She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XVI)

Posted on June 28, 2013 by R. Richardsson

Disclaimer

The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog. While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience. Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections. Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author. Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts!

———-

He reached over to the towel rack with his right hand, while his left turned the water off in the faucet. Though there was no light in the room, he could only just make out his features in the mirror before him. He studied the shape of his face quietly as he wrung his hands dry, thankful that he had the cover of darkness to hide his shame.

There was only a half of an hour between now and the time he was supposed to meet Lucy at the theater and he entertained the thought of calling to reschedule the date for another night. He felt weak, disconnected from his usual self and he wasn’t entirely sure that going out right now was the right thing for him to be doing.

As he returned the towel to its rightful place, he came to a decision. She would understand, she had to. After all, how many times did anyone ask her out anyways? It wasn’t like she had made any plans. More than likely, she would have spent the night doing the same thing she had been when he’d called to invite her.

He left the bathroom on trembling legs and returned to his room. The things he usually carried in his pockets; wallet, keys and cellphone, where sitting on the nightstand by his bed, and it was the latter of the items that he was looking for. Unplugging his phone, he opened the call log and scrolled down to her number. He was about to press the send button when his screen lit up and the ringtone for his sister began yelling;

“Bitch Alert! This is a Bitch Alert. You have an incoming call from a real Bitch!”

It startled him so much that he jumped, nearly dropping the phone, and the ringtone played its message two more times before he swiped the answer button.

“H-hello?”

“Hey twerp. I know you’re probably on your way to Lucy’s house, but I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you and to wish you good luck!”

He could hear her friends chattering in the background and from the other sounds on her end of the line, he also figured that they were in a car as well.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“I’m serious! Listen, I know that you’re probably nervous and you may have even thought about calling the date off, but don’t, okay? Chances are, she’s just as nervous as you are. Just show up and be yourself. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

It was weird hearing her say something nice to him, even weirder still that it was advice for the date he was about to go on, and he didn’t know how to answer her.

“Scott?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good, I thought I’d lost you. Listen; I’m probably going to lose you soon, but I’m glad you answered.”

He smiled and for the moment, the events of the past hour were forgotten.

“Me too.”

“Hey, I know you don’t like to do it, but I left in such a hurry I forgot. Could you take Tippy out back before you go? I’m not going to be back until late and I know she won’t make it until then.”

“I already did,” he answered much calmer than he expected. It wasn’t much of a stretch; she WAS out back, after all.

“Thanks bro! Have….ood….ime….”

The line went dead, disconnected by the distance between them and he pushed the sleep button on side before shoving it into his pocket. He smiled and shook his head, amazed at the difference in their relationship over the last few days as he glanced over to his clock..

Eighteen minutes before he was supposed to be at there.

“Shit!”

He left the house running.

A Valuable Lesson

Posted on June 15, 2013 by R. Richardsson

Sometimes you have to learn the hard way. Sure, I know the story. You just wrote your first book(s) and you think you are ready to get it published. Of course you do! You just spend hundreds (thousands?) of hours pouring your heart and soul into your work. Nothing could possibly be wrong with it, right?

Of course not, because you are perfect in every way and in everything that you do. You never make any mistakes and whenever you put your mind to doing something, you do it right every…

BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

*ahem*

I’m sorry, that was just positively rude of me, now wasn’t it…?

Seriously though, you should really go back over your work. Do it a little at a time, or all at once, but above all else, just do it okay?

Listen. I know the feeling. You’ve just created this fantastic world and it’s chocked full of originality you are literally itching to share. But here’s the thing. It’s not done yet. Go on, take a look. I promise you that you’ll find my words to ring true!

No matter how careful you are, you are going to make mistakes. Hell, maybe you’ve made a few! If you are anything like me, you write to keep up with the flow of the story. In that case, you’re going to find that you made a lot more mistakes than you thought (possible).

You see, the funny thing about writing; once you get in the groove, you are only going to see the words that your imagination is supplying you. You may think you wrote them correctly, but in truth, you are only seeing what you want to. Go on…see for yourself.

Really. How many times must I poke and prod at you?

Read it over with a critical eye. You’ll be surprised at what you find. Then, when you are done? Do it again.

Okay, so maybe it sounds like I have a little experience with this. The truth is; I’m no more experienced than any other kickstart writer! Sure, I do have a novella and its novel sequel published, but that doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly become a master of the literary arts!

On the contrary, I’m still learning something new every day.

My most recent flub came with an update of my novel; The Hunter Reborn. I had made some changes to the manuscript and added in some new content. What I hadn’t done was go back over the work I had completed. If I had, I would have found that I had done all of this to an older version. And you know what happened next? I somehow saved it over the newest version, which was the edited and completed edition that I had used for publish.

…..

I know, right?

But, here’s the thing. It could have easily been avoided, IF, I had gone back over my work beforehand!

A critical eye, I tell you. Dig that sumbitch out of that dusty ole corner of your mind, fasten it right in the center of your forehead and really analyze your work.

Okay, so maybe you DID get all errors taken care of. Maybe you DON’T have any grammatical mishaps floating around and maybe, just MAYBE you have perfectly punctuated your every sentence. Great! That’s awesome!

But I bet you think of a different way to describe something along the way, thus improving or adding to the richness of your work!

One of the hardest things to do with your work is not finishing it, but rather, being able to know when you are done. That, is the real trick.

And to tell you the truth, I don’t think a writer’s work is ever done. Sometimes you just have to know when to walk away as well.

Either way, it’s never after you are finished writing. Trust me, your work has only just begun.

She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XIII)

Posted on June 12, 2013 by R. Richardsson

Disclaimer

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author. Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts!

———-

“I just don’t know Scott, maybe we should get you to the hospital…”

“I’m FINE mom. Really. I think I just worked a little too hard is all.”

He sat on the edge of his chair at the dinner table, hunched over, with his head between his legs. He ached from the inside out and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Across the table, his mom let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re NOT fine Scott. You haven’t been acting like yourself for weeks, you’re having headaches almost every day and now this? What is going on with you?”

The question hung in the air importantly, demanding an answer he didn’t have, and when she realized that it wouldn’t be forthcoming she threw her hands into the air and turned toward the kitchen window.

“I know things have been tough since your father left…”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said; You. Don’t. Know. Anything! Did you hear me that time?”

“I think you better watch your tone, mister. I’m still your mother and you WILL respect me!”

“Go on, tell her.”

He sat up very slowly, partially because he wasn’t sure of what would happen, but mostly because he wanted the dramatic effect it would have. He was angry. His heart ached for a time when his family was whole, but was heavier still knowing that it would never be so, again.

“He left because you drove him away,” he said quietly. His voice was almost inaudible and if it wasn’t for the shock that was beginning to register on her face, he would have thought that she hadn’t heard her.

“A good start, but you can do better.”

“You care more about your work than you do for us.”

“How…how can you say that,” she gasped.

“Simple. For years you’ve only spoken of false promises, filling our heads with vacations that would never come to be. We would tell you about how much we missed you and then you would say you would take us to the park or something to make up for the missed dinners, birthday parties, or whatever.”

“Scott, that’s not fair,” she said weakly.

“No? And what do you call what you did to us?” He paused long enough to take a breath. “So, how can I say that you drove him away? If you were so goddamn busy that you couldn’t spend any of your free time being a mother, then how the HELL could you even be a good wife?”

“That’s enough,” she finally erupted. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, pouring from eyes now filled with pain and anguish.

“Everything I have done has been for this family and you know it!”

“Oh really,” he asked mockingly.

“You’re damn right, mister, and you have some NERVE talking to ME that way.”

“Good. Now you have her right where I want her.”

“You have some nerve calling this,” he gestured wildly, “a family,” He spoke through his teeth, and as he did he placed both hands on the table and pushed himself to a standing position.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“We’re done here. I have somewhere to be tonight.”

“We’re not done until I say we’re done!”

“Oh yeah,” he asked. His voice rose, drawing the word out at the end.

“Sit your ass-”

At that moment, however, her pager began to buzz on the table and both turned to watch as it moved a little from the vibration. She slowly reached for it, both of them knowing that the number on its screen was from her work, and when she looked up he was gone. His footsteps echoed through the house as he ascended the stairs two at a time. When he got to his room, he closed the door and leaned his head against it, gasping through tears of his own.

“Oh god, don’t be a pussy Scott. She had it coming.”

“…shut up,” he answered weakly.