Another Story

Sorry my post is late this month. I have not given up.

I have another story to add to my next book of short stories; “More Struggles”. It just came into my mind, as do all my stories.

“So. Phillip, You’re behind in your goals again aren’t you? Now you think this ‘new story’ stuff should excuse your procrastinations.” you scold.

I understand your pain but the work is still moving forward and that is what is important right now. Moving. It is difficult to build and then keep momentum with our all consuming weekend schedule. Church takes most of our Sunday.

But here are the stories/Chapters as they stand now.

1. “A Hunting We Will Go.”  Keep the kleenex close.
2. “Beyond the Pale”  “You did not go there?” Oh yes I did.
3. “Natural Law”   or “How to Earn Extra Credit”
4. “The Charter”  Will leave your mouth agape in...
5. “Story Time”  Cute.
6. “The Dream”  “I can’t wait for your next book.” you will be saying to yourself.
7. “Wolves”  “Didn’t see that coming.” you will huff.

Stories yet to be transcribed:

• “Life on the Farm”
• “Partisans of the Blue; The Dauntless Recruits” The first of three.

Stories in the making:

• “Chuck Hammer Rebooted; Loyalty’s Fertile Soil”
• “Partisans of the Blue; #2

More on November 1st and a mid-November excerpt unless I experience a significant disruption in my life. I promise.

September Goal

Yes. I will have my next book of short stories completely transcribed, the equivalent of a second draft, this month. A couple of those stories will be further along than others. I will then seek out some professional feedback; October at the latest. Perhaps I will include some of my longer works if I get them into the word processor.

As I have mentioned before, committing to a platform for writers, such as Reedsy, can enable one to push on. It is like a tiny little ‘voice in the ear support group’ when there is no one else to support you.

Finding good writing, very finely written sentences, is also enlightening. It is why a writer will read. On our limited budget I have been suffering through some not so great books.

I found one book with exquisite sentences that was a joy and an inspiration to read. I found this book through Bookplex. I write many reviews. I hope my input is appreciated. (see my book reviews tab) For a few reviews I have been paid, not only in some token dollars but in the opportunity to read a higher quality of writing. I choose only the books from Bookplex that interest me and they in turn just want the straight truth, your honest opinion. I am looking forward to the day when I can find a book I can really tear apart and then …get paid for doing it.

The pay isn’t much but if you are reading anyway it is a good way to get a few bucks here and there.

Big decision. The short story “Beyond the Pale” will be completed for my next volume of short stories. Because of the dark and controversial nature of the story, complete in my head before I began to write anything, I was contemplating not finishing it at all. What change my mind? A news broadcast, which covered certain recent events in Turkey, sealed the deal. I was overwhelmed with the conviction that I must complete this story.

The opening to “Beyond the Pale” is a few posts back on this blog. (it is a first draft so excuse the errors) Does revealing why I will now complete this story give you any clues as to the crime of Captain John Orr. Does the fact that his wife’s name is Dorothy and his lawyer's name Alice give you any clues as to the nature of the tale?

To Write

To write. As we head into one of the last straight a ways of our life, to write is about all I have left to provide for any future that begins to resemble the achievement of a dream. At least in a financial sense. The economy, this depression we’ve been in, along with good old fashioned bigotry has left us getting by, just.

To write. I am confident, if not in our economic future then, certainly in providing for our retirement; maybe. On the verge of putting out a slew of stories we’ll see if I can stand up to muster; get some professional editing and marketing, always expecting the best. Then again that cost money just to get it all moving.

“Money talks, …but it don’t sing and dance and it don’t walk”

To write, one of many tasks before me. The determination for this new month is to write something everyday, if only to transcribe my notebooks to Word.

To write. I have a house to restore, a garden to tend to, a life of faith with disciplines joyfully taken up, a small business to run, a profession I continuously attempt to re launch and the various ins and outs of life, such as eating, to maintain. Still if I can write everyday the depth of my existing, yet to be published, work shall begin to blossom forth.

To write. Getting it done. Setting the goals and accomplishing them is important. But there is something that all achievers, self help and motivational speakers profess as centrally crucial. That is the individuals you have around you; individuals that spur you on to greatness.

There lies the most daunting of works before me; to build a support community. Too many around me, and in my profession of architecture, perceive any success I may achieve as a threat, and too few are willing to stand up for me in the many struggles of my life. I always expect great things from myself, unfortunately I may be the only one.

The consideration I show others, the love of enemy and putting the well-being of others before my own, are hidden from view; outweighed by the short comings and the tragedies of my life, many of which I have just begun to unravel. Sometimes none of it makes sense. But I can always write.

And sometimes I like to draw.

Software

Ugh. Am I late again with my monthly post. The holiday filled my mind with plans.

I found this software site promotion, for Shaxpir, posted on my Facebook page. A word processing program designed just for writers? Well, it cost a monthly subscription fee, admits to software bugs still being worked out on in its own blog, and I cannot find any review or critique of their product by anyone other than themselves. I did an Internet search. I checked the C/Net app on my Roku. There just isn’t an objective review of their product out there.

Shaxpir sounds like a great idea. It is a software I was hoping the Reedsy’s platform would eventually morph into. I don’t like working with Microsoft Office 20 whatever something version I have. I have an older Office 98 which I find much more navigable; I can find the functions I want easily without searching through every command bar. Makes you wonder, with the dawn of self publishing, why Microsoft Office does not have a writer’s mode, where only features designed to help in the production of a book would be front and center in an easily understood format. They are focused on a bigger market I guess, catering to the business world.

The most needed element of software for writers is the ability to track the personal traits of your characters. A central file, usually a sheet of paper for me, to keep track of physical attributes, so the character's eye color doesn’t change scene by scene, their personal histories and any other quirks you give your characters to make them unique and interesting among the sea of character you may be developing. From my casually perusing of Shaxpir they are well aware of the importance of such a feature and make a  point of highlighting it.

I would love to try such a platform but have my reservations for this first attempt to cater to the writer in us all. I also question the wisdom of intellectual property still to be published being held in the cloud or developed on the Internet in any way.

Further looking into Bookplex, I see that they have an offers page with a list of free e-books. Have you ever searched Amazon for a book, their free promotions, and found it difficult to get a list of only the free promotions? You’ll find a nice limited selection at the link above.

July 12th is fast approaching for all you Amazon Prime members.

My focus at this point is to meet my next collection of short stories deadline, while advancing my other works, each a bit. As the book of short stories begins to coalesce I will push for the completion of my other works one by one as I advance the next epic Chuck Hammer, a true  saga.

Software such as Shaxpir would be an immense help with such a large spectrum of characters making up the Lunar Colony that is the scene for the Chuck Hammer sequel. This is a jump to a trilogy that will end on Mars. I may go back in short story or novella format (or graphic novel) to fill in Chuck Hammer’s earlier years.

Thank you for reading. I am not sure if I will have a mid-month clip from one of my stories. After publishing the next book of short stories I plan to sell my first three published works as a set: a real bargain. A novella and novel will quickly follow. The first step in a serious marketing strategy.

Beyond the Pale

From my upcoming book of short stories; "More Struggles". First draft.

I hate. I hate today like no other. I hate that weak minded vindictive fools could possibly stand in judgement of me; John Orr. I'm a man in my prime. I was in full stride to success, a captain, respected and accomplished in the eyes of all. I had friends.

Sure, I'm not the most attractive guy. My hair has never done what I wanted, but it's blond. My well rounded face is cursed with a bony brow and large nose. Still, my chiseled jaw and solid chin combine for a look that makes anyone think twice before taking me on. Then again, my 250 lb classic V shaped frame may have something to do with that. My hands are thick and calloused. My legs solid as tree trunks.

Forget that. I'm damn attractive and any woman would die to be at my side. "Ha!"

I worked hard my entire life; fought for everything I have. Yet, if not tomorrow, soon all my outstanding physical attributes will lie still and ineffectual. So I've heard. My body will eventually rot away, soon to be forgotten forever.

I am Captain John Orr: killer, mass murderer, psychopath. Sure, the verdict isn't in, but I'm not contesting my crimes. I have no regrets over the lives I've taken. I'd do it again.

"Beyond the pale. Crimes beyond the pale." That's what that fool of a judge has been say'n since the trial began. I can't imagine impartiality has ever been his strong suit.

Who knows, they may come for me tonight, in the dark, unwilling to wait for the scales of justice to balance. They only await a verdict to validate my crimes before all the world before they make their move. But haven't they got that already? The whole world agrees. It's all over every news service. Why should they wait any longer? Why should I care anymore?

After I'm dead, only the virtuous acts that may have momentarily graced my life, along with my many sins, will comport my future state of being. How can I deny the justice in that?

Does the cell door really sound that loud from the inside? Or is my mind playing tricks on me? The clunking of key and lock; is it simply the abhorrence of captivity that magnifies such sounds to excruciating volumes? The noise of my door opening reverberates hollow off the walls of my cell?

"Get up Orr." Sergeant Archibald Gatsby barks in his bland unconcerned mid-western grumble.

"It's a bit early, isn't it?" I ask. The sergeant stands tall before me, his shoulders slightly hunched with age. I've known the man some fifteen years. He puts his Teutonic ancestors to shame in both build and valor. His age wrinkled face only makes his hard angular features all that more fearsome. "Are they that anxious to get rid of me?"

"You have a visitor." Gatsby answers his eyes uncharacteristically show slight signs of heartache.

Two measly examples of the county's finest step in after him, one an Asian of some sort and the other black. The two young officer's eyes widen at the sight of me. Their faces droop into an embarrassing stupor. 'If only they could see themselves.'

I'm sitting on the edge of my bunk. I leap up and take one, just one, quick lurch of a step forward. "Who are these newbies?" I sneer as the two young officers duck back out the doorway. One fumbles for his nightstick. The other drops the shackles, my shackles, in a clatter of steel upon the concrete floor of the detention facility.

"Leave them alone Orr." Gatsby sighs.

"You're not afraid of me Gatsby, are you?" I muse as I size up the two deputies.

"I've seen too much to be afraid of much of anything." He tries to convince me.

"You mean you're too old to care anymore." I huff back.

"You might have something there." Gatsby admits folding his arms across his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall.

The two deputies re-present themselves in defiant posture. I stare them down. Their mouths open but the audible part of their words escape them.

Legs shoulder width apart. Hands out in front." Gatsby orders as if talking to himself.

The deputies proceed in their duties with obvious trepidation. Funny the things that will make you smile.

"If they take any longer with my jewelry here visiting hours will be over." I scoff at the jittery deputies as they try for the third time to secure my chains. The cold of the waist chain chills my skin through my one piece orange fashion wear.

"She'll wait." Gatsby slides a cutting look my direction.

'Note to self; I hate Gatsby.' as I feel my gut knot.

I hate shackles. I hate the shackle shuffle, yet I shuffle down the corridor. It looks like you're trying too hard to try to just plain walk, so I shuffle. My head high shoulders back I shuffle. I shuffle like no one's shuffled before. I man can feel proud over something like that.

Gatsby throws open the interview room door and steps back with a smirk.

I shuffle around into the doorway, "Hey there doll." I smile wondering if she will ever understand. I am her husband after all. I tried to tell her, but here she is again. You'd think she understand by now with her fragrant soft flowing ivory skin, ...voluptuous breasts. I see them covered only in her long brown waves of hair, her brown eyes gazing upon me in heavenly glow.

"Sit down." Gatsby shatters my dream.

I sit, leering at a memory. "Really?" I confront Gatsby as he looks to secure my chains to the table.

"Really."

I let him chain me down. "Now get lost." I rip.

"Just holler if you need me Dorthy." Gatsby consoles as he steps out.

"Thank you Archie." Dorthy answers in the soft sweetness of denial. She sits still and silent her tender gaze attempting to lock upon mine, but I wont let it. Gatsby closes the door.

I look up at the camera in the ceiling. "Just can't stay away, can you doll."

What are Captain Orr's crimes? You'll have to buy the upcoming book to find out. I hope to be releasing this collection of six short stories in September.