Technical writers or non fiction writers scribble to pay the bills and for the love of the analytical or the exercise of truth or deception.

Fiction authors write to illuminate their world or escape it.

Whichever kind of writer, it's all about staying alive and helping or entertaining others.

The Writing Life

Like most writers, I have a love of reading and the power of words. When I was younger, I read everything I could get my hands on, but I don’t consider myself well read. I consumed books like a starved person, so quickly I hardly knew what I had read. By some strange process of osmosis, I learned from everything I read, but I cannot give you an erudite discussion of characters, plots, or authors. I can only tell you it’s lodged some where in the core of my being and informs my writing.

In addition to reading, I’ve spent a life time writing---from that first elementary school composition to my college days when I studied French literature and wrote explications de texte. Along the way, I fell into technical writing--to put food on the table and pay bills. In the 90s, I had the good fortune to take a dialog class with Sol Stein, former owner of Stein & Day publishers in New York and a prolific author. That led to his California-based writers’ group, Chapter One. It was a rigorous, ego-bruising experience, but I was intent on learning everything I could about fiction writing. A few years ago, I also had the good fortune to study with another writer, Louella Nelson, an experienced romance writer and teacher of fiction writing. She provided a different perspective and balance to my writing.

My novel, DREAMING OF LAUGHING HAWK, a mainstream, Sixties era novel, is available on Amazon in print and ebook (also available in Canada, Europe, Japan, and Brazil). Download a free sample. If you like it, I hope you'll download the book and post a review on Amazon.

Monday, March 2, 2015

A Short Story: Running Away (Part 3)

Jack

She left me a letter, a proclamation of the wrongs I supposedly committed, a declaration of freedom. All about her. It’s always about her. I know she’s hiding out somewhere with family or friends. She cleaned out the checking account so I guess I can be sure that no serial killer has finished her off. I’m disappointed--in serial killers. I’ve got a right to be angry when she pulls this shit. If she wants to run away, fine, but without my children. She’s not getting the children and she’s not getting my money either. I can promise her that.

I knew something was up when she stopped arguing with me. I’m not a hitter, but I really felt like decking her when she started with the silent treatment.

It wasn’t always like this between us, but with time she seemed to develop an attitude of disrespect. She was pretty once, but honestly, I can’t look at her anymore. I’ve mapped every freckle and flaw. Lora turns me off. I don’t know who she is anymore. I can’t remember why I chose her. She has broken my life and I can no longer see myself when I look in the mirror. Neither one of us has a face anymore.

So I’ve filed a missing person’s report and now I’ll hire a private investigator. When I finish with her, she'll wish she was dead.

To be continued

4 comments:

  1. Made your brussel sprouts, pear and shallot recipe tonight. Delicious. If Jack ate some of that, he
    might mellow a little;)

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    Replies
    1. Glad you enjoyed the recipe (available on lindakatmarian.com). Jack needs to try the kataiffi - no man can resist it. :-)

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