The Reluctant Rock Star (6S)

The venue was packed out.
The tickets were sold out.
My hair was blown out.
But... the songs were played out.
The band was burnt out, then, my voice went out.
How do I get out of here?

The Reaping (6S)

The impact was deafening. Dull thuds of pain spread from his eyebrows down to his cheeks and neck then rushed over his still body leaving tingling sensations to rest in the tips of his fingers and toes. From somewhere near he could hear staccato clips of sound, words maybe, building in volume and speed that somehow, he knew, was meant as a warning. Convinced that he had mere seconds to react, Remy rolled over onto his stomach and pushed up on his knees. Suddenly, a load of invisible pressure rested on him like an overstuffed laundry bag and pinned him to the cold ground. “Stay down Remy, or they’ll know we’re alive,” the other boy said.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat (6S)

In June of 2006 my son’s febrile seizures finally stopped jerking him around. I stopped crying that year too and found a place to dispose of my sackcloth and ashes. That annoying lump in my throat, yep, gone too. It really made a difference when I started writing songs again that I didn’t have to sing around it. The other day my wife calls me to say that it had all started again. I couldn’t believe it took 3 whole years to feel unsafe again.

THE PRAISE TEAM

Hey,

I am in the process of writing the first 3 chapters of my new blogopera, The Praise Team. Blogopera, (a word I think I coined) is a soap opera played out in blog form. I will be posting a new chapter every week for as long as I can. This should be a lot of fun. Stay tuned...

T4 (The "Twin" Final Chapter) (6S)

David and Donnie Gemelli’s mom, Camille, taught them to always stick together and to stick up for one another. When Delores Marconi’s boy, Jimmy, rolled away on David’s big wheel, it was Camille who sent her oldest, Donnie, careening (football style) into Jimmy, sending him flying into Carmine Costanza’s “Fine Ice Cream and Delectable’s” cart. On their 10th and 11th birthday, when the bakery sent over a cake with the words Happy Birthday Gemelli Twins written all over it, it was Camille who subtly suggested to Donnie and his friends that someone ought to give that bakery “a good egging.” So when her son David got himself into a little trouble down at the university with some little blond tramp, it was Camille who begged Donnie to take the fall for him, “David won’t last a night in the joint,” She said. Donnie’s funeral was the worst though, what with everyone in the neighborhood whispering about David in his sunglasses; that whore on his arm; and their little bastard son walking behind them, it was a wonder Camille got any grieving done at all. When Father Lahey began the prayer, Camille squeezed her eyes shut, in mock reverence, and managed to produce a single obligatory tear.

T3 (The "Twin" Part 3) (6S)

My hands are nearly raw from wringing them when he walks into the room. He’s still about thirty feet away but I can see that he looks like me walking toward myself in the mirror, where I’m a year older sporting an unkempt beard and a government-issued orange jumpsuit. We make haste to sit, as there is much to say, angry words looming just under the surface, a pair of chipped teeth nearly escapes my notice as he begins to speak. “I cannot believe you married her, after all this time I’ve spent in here, you go and marry her!” I’m thunderstruck, even with a practiced speech sitting on the tip of my tongue, caught of guard by his abruptness, I’m only able to manage a quiet I’m sorry. Suddenly he’s pulled out of his seat and led away by a guard for raising his voice, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I see my three-year-old son as he darts away from the play area and latches on to my brother's leg.

T2 (The "Twin" Part 2) (6S)

Katherine was surprised when the tiny hint of a giggle tumbled out of her mouth. Her entourage of twelve sorority sisters, six on either side of her, held up both her arms as she passed through the courtroom doors. The irony of their gesture dug holes in her cheeks, revealing dimples she hadn’t seen in more than a year. She was mere seconds away from daring a laugh when she spotted him sitting by himself in the center of the room, stone-faced and seemingly oblivious to the grim occasion. Suddenly halted by the scene, she couldn’t help thinking about how she had nearly ruined his life a year ago, and that he too, had endured so much at the hands of her voracious supporters, It really is a shame he looks so much like him, she thought.

The "Twin" (6S)

We were not twins.
We only looked alike, talked alike, had the same birthday, and dressed alike since we were 2 and 1. At 16 and 15, my mom had to bring our birth certificates to the DMV to prove that only one of us was getting our driver’s license. At 19 and 18 the birthmark on my chest proved I wasn’t the one who had raped our RA at the University. At 26 and 25 when I visited my brother in prison, I had to hum a special song in the ear of my three-year-old, so he would let my brother’s leg go and come home with me. At 30 and 29, when my brother was killed in a prison shower, I wore sunglasses to his funeral so people would stop looking at me like a ghost.

One For Me (6S)

They were the ugliest shoes Sharon had ever laid eyes on. “Those are exquisite, Maggie,” she lied, “you’re going to be a beautiful bride.” The bride quickly paid for the shoes, nodded a tearful thank you, and fumbled through her purse until she found an extra invitation. Outside the conference room door of her attorney’s office, Sharon paused to shake the remnants of a shredded wedding invitation into a wastebasket. She could hear David’s impatient voice carrying out into the hall, “Where is she,” he said, “I have to pick up Maggie in ten minutes.” Right then, she could feel a crooked smile spreading wide across her face as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Future (6S)

Their voices were raised to decibels unknown, quick, sharp voices speaking of a Future where I’m happier, safer and in another state. Mom is in this Future with me now. We drive Future’s big car and live in Future’s quiet house. Mom says I won’t ever have to cry again, that from now on my Future is bright. I watched, in horror, as her lips formed those words, tears lapping under my red cheeks. Trembling on my knees that night I prayed, to God, that Daddy would never have a Future.

6 Sentences

Ok, "readers" I have just discovered something that has been a tremendous asset to my writing. It’s called sixsentences.blogspot.com It’s a site that challenges you to write a complete story in just six (6) sentences, a complete story! This has helped me learn to scale down all the crap in a story and get down to the meat of it.

So now, until further notice, I will be posting my six sentence entries in my blog, along with other short stories and updates as it relates to me and my writing. Enjoy.

Here I Go

Ok here's the thing,

I started writing my book yesterday. It's been a long time coming and I'm glad it's finally here. Anyway, I am stuck.

I have a terrific story, with a fantastic setting and an awesome feel for the plot and where it's going. I just don't know what my style is. The book's got all the good stuff in it... love, action, discovery, coming of age, revenge, everything. It's will probably be a best seller. IF I EVER FINISH IT.

I like the way I write, I'm just not sure if I feel comfotable with what my style is yet. I love the simple words of the contempories of the 50's. I love the fast pace writing of some more modern writers. I even like the conversational (and comical) styles of your John Greens and your Hayley G. Hoovers.

I need help. Meanwhile, I'll keep writing and keep you posted.

Blog Extravaganza

Welcome one, welcome all.

What a pleasure it is, for me, to be able to express myself, (well, I never really had a problem expressing myself) What I probably meant to say is what a pleasure it is for me to be able to express myself to you, in this format, today, everyday... Well, you know what I mean.

There are lots of things you'll get from this blog, my friends. One of them being my opinion. Even if you didn't ask.. I'll be there to weed through all of the crap and give you the "truth" as I see it. People are always out there doing things so I'll be here to discuss them. You'll come to rely on this blog, I guarantee it, probably... You get the picture. Bye