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"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." - Maya Angelou
I'm sure a lot of this share that special agony, me included. After not being able to access the internet for ten years, I now am eager to share the dozen or so stories that I wrote in long hand during that time. I had just gotten well into the first of those when hurricane Milton blew through and left us powerless for five days (sigh). Project number one is to finish the first of those, and probably pass it on to a kind editor, because I know my skills might be a bit rusty.
That was what I said in my last blog, then I disappeared for 10 years (not by choice). One of the first things I did when I got my internet access restored was to ask the nice folks at SOL if I could resume using my old author name, and they were kind enough to agree,so here I am, again. I've been rereading my old stories, since it's been a long time since I've seen them. Some of them are cringe-worthy, but others are good enough to encourage me to go ahead and start working on some of the dozen or so ideas that have been rattling around my head. BTW, just a reminder, if you are curious about those old stories, you will need to change your content access level to "Full".
"Exchange Student" is the first thing I have posted in awhile. My creative well kind of went dry. I'm trying to prime the pump by posting this short, goofy story. It does feel good to be back in the game, and hopefully I can turn this trickle of creative energy into a flowing stream.
This is my first blog entry in a LONG time, which is appropriate since 'Christmas Shopping!" is the first story I have posted in several months. I started this in 2008, intending it to be posted in time for the holidays that year. Didn't happen. I revisited it again late last year, almost finished the first draft, then got distracted by real/life events.
This year I promised myself that I would finish the darn thing, not only because it had been hanging around so long, but because it was the closest thing I had to a finished story, and I desperately wanted to post something before the end of what has been a very unproductive year.
I think my muse has awakened and is crawling out of the cave where she has been trapped all year, and I feel like writing again. Not promising anything, but I sincerely hope to get 6-8 stories out this year. I have about thirty(!) already started in my WIP folder, so all it should take is some self-discipline to meet that goal.
For those readers who like my stories, thanks for your patience. Here's to a Horny New Year!
Some stories come out easy, like a crack whore's fifth bastard. This was not one of those. For awhile I thought I might have to use forceps, or maybe even perform a c-section to get it out of my head.
I first began thinking about this about three years ago. Like a lot of the stories I was writing in those days, it was based on real events, and real people. When my daughter was a little younger than the girls in this story, maybe nine or ten, she introduced us to her new friend, Laura. Not long after, Laura had her first sleepover with us.
It didn't take long to discover that Laura was not like any other child I had ever been around. She was hyperactive, and way too physically demonstrative for a girl her age. She had no hesitation at plopping down in my lap if she wanted to ask me something, and some of her actions, although quite innocent, could easily have been misinterpreted as being seductive by someone with a slightly perverted point of view (Me, Me, cries the weirdo in the back of the room).
When I took her home the next morning and met her mother, it went pretty much as I described in the story. I thought I smelled pot as soon as I entered the house, and Laura's mother was acting either high or drunk. I talked with her for a few minutes while Laura showed my daughter her room, and in that short time she offered me a joint, and even made a pass - and this was at ten o'clock in the morning.
Needless to say, my wife and I discouraged that friendship, even though somehow Laura did end up spending the night once again a few months later. Shortly after that, she and her mother moved, and even though we never saw them again, they did stick in my mind.
When I began writing stories, I knew that at some point this would be the start of one of my dirty tales. My first attempt used the first-person pov, and it was pretty much just a narrative of what really happened. Needless to say, that wasn't nasty enough for an SOL posting. I started adding stuff that didn't really happen, and got about halfway through it when I decided to switch to third-person, because I wanted to get inside Susan and Laura's heads as well as Rick. I fiddled with that off and on for quite awhile, and almost gave up on it a couple of times.
Then a few weeks ago, I took another look and decided that the story was all about Rick, so why not let him tell it? I switched everything back to first person, and added the last couple of scenes, and finally -there it was.
Like I said, delivery is not always easy.
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