Mat Twassel: Blog

I'm not sure if I can do a better little story than "Quiet," which I've posted this morning. Of course I'm tremendously biased. I love all my stories, like children, even if they misbehave. One of the many things I especially like about "Quiet" is that the illustration at the end adds to the story in what I think is a good way, a perfect way.

So naturally I'm curious what the SOL reader reaction will be. I expect it to be mixed. Some readers seem to vote "1" on any of my stories with fewer than a thousand words. But I'm hopeful of some high scores too.

It's hard for me to think about scores without thinking about my story "Jazz," a long-time favorite of mine, and until my recent story "Tryst," the lowest rated of my stories. I have thought and thought about it, and I can't see anything wrong with "Jazz," but then I know very well that the author can easily see things that might not be there.

Tomorrow, music.

Playoff Quiz

As I understand it, this year the NBA playoffs will last from May 22 to July 22. Whew! What an ordeal! With that in mind, I've made this year's NBA playoff quiz just one question.

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Multiple Choice
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a. A commuter train fading into the distance. The sound doesn't quite go away. Time stretches to hold the last low moan.

a. A basketball bouncing on a cement driveway. Regular. Slow. A sharp hint of flat echo. Go ahead, take the shot. Will it be the silky sweet rip of ball through net? Or the ugly iron clank of ricochet? For right now all we get is bouncing. Endless bouncing.

a. The sigh of sex as penis skin slips through moist mucous-Ellen's welcoming cunt clamps Tom's cock. The first sly fuck squeak. There will be more.

Answer: __

Extra credit if you show your work.

Okay, here's the answer: On Bluebird Lane, several long blocks distant from the railroad route, one must listen attentively to catch the train sounds. Regardless, the 7:39 streams towards the city while Ariel Masters, bouncing her basketball in the driveway, waits for her mom to come out and give her a lift to school, and two doors down Tom and Ellen's intercourse assumes the steady rhythm of Ariel's dribble.

Tea plays an important part in both of my stories for today. I think tea appears twice as often as coffee. I did a search for coffee, and it turns out it appears in about 13% of the stories. Likely tea appears in twice as many, but it's hard to get a good count because tea is contained in tease.

Today I'm posting "Time Out," another look at redefining the second. It's very short, probably take less than 20 seconds to read-unless you're on Mars.

Yesterday I recommended caution for the two stories I posted, both in the description and the story codes. I'm not sure it did much good. As I expected, those who voted expressed distaste. For "Tryst," scores of 1, 2, and 3 outpaced scores of 8, 9, and 10 by about 3 to 1, with the result that this is by far my lowest rated story.

They say April is the cruelest month, so it may be fitting that the two stories I'm posting on the last day of April, "Pretty" and "Tryst," are if nothing else cruel. Certainly they are not pretty. I think I've coded them with warning enough that those who can't stand unhappy tales will not read these. Even so, I expect to get some mail to the tune of "What a sick fuck you are! Your stories suck and so do you. I won't be reading anything by you again."
Last night I thought seriously of pulling them from the posting queue. Maybe I should. I don't remember the impetus for writing either of these. That's not unusual. I write what comes to mind; it's as simple as that. I'm happy that most of the time the darker themes stay away. And when they don't, writing has at least a bit of cathartic effect.

Before the end of the day I will also post another illustrated definition of the second, as suggested by an SOL friend. I happen to know that it too might be unsettling.