“Greg? Greg… can…hear… me?”
Greg tapped his forehead twice in a vain attempt to strengthen the signal. “Yeah babe. But you’re breaking up.”
“G… Greg!”
“I’m gonna hang up Claire. I might get better reception when I’m back at home, sweetie.” Frustrated, Greg kept hitting his head. He didn’t really think it would work, but he was watching a program on his computer the other night, and the main character kept trying to get a better signal by constantly hitting himself in the head. It might have been for comedic purposes, or maybe a vague reference to the way that back in the early twenty-first century, people took to beating their technology in hopes of making it work. But it wasn’t the early twenty-first century at all...
I wrote this piece a few years back to enter into a contest for Motorolla or some other mobile company like that. Their new market strategy involved some buzzword along the lines of "integrated technology in the future", so they wanted creative works in all genres to represent the concept.
I just entered for the hell of it, I knew this wouldn't be what they were looking for. I'm not even sure I think that it's that great myself - I too the concept and ran with it, and this is what I came up with. Still though, there are more than a few parts of this story I kinda dig, so check it out.
It may not have won anything in the land of cell phones, but at least someone will get to read it this way.
Enjoy!
- Shawn
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Zebulon Pike Pierce
Before I get started this month, I owe whatever readers I have a sincere apology for a lack of... well... anything for October. My first excuse that on October 1st, I was traveling around China's Special Administrative Region. My other excuse is that I wanted to post something fresh for you, but I got caught up working on a bigger project that's too early to talk about.
But have no fear, it's a new month, and as a special treat, I have a brand new story that I literally finished yesterday. I'm sure there are still some kinks to iron out (maybe a new name is in order, not sure how I feel about the title) but all in all, I'm pretty happy with this one.
So again, sorry about last month. But without any further delay, I present to you the adventures of Zebulon Pike Pierce! I really hope you enjoy this one.
See you next month (I promise!),
- Shawn
But have no fear, it's a new month, and as a special treat, I have a brand new story that I literally finished yesterday. I'm sure there are still some kinks to iron out (maybe a new name is in order, not sure how I feel about the title) but all in all, I'm pretty happy with this one.
So again, sorry about last month. But without any further delay, I present to you the adventures of Zebulon Pike Pierce! I really hope you enjoy this one.
See you next month (I promise!),
- Shawn
Sunday, September 2, 2007
A Matter of Perspective
The gun was held firmly in my hand. I had it leveled right at his head and there was no way I would miss. The day’s events replayed through my head, but I forced myself to concentrate on what was going to happen within the next few seconds. It’s funny to think that clichéd action movie scenes such as this actually play out in real life, but I knew that there was no magical happy ending for this one… You would imagine that holding a gun at his head would put me in a place of dominance, but it’s really meaningless when he’s armed too, and his barrel is pointed straight as my head as well. The look of determination on both our faces was indication enough. I was going to die. But I was sure as hell going to take him with me.
I've been hard at work to give you few readers something brand new this month, but creative differences with my word processor and living in China will have to push that off until next month. Instead, I'll give you the exact opposite: possibly the first fully formed short story that I was really proud of. (Not including some stories about Voltron and the Ninja Turtles circa: 1990.)
I'm not sure how well it holds up all these years later, but there are still some elements of the story that I like. This may wind up getting completely redone somewhere down the line, but for now it can stand the way it is. Since I wrote this, it's undergone quite a few edits, but the one thing I've never been sure of was the ending. As presented here, I have what was basically the original ending to the story, but I'm going to ask whoever winds up reading this to please help me decide what to do.
The ending is presented on a separate last page. It's an extra paragraph that adds an extra twist to the whole story. When I was in High School, I thought it was a pretty neat twist, but now I wonder if the story isn't stronger without it. To honor my pimply High School self, I've left what remains of the original ending in, but have separated it from the story.
Which way do you think it reads better? Or does it suck both ways?
As always, comments about anything (typos, redundancies, spanish translations) are always welcome, but what I'm really looking for here is some closure on an ending that has been bugging me for years.
Hope you enjoy it,
- Shawn
I've been hard at work to give you few readers something brand new this month, but creative differences with my word processor and living in China will have to push that off until next month. Instead, I'll give you the exact opposite: possibly the first fully formed short story that I was really proud of. (Not including some stories about Voltron and the Ninja Turtles circa: 1990.)
I'm not sure how well it holds up all these years later, but there are still some elements of the story that I like. This may wind up getting completely redone somewhere down the line, but for now it can stand the way it is. Since I wrote this, it's undergone quite a few edits, but the one thing I've never been sure of was the ending. As presented here, I have what was basically the original ending to the story, but I'm going to ask whoever winds up reading this to please help me decide what to do.
The ending is presented on a separate last page. It's an extra paragraph that adds an extra twist to the whole story. When I was in High School, I thought it was a pretty neat twist, but now I wonder if the story isn't stronger without it. To honor my pimply High School self, I've left what remains of the original ending in, but have separated it from the story.
Which way do you think it reads better? Or does it suck both ways?
As always, comments about anything (typos, redundancies, spanish translations) are always welcome, but what I'm really looking for here is some closure on an ending that has been bugging me for years.
Hope you enjoy it,
- Shawn
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Black Hats
“Get out of my store. Now.”
“We are only here to…”
“I know why you’re here. Your buddies came in last week… tried to force me to…” The shop owner was livid.
“We force nothing on anyone.”
He wouldn’t let them muscle him. Not these guys. “Then get out.”
“Might I suggest…”
“Get out! Now!”
The three black clad men headed towards the door. “We think you should reconsider. This is your last warning.”
“Get out or I’ll call the cops. This is your last warning.”
The three men left.
Two minutes later, a flaming garbage can flew in through the window.
And so begins the 50+ page (double spaced) epic that I wrote in a day of doing nothing at my dead end job, probably around four years ago or so. This is a lot longer than the last story I posted, but rereading it recently, I really think it holds up. It's a lot of fun (I hope), and touches on some serious issues that I feel pretty strongly about. But if serious issues aren't your thing, the story features nerds and men in silly hats beating the holy hell out of each other. And if that doesn't sell it to you, then there is something seriously wrong with ya.
Just download the PDF from the box below and please, please, please leave a comment. Even to say that you dropped by the site and couldn't stomach the first page. Although if there's something you want to say about the story (or the last one for that matter), it'd be greatly appreciated.
Enjoy!
- Shawn
“We are only here to…”
“I know why you’re here. Your buddies came in last week… tried to force me to…” The shop owner was livid.
“We force nothing on anyone.”
He wouldn’t let them muscle him. Not these guys. “Then get out.”
“Might I suggest…”
“Get out! Now!”
The three black clad men headed towards the door. “We think you should reconsider. This is your last warning.”
“Get out or I’ll call the cops. This is your last warning.”
The three men left.
Two minutes later, a flaming garbage can flew in through the window.
And so begins the 50+ page (double spaced) epic that I wrote in a day of doing nothing at my dead end job, probably around four years ago or so. This is a lot longer than the last story I posted, but rereading it recently, I really think it holds up. It's a lot of fun (I hope), and touches on some serious issues that I feel pretty strongly about. But if serious issues aren't your thing, the story features nerds and men in silly hats beating the holy hell out of each other. And if that doesn't sell it to you, then there is something seriously wrong with ya.
Just download the PDF from the box below and please, please, please leave a comment. Even to say that you dropped by the site and couldn't stomach the first page. Although if there's something you want to say about the story (or the last one for that matter), it'd be greatly appreciated.
Enjoy!
- Shawn
Monday, July 2, 2007
Hero
Today I almost died.
Jeff Porter looked at what he had typed on his laptop screen and hit the backspace key. He knew he wanted to write about it. He felt as though he needed to write about it. But he didn’t feel like the first person narrative was the way to go, even though the story of his brush with death this morning was undoubtedly a personal one.
Vance Marco laughed in the face of death.
This opening line was left as is. Something about replacing himself with a made up character made Porter feel like he would be able to write something substantial. Writing was cathartic for him. He knew full well that if he ever wanted to move past what happened, he would need to write about it. But Jeff Porter was an author, not a teenage girl, so this didn’t need to be a diary entry.
Vance Marco laughed in the face of death. At least, he always thought he would have. So it came as no surprise to him that he let loose something akin to an excited school-girl giggle as he tackled the man holding him at gunpoint. With a swift sweeping motion, Marco knocked his assailant’s legs out from under him. It wasn’t until the gunshot went off that he realized he would have to check his devil-may-care attitude and worry about everyone else in the liquor store.
He briefly glanced around and cased the scene. There were four other customers. A middle aged couple, and a mother with her young son. He had no idea what the mother thought she was doing with her son in the liquor store. Didn’t she know what a healthy dose of whiskey could do to a young man’s life? Vance Marco did, but having beaten back his own alcoholic demons, he laughed in the face of that too.
There was also the shopkeeper, but he was already dead, having tried to pull a gun on the large man in the ski-mask. One was dead already, and Vance Marco was going to make sure that there was one more corpse before the night was over. His attacker’s.
“You’re writing about it baby?”
Porter turned around and looked at his wife. He nodded silently.
“That’s good Jeff. Real good. It’ll help.”
Being married to a shrink was a mixed back for Porter, but right now, it helped. He knew she was right, she always was. Unfortunately he also knew that it would take a long time. “Hopefully.” He muttered. “Hopefully it’ll at least start to help.”
“I know we talked about it already, but if you wanted to talk about it some more… you know I’m always here for you baby. Always.” She paused a bit. “And I won’t even charge.”
The weak psychiatrist humor cracked Porter’s darkened demeanor, but only momentarily. “Thanks Ali, I know it. But right now, I just need to… I dunno… work this out.”
“Of course.” Alison nodded understandingly. “I’m not going anywhere, but I’ll heat up dinner. The Chinese from two nights ago work for you?”
Porter nodded absentmindedly as he went back to his writing....
Like what you're reading? Think it's already pretty weak but want to see what's going on anyway? If so, just click the download link below for a fully formated PDF of the story.
The purpose of this website is for me to get my writing out to people who I think might like it, or at least be able to give me legitimate feedback. Hopefully, the purpose of this site can eventually change into an online portfolio of sorts... but who knows. One thing at a time. First my friends and family, then the world.
So click away, and let me know what you think in the comments section below!
Thanks for reading,
Shawn
Jeff Porter looked at what he had typed on his laptop screen and hit the backspace key. He knew he wanted to write about it. He felt as though he needed to write about it. But he didn’t feel like the first person narrative was the way to go, even though the story of his brush with death this morning was undoubtedly a personal one.
Vance Marco laughed in the face of death.
This opening line was left as is. Something about replacing himself with a made up character made Porter feel like he would be able to write something substantial. Writing was cathartic for him. He knew full well that if he ever wanted to move past what happened, he would need to write about it. But Jeff Porter was an author, not a teenage girl, so this didn’t need to be a diary entry.
Vance Marco laughed in the face of death. At least, he always thought he would have. So it came as no surprise to him that he let loose something akin to an excited school-girl giggle as he tackled the man holding him at gunpoint. With a swift sweeping motion, Marco knocked his assailant’s legs out from under him. It wasn’t until the gunshot went off that he realized he would have to check his devil-may-care attitude and worry about everyone else in the liquor store.
He briefly glanced around and cased the scene. There were four other customers. A middle aged couple, and a mother with her young son. He had no idea what the mother thought she was doing with her son in the liquor store. Didn’t she know what a healthy dose of whiskey could do to a young man’s life? Vance Marco did, but having beaten back his own alcoholic demons, he laughed in the face of that too.
There was also the shopkeeper, but he was already dead, having tried to pull a gun on the large man in the ski-mask. One was dead already, and Vance Marco was going to make sure that there was one more corpse before the night was over. His attacker’s.
“You’re writing about it baby?”
Porter turned around and looked at his wife. He nodded silently.
“That’s good Jeff. Real good. It’ll help.”
Being married to a shrink was a mixed back for Porter, but right now, it helped. He knew she was right, she always was. Unfortunately he also knew that it would take a long time. “Hopefully.” He muttered. “Hopefully it’ll at least start to help.”
“I know we talked about it already, but if you wanted to talk about it some more… you know I’m always here for you baby. Always.” She paused a bit. “And I won’t even charge.”
The weak psychiatrist humor cracked Porter’s darkened demeanor, but only momentarily. “Thanks Ali, I know it. But right now, I just need to… I dunno… work this out.”
“Of course.” Alison nodded understandingly. “I’m not going anywhere, but I’ll heat up dinner. The Chinese from two nights ago work for you?”
Porter nodded absentmindedly as he went back to his writing....
Like what you're reading? Think it's already pretty weak but want to see what's going on anyway? If so, just click the download link below for a fully formated PDF of the story.
The purpose of this website is for me to get my writing out to people who I think might like it, or at least be able to give me legitimate feedback. Hopefully, the purpose of this site can eventually change into an online portfolio of sorts... but who knows. One thing at a time. First my friends and family, then the world.
So click away, and let me know what you think in the comments section below!
Thanks for reading,
Shawn
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