familiar. When I opened my hand I could see it. A fountain pen. Suddenly the bird flew away. I closed my eyes at the flutter of its wings.

    When I opened my eyes I was back in my bed. Happy memories rose to the surface pushing down the bitter ones. I put my glasses back on and scanned the books on the nightstand. I knocked one of the stacks out of the way and books tumbled onto the floor. I grabbed a leather hardcover with gold leaf decoration and raised bands on the spine. After fumbling with the metal clasp I managed to open the book. Inside the back cover was an inner pocket. From it I pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it. On the paper were notes for an unfinished story. I turned to the front of the book. The pages were blank. I knew I didn’t have much time left. I took a pen from the nightstand and started writing.

Afterword:

No idea if it's any good but enjoyed working on this. It started out as an exercise with a few steps. The first step was to answer a question. The next step was to take the answer and write the opening to a story in thirty seconds. I failed miserably. I was still working on the first two sentences after thirty seconds. I finally came up with something but it took a few minutes. Then the next step was to take the opening, set a timer, and finish a story in thirty minutes. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it but I gave it a shot. I was typing the last sentence just as the timer hit thirty minutes. I did a lot of revising to get to the final version here.

Things I Learned:

I learned that I can write the first draft of short story in thirty minutes! Although it’s short something like this can become the start or the end of something longer. Once I set the timer and started writing the world around me dropped away and I wasn’t over-thinking things. I was just writing. Felt good!

Next: Looking back at the last six months.

Memories of Music

“It’s urgent, like literary appendicitis. In writing, you operate on yourself and save yourself.” - Ray Bradbury

I’ve never felt the need to write my own music, but I've often felt a strong desire to listen to it. Like a lot of things in life, it happened in stages. At first it was something I encountered in school, singing songs in music class. It was fun. Then I discovered my parent’s record collection. Tom Jones, Julie London, random Christmas albums. I don’t remember much of the music but I sure do remember the Julie London album cover of her in draped in furs, jewels, and nothing else. I mostly listened to the Christmas albums. When we visited my grandfather in Germany, I listened to a Herman's Hermits single that he had, over and over again. Eventually I got a small record player with a built in radio and I started buying pop music singles.

After listening to the radio and playing records, I decided that I wanted to do more. I got it into my head that I would be a DJ. We had a tape cassette recorder at home. I set up the tape recorder next to the record player. I introduced songs using the call sign of my imaginary radio station, then played the songs on my record player, all the while recording everything on the tape recorder. After filling up one side of the tape I'd stop and play the tape back as if listening to the radio. Doing things like that seemed so effortless back then. My DJ career didn’t last long though and like my other creative attempts I lost interest and moved on.

I discovered a real love of music when I was in high school. Specifically rock music. Jazz came later. One day while visiting a friend's house we were listening to record albums and tapes. We listened to a lot of stuff that day but one album really grabbed me, Heart's Dreamboat Annie. After going home I couldn't stop thinking about it. Soon after I went record shopping with friends. Up until then I had only bought a few singles. I bought my first LPs, Heart's Dreamboat Annie and Fleetwood Mac's Rumors. Eventually going to record stores became a regular thing.

The first record store I visited regularly was a place called Oz Records and Tapes. I seem to remember a yellow brick road winding through the place. They had a system where a flying monkey would deliver albums and tapes from one part of the store to the other. I'd be browsing records and a suddenly the monkey would fly overhead. No, it wasn’t a real monkey, but it was still pretty cool. Eventually I started shopping at Turtle’s Record and Tapes. Funny how animals were part of the record stores I went to back then.

When I was in high school my favorite band was Heart. One day my family and I were on vacation in Florida. Dad's driving, mom is sitting shotgun, and I’m in the back seat. We were staying in a motel by the beach and we were out getting lunch or something. The car had no a/c so the windows were rolled down. Heart started playing on the radio and my ears perked up. The song was “Barracuda.” Listening to one of my favorite songs, from one of my favorite bands, on a sunny day in Florida. Life was good. That memory is burned into my brain. Another band that I got into and became one of favorites is Led Zeppelin. One morning I was eating breakfast at the kitchen table before heading to my part time job at a supermarket. Looking out the window on sunny morning listening to Led Zeppelin’s “Going to California.” Another memory burned into my brain.

The first concert I ever went to was Fleetwood Mac. We had pretty good seats, off to the side but with a clear view of the stage. It was so interesting to hear live music for the first time. The songs were the same but the music was different somehow. Less polished but more raw. I loved it. More concerts followed over the years.  Heart, Boston, Van Halen, Aerosmith, Cheap Trick, The Police, The Go-Go's, Kitaro, Akina Nakamori, and Namie Amuro.

These days I’m into electronica. My favorites right now are a Emancipator, a DJ based in Portland Oregon, and The Glitch Mob, a band from L.A. After watching the first two John Wick movies I’m also into Le Castle Vania, a DJ based in Atlanta, GA.

I’ve been writing on the go a lot this year. I used to need complete silence to write. These days I can write in coffee shops, restaurants, and craft beer bars. If it gets too noisy I’ll put in my earphones and listen to music. Besides my short stint as a tape recorder DJ, my creative endeavours never involved music. Now music helps me tune out distractions and tune in to what I’m trying to put into words.

Next: How about some fiction?

Incident at an Airport: Setting Exercise Part 2

As I watched people streaming into the airport, a limo pulled pulled up to the curb and I thought about what had to be done. Doors opened and four men wearing sunglasses and dark suits stepped out. I recognized them from the briefing files. Smith, Walters, Jenkins, and Young. Next, a man with gray hair and a moustache stepped out. Dr. Williams. The group entered the airport as the limo pulled away. I folded my newspaper, stuffed it into my jacket, and followed them in.

    One man stayed close to Dr. Williams. Smith. The other three men fanned out and followed at distance. I followed the group through the crowd. Businessmen with briefcases, university students with backpacks, and families juggling luggage and kids.

    The group reached the arrivals area and stopped. Dr. Williams looked anxiously at the arrivals exit. Smith stood close. The three other men stood further back and scanned the crowd. Walters turned and  looked in my direction. I looked up at the arrivals board and scanned the flights. He made his way towards me. I moved away from the crowd to an area with empty chairs and pulled out my phone. As Walters came up behind me I spun around and stabbed him with the knife I was holding in my other hand. A look of surprise flashed across his face. His eyes darted to the nearby crowds but nobody was looking. I eased him down onto one of the chairs. I pulled out my newspaper and laid it over his face. I patted him on the shoulder as I walked away.

    Passengers started flowing through the arrival doors. A young girl shouted. Dr. Williams smiled and waved. Suddenly Jenkins approached Smith, drew his weapon and shot him in the back. Smith fell to the ground. People screamed and began running. I was being pushed away. I tried to keep my eyes on the group. Dr. Williams held the young girl close, looking on in horror as Jenkins aimed for them. A shot rang out. Jenkins fell. I pushed against the current of people and made some headway. Smith was on the floor. His weapon fell from his hand and his head fell to the floor. Blood pooled from his body. Looks like they all hadn't turned.

    Young and I made eye contact. He glanced in the direction of Dr. Williams and the girl and then looked back at me. He fired into the crowd. A woman pushing a stroller fell to the floor. The stroller went flying and disappeared into the mass of people. I thought I could hear a child wailing. People were running at me from two directions. Young and I bolted for Dr. Williams. I was fighting against a swarm.

    Dr. Williams held the child close as he ran. I couldn’t get a clear shot. I pushed a man out of the way and I was finally free of the crowd. I aimed for Young as he aimed for Dr. Williams.

    We fired.

Afterword:

The exercise here was to experiment with a previously written work by switching the scene. I moved the character from the previous exercise from a hill to a crowded airport. The goal was to try to take a risk, to come up with a scene that is frightening or upsetting, or just beyond the bounds of what you’re comfortable with. I have no idea if I made it work and it came out more complicated that I intended, but it sure was a lot if fun trying. Oh, the typos. I keep finding then and fixing them. I enjoyed this exercise. It pushed me in new directions and made me try new things. I have to say I really prefer the previous version though. Next: Love of Music and Struggles with Creating

A Man Lying on a Hill, Looking Through a Rifle Scope: Setting Exercise Part 1

     I got down on the ground, laying down between a statue with broken wings and the dead body of the man I had just killed. I reached for my rifle and aimed between the iron gate of the graveyard, making sure to keep the barrel within the brush. I looked through the scope. I had a clear view of the street and the buildings below. A limo arrived. Two men in sunglasses stepped out. I recognized them from the files. Smith and Jenkins. No Walters though. He was lying next to me. They were followed by a man with gray hair and glasses. Dr. Williams. My target. At 3:15 a bell rang. Children began streaming out of school buildings. Smith and Jenkins stood guard. Children rushed past. Dr. Williams looked into the crowd. I had a clear view of the back of his head. Kids ran past the limo. A young girl shouted and Dr. Williams waved his hand. The girl raced across the yard with a big smile and jumped into his open arms. Smith and Jenkins moved in closer. Their weapons were drawn, held at their sides. Smith stepped next to Dr. Williams. He then brought his weapon to the side of Dr. Williams’ head. I fired and Smith went down. I brought the scope to Jenkins and fired again as he was raising his weapon. He went down. People screamed. Dr. Williams, holding the girl, spun around with a look of shock. He dropped to the ground covering the girl with his body. The driver jumped out of the limo with a weapon in his hand. As he aimed for Dr. Williams I fired. He went down.

   “Target is safe,” I said into my mic.

     I got up off the ground, placed my rifle in its case, and slung it over my shoulder. I stepped over the body and made my way down the other side of the hill. I heard sirens as I walked past the gravestones.

Afterword:

The exercise here was to take a simple setting, for example a man lying on a hill looking through a rifle scope, and try to undermine the reader’s expectations. The goal was to lead the reader in a different direction by not revealing the main character’s desire upfront, or by revealing a surprising motivation.

Things I learned:

In my first draft I had an extra scene in the beginning that kind of explains how the character got to the hill. I didn’t think that I could do this exercise without the extra scene. But by revising and revising again I was able to to keep it to one scene.

“Kill your darlings.” I had a line that I had a hard time cutting, a line I was so happy with when I first wrote it. By cutting the line and reworking the scene I came up with something better. Well, at least I hope I did.

Next: Setting Exercise Part 2