Well another week has come and gone in the usual seven days.
We have been inundated with submissions but not many success stories. Only one about a guy who won an even money shot at the dogs. He loved the dog in an inappropriate way. The dog died. It was one of the more acceptable romances. It was called, ‘I Need To Stop And Walk Round To Give You A Kiss.’
It didn’t make it though, what can I say, romance is as romance does. It pisses off!
But no ranting this week guys, I am happy for the wonderful Tom Sheehan to take centre stage with a Saturday Special.
But first up, this week’s offerings.
We had two new writers and another three who have over thirty stories between them.
Our topics this week include; mini golf, a prisoner, an intolerance, the wrong one, confusion and a doorman.
As always our initial comments follow.
First up was Dave Henson.
This is the seventeenth time that this wonderful story teller has graced our site.
‘The Day I Was Up To My Alligator In Asses‘ was published on Monday.
‘Some good lines and a lovely disrespectful tone.’
‘I love the ‘Lotts wife’ line.’
‘The images he left us with moved this from light to memorable.’
On Tuesday we had the lovely Sharon Frame Gay.
‘Revolving Doors‘ was the fifth time that she has been published.
‘Poignant, sad and beautifully written.’
‘There are some excellent word choices throughout.’
‘This shows that life can be a bit maungy and glum.’
Doug Hawley is a regular on the site. I don’t think there are many who have such a dry sense of humour.
We were delighted to publish Doug’s ninth story.
‘Bike Killer‘ broke the back of the week on Wednesday.
‘The character depiction and tone was very good.’
‘I think this will leave all walkers and drivers with a bit of wishing devilment.’
‘I think I’ve probably met this guy.’
On Thursday we had our first new author.
We welcome Harrison Kim.
‘A Major Error In Judgement’ was next up.
‘This read like a nasty fairy tale and it’s strange to think on that with ideas of real life paranoia.’
‘I found this unsettling.’
‘A captivating but unpleasant character.’
And we finished off on Friday with another new writer.
We send the same welcome to Jerry Guarino. We hope that both our newbies have a long association with us and continue to send us their work.
‘The Old Fisherman‘ was the last story of the week.
‘This was very subtle.’
‘I thought the confusion was well done.’
‘The reveal was gentle which suited the tone and the subject matter.’
That’s us for another week folks.
The usual reminders.
Please keep commenting – Come on! Go for it! If you read this site, we would be delighted to read your voice.
And if you would like to introduce an older story that you’ve enjoyed, we will publish exactly what you say on our Sunday Re-Run feature.
OK – Back to Mr Sheehan!
Tom is an amazing writer who has been involved with the site since August 3rd 2015.
I remember reading his first story, ‘Swan River Daisy’ and I was blown away with the writing and imagery. That old steam boat has stayed with me since I first read it.
Tom makes us all feel inadequate and that can only be good. We can happily deal with that. All of us who write, celebrate and strive for a fraction of the quality of this author’s work. His life experience, family, regrets and passions are meticulously explored within his work.
This isn’t what we would class as a story and that is why it is a Saturday Special. But this is Tom’s 77th outing for us.
We can only be thankful for him letting us share his stories, humility and brilliance. Every writer should be jealous. But more importantly – Inspired!!
We are and always will be delighted to highlight any of our writer’s success, especially within the site and we know that all who know this craft will understand and be in awe of this in only a good way!
Guesswork for Stories by Tom Sheehan
Now I’m looking for a simple story line (or title and the real second part of a story) to write about, like a man wants to fish in a river that’s been condemned and wonders what he’ll do with the fish he catches; or a man wants to move into his brother’s house when his brother dies but the brother doesn’t want to oblige him though he’s on his last legs; or a man rides a train to work daily and doesn’t talk to anybody because he’s been trying to solve a puzzle for seven years and is frustrated by it; or an old gent in the next town has his eye on an old lady in town and continually passes by her house hoping she will invite him in, but she knows he’s planning down the road to get housing under her roof and she won’t have any part of it, but he is kind of cute to begin with; or a hunk of rock has long been sitting as a paperweight in big shot’s office and he has claimed for years that it’s a piece of meteorite that fell through his roof and just missed him in bed one dark night and one day a young geologist, at a meeting, spots the chunk and asks what it is and then replies what it truly is (some kind of rock from another valley or region like a chunk of Saugus jasper at the Cape), much to the consternation of the now bullshit bullshitter; or there’s an old boxcar on an old abandoned railroad siding in an also abandoned lumber company yard (like maybe Cliftondale Woodworking on Denver St or Hawkridge Bros Steel in Linden) and it’s been bolted/locked/welded shut for years, and now and then smoke appears from one corner and town officials find two brothers have been living in it for years and the entrance is underneath and they want them to pay taxes; or a girl sees a boy in a crowd and he has the face that’s been in her dreams continually for almost a year and she is in a panic because her mother/father are downstairs in the train station waiting for her and there has been trouble for young girls from strange men in the area; and one of the characters somewhere in this mess will be named Tylen Brookus as the name has been at the back of my mind for over a year. So, now into my 92nd year on this planet and my thought and creative processes all slowed down to a dribble, as they say, look to you, my friend, to get me on the proper road to creation. Or shall I take them one at a time? or go interview George Carnegie from Flask Rd., a retired firefighter who worked with me at the mushroom place years ago, and go on with my other updated submission of Fred Rippon’s mushroom house, whose start is around here somewhere waiting to be attached or attacked? Say what, deliberate reader?
Worried looking Boxer dog courtesy of Pixabay and especially for Hugh. dd