Unfinished Tales

 

Some projects never quite get off the ground, while others get quite far along before something happens and they just don’t… quite… finish. Every writer has folders full of such unfinished material. Sometimes we call it “research,” or maybe “experimental,” or perhaps simply “abandoned.”

Usually it never sees the light of day, but later we may come back and re-read some of these old stories, and, if we’ve grown as writers, perhaps cringe at the terrible prose. Alternatively, sometimes some of the writing holds up quite well, but only in bits and pieces, and the plot as a whole just doesn’t pan out. We tell ourselves, “I’ll use that in something else later,” and maybe it will happen, but usually it doesn’t. If it does, it only feels forced, quite obviously something we just couldn’t let go of and had to cram in somewhere, and unless we’re very clever readers will spot it easily.

So, instead, for your reading displeasure I will post selected scenes from unfinished and abandoned works. These are raw, unedited, and definitely incomplete. If it feels like something is missing, that’s because it is; entire scenes are left out, meant to be worked on later, but later never came.

Of course, the abandoned work-in-progress that immediately comes to mind is Switch, the story of a young woman on a journey of self-discovery, unsure of what she is looking for, only knowing she hasn’t been finding it.

Here, in the opening scene where we first meet Olivia, she is breaking up with her most recent boyfriend, as things lack a certain oomph. It won’t take long before she wonders if perhaps everything has just been a little too vanilla in her relationships, and what she needs is something spicier. Her search for spice, however, won’t always go according to plan…

Switch: “It’s Not You, It’s Me”

Partners and Crime – The Full Story

Image credit: Natalia Hubbert / shutterstock.com

Image credit: Natalia Hubbert / shutterstock.com

For those of you who read and enjoyed those three early short installments, long ago, of Partners and Crime, the erotically-charged tale about two police officers who start out not exactly liking each other very much, your wait is over. I have now published it, but not, as I once said I would, anywhere external, but right here.

I actually decided, nearly a year ago, to abandon this story, as creatively I had moved on. For a long time I felt it just needed too much rework to be worthy of anything more, and my heart wasn’t in it to do that. So, the pages languished on my laptop for the past eleven months, until now. No, I haven’t done all the rework, though I did clean up a few spots of poor phrasing. However, after months away from it, rereading it now convinced me that it isn’t as horrible as I imagined, and that just maybe it might be a decent bit of story.

So, what started as a thousand-word piece of unfinished flash fiction, that grew to a three-thousand word piece of serial fiction, is now a twelve-thousand word short story.

A word of caution: this tale is far more explicit, definitely only for those 18+, than anything I’ve previously published in these pages. However, I hope that you’ll find it artfully so.

Partners and Crime

Flash Fiction!

 

The second piece of the great remodel is ready: the Flash Fiction page! For the moment, three of my earlier works appear there, and I invite you to head over and enjoy these tasty morsels that I’m looking forward to sharing with you: You Are Mine, about a woman who doubts herself and with a delicious little twist at the end; You’re The One For Me, which reminds us how love is timeless and ageless; and I’ll Be Home For Christmas, in which a frustrated hostess receives a gift from her absent but clever husband.

And, stay tuned, as there will be more to come!

Poetry!

 

Yes, I know I’m moving slowly, but I have finished the first piece of the great remodel. The Poetry page is ready! So far, everything in it is work that I’ve published previously in this blog, although most of it was in late 2014 and the most recent was a year ago. So, unless you’re dedicated enough to drill through the category links, those pieces would be a little hard to find now, except for this reorganization.

So, if you haven’t seen them before, head on over and have a look, and hopefully you’ll like what you see. If you have read them already… well, head over anyway! Most, though not all, have some sort of romantic angle to them, whether it’s finding love or it’s heartbreak and loss. Looking back, I can see that I have a bit of a fascination with color and light, as well as mountains and travel. Two have a bit of a science-fiction feel to them, and one is a little bit steampunk, so maybe there’s something for every poetry lover out there?

See for yourself: Poetry

Coming soon, another page to gather up my flash fiction, serial short fiction, and excerpts.

Remodeling

 

Happy New Year, everyone!

In with a new year, and in with a slightly different look and feel. I’m going to reorganize the website just a bit, so that the creative works I write (and have written) are collected into pages, so that hopefully it’s a little easier to find things. This is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, and now it’s time. However, I’ll be feeling my way about a bit as I create pages and menus and move prior posts into them, so for those of you getting notifications, please accept my apologies in advance!

So, here’s to a fresh coat of paint, and a fresh look going into 2016!

Go Far

With the recent earthquake in Nepal, and the news coming out of Kathmandu and from Everest Base Camp, my thoughts inevitably are drawn to the Sherpa people I met when I traveled there several years ago, some of whom were working in the base camp when the avalanche off Pumori roared through. This poem was an homage to the Sherpa when I wrote it last year, and I re-dedicate it to them again now in the wake of this tragedy.

Lace Winter

Ama Dablam and Kangtega in the Solukhumbu range of the Himalaya Ama Dablam and Kangtega in the Solukhumbu range of the Himalaya

A thousand miles and more
Beyond the Bosphorus and the Levant,
Far along the Karakoram Way,
Past the ancient city of Tashkent.

Dusty Kathmandu beckons,
With Thamel’s every trackless street,
Spin the wheels at Boudhanath,
And the temple monkeys to greet.

Looming distant beyond the valley,
Rising above the smoke and haze,
Gleaming, jagged, white with summer snow,
The Solukhumbu commands your gaze.

From Lukla’s first tilted landing,
And the winding paths of Namche Bazar,
Along narrow depths of the Dudh Kosi valley,
Steep trails promise to take you far.

The welcoming arms of Ama Dablam
Smiling over the milk river below,
Guarding over the school in Khumjung,
Tengboche’s chanting, yet still far to go.

The Pheriche valley is a welcome path,
Stone homesteads and herds of yak;
A sombre memorial at Thokla Pass
For those who didn’t make…

View original post 260 more words

Holiday

I’m baaaack!

I’ve been away on a little holiday… ok, a bit of an extended holiday… ok, pretty much all of February. While I was away, I also took a holiday from most things online or electronic, which I admit was a difficult decision, but a good one. I recommend it once in a while!

And, of course I came home to more than 500 unread emails. I still have a lot of sifting and sorting to do there, so I’ve got my work cut out for me. If you sent me a message, email, Twitter, comment, etc, I will get back to you, it just may take me a bit to get to them all.

Where did I go? I’ll have more to write about that, but here’s a little hint:

Bag End Party Business

Contemplation and a Break

Winter Contemplation

 

Every once in a while we need to just sit back and think. Or not think, as the case may be. Find a quiet, secluded spot, make ourselves comfortable, and contemplate. Perhaps it is our navels, perhaps it is the mysteries of the cosmos, and perhaps it’s just frustration with Edith Crawley’s simpering melodrama — but these large issues need time.

In a city that knows how to keep its secrets, I will be contemplating the answers to life’s persistent questions*, and so will be a little quiet for a bit. In a few weeks, though, I’ll be back in force, never fear.

 

* Bonus points if you know the source of my paraphrasing.

The Open Road

Open Road

 

Drifting snow snakes across the highway,
Steaming like a young woman’s dreams
Of the life she left behind her,
In the rear-view mirror, no more to be seen.

Far ahead stretches the long and lonesome road,
Curving over hill and dale,
Reaching ever forward to horizons,
No arrival, always on the trail.

Mountains yet stand sentinel,
Sheathed all in white,
Passes to be crossed between
Today and endless night,
That which came before her, and
Ahead still out of sight.

Precarious to navigate,
Downgrade in low gear,
Long-haul truckers keeping
Company with her fear,
But the tires keep their traction
And she puts them to her rear.

The tires sing out their lonely
One note melody,
The white line draws a promise of
A brighter future yet to be,
If she can but follow and
Open eyes to see;
He is far behind her and
Now she’s finally free.