Update

Okay, so it has been awhile since I have had the chance to sit down and write a complete story (even a short one). I have started back in school, which is easy enough, but for the time being is very time consuming. Oh, and then there is that pesky new house, which preoccupies about 30% of my free time. Other than that, life has been peachy.

Update on writing:

Short Stories- I have been working on anew comedy, which revisits one of my personal favorite Characters (a certain space cadet psychologist). I did take the suggestion of one of my friends and have decided to throw in a character with a certain unnatural fear of clowns. Dr. Radco should fin a unique way of curing the man. Now to find the time to finish it (afterall, I am half way done...or halfway started).

Also, I did submit my one suspense story to a magazine for publishing a couple of months ago. I did not post it on here, mainly cause it was kind of dark, even for me. If anyone likes to read those type of creepy stories just leave a message and I will send you a copy. I always love feedback.

Sam Likeable Novel- I finally found the chapter 1 revisions, which my literary genious friend so graciously put together for me (in exchange for babysitting, which yes I will make good on). I have one page to go with that chapter and will then begin working on chapter 2. I would love to post some excerpts from the book, and may be able to soon. If at all possible, I hope to complete the book before the end of the year, so that I can start fresh with submitting to literary agents. Let's keep our fingers (and toes) crossed.

Wish me luck. I will try to have the short story with Dr. Radco posted by next week.

Superhero Story

This week's assignment was to create a hero and send him on a journey in a very obscure location. This story is dedicated to all of the pasty white people in the world (Darn you stupid UV resistent skin that prevents keeping any sort of tan!!!)


The Last Adventure of Albino Boy

Albino Boy, clutching his wooden cane, carefully approached the building, being mindful to avoid any detection. His mission was easy enough; sneak in and destroy his arch nemesis Ultra V, leaving no trace of being there.

Albino Boy, who was now well in his retirement age, had taken on this mission in order to delay the expiration of his “Superhero” status from the Alliance of Super Heroes. They had caught up to him at his home last week and gave him the chance to redeem himself by seeking out his old arch nemesis and bringing him to justice for the heinous crimes Ultra V had committed during his life.

Ultra V had sought to destroy thousands of lives through his hazardous behavior. Albino Boy shuddered at the thought of the people who had suffered darker skin pigmentation and the near misses of skin cancer that Ultra V had caused. Ultra V had come really close to causing serious harm by trapping two hundred people in a building that had all of the lights switched out to UV bulbs. Albino Boy had luckily come to the rescue and being armed with large doses of SPF 200 lotion was able to break into the building and free all of those defenseless people before any serious damage was done. Unfortunately, Ultra V had escaped each time Albino Boy had been close to capturing him.

Albino Boy, with a clever baseball cap that served as both a disguise as well as protection from the sun, walked up the handicap ramp to Ultra V’s new secret lair. He had lucked out in tracking his arch nemesis down through the use of the wondrous World Wide Web. He would have laughed at the arrogance of Ultra V in posting his home address on his Facebook page, but he was worried the rush of adrenaline would set off his pacemaker, which had a short in the wiring that would cause serious muscle spasms in his arms.

Albino Boy ducked by the doorway when the automatic door opened up and a man dressed in green scrubs quickly walked past him. Albino Boy tried to carefully slip past the doorway before it closed, but his speed had greatly reduced since his last knee replacement and the door snapped shut before he got in. Albino Boy stepped back to activate the sensor but his pasty white complexion had always made those types of sensors to malfunction. Albino Boy was forced to wait for someone else to enter so that he could sneak in.

He made his way in and was immediately stopped by a young girl that sat behind a desk. The girl smiled in the most demeaning manner as if she was looking at a lost puppy. “Well hello sir. Are you here to find out about our housing options?” The girl pointed to several brochures that lined her small desk.

Albino Boy was shocked that he had been so careless to be spotted by the small girl as well as the writing on the small brochures; Mid Valley Retirement Center. He looked at the small mirror that hung behind the girl and realized that he probably did look like he belonged here. The old man that looked back at him, with the loose wrinkled skin and scruffy gray hair certainly did not look like the young energetic and pasty Albino Boy that had once save so many lives from skin cancer.

Acting quickly to throw off suspicion, Albino Man (he figured he needed to adjust his name to match the image from the mirror) decided that he need to be incognito if he was gong to find his arch nemesis among the masses that undoubtedly filled the retirement center. “Yes, I would like a tour of your facility.”

“Certainly, let me get an escort for you.” The pretty girl dialed a number on her phone and one of the administrators came out quickly to begin the tour.

If Albino Man hadn’t been on a mission; he certainly would have been interested in paying closer attention to the amenities of the facility. It had several day spas, private rooms with full kitchens, a full fitness center, and staff that were available any time of day. It sure beat the small dusky flat that he shared with several inhospitable rats.

“As you can see Mr. Smith, we here at Mid Valley Retirement Center find that every resident is a high priority to us.” The sales man misunderstood Albino Man’s curiosity of each room’s inhabitants for an easy sale.

“You know what would really seal the deal?” Albino Man decided he needed to make a more abrupt approach and the sales man lit up instantly. “A list of each of your residents by room. . .This way I can see if any of my friends live here already.”

The salesman eyebrows raised in bewilderment at Albino Man’s request. Albino Man started to panic, but the salesman surprised him, “Ok, hold on and I can get that for you.”

Albino Man waited patiently for the young salesman to return and complimented himself on being so cunning. When the man returned he left Albino Man with the list so he could peruse the list in silence.

He was shocked to find that near the bottom of the page was the name Raymond U. Violet in room 214. Albino Man scanned the hallways and found the two hundred hall was the down the center hallway in the building. His excitement level caused his pacemaker to go off, which in turn sent spasms all down his arm.

Albino Man slowly made his way to the center hall. As he walked along the tile floors, the walls were lined with windows that exposed the many residents of the facility to the harmful sun. Albino Man decided once he finished with Ultra V he would have a word with the facilities management about their haphazard choice.

He came to room 214 and paused outside the door. He had been waiting for the moment to bring this man to justice for most of his life, and now a door in a retirement center was all that stood in his way. He looked up at the light that hung outside the room and cringed when he realized that the bulb had been replaced with a UV bulb. He started to step away when he remembered that he applied extra UV protection earlier in fear that his enemy would try such horrific tactics to delay his inevitable capture.

Albino Boy reached out for the doorknob but was surprised when the door snapped open before he could grab the handle. Instead of being greeted by an elderly version of his arch enemy, holding open the door was a tall somber man in scrubs.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” The nurse had been as surprised to open the door to see Albino Man.

“Um, I’m looking for Ultra V…I mean Raymond.”

The nurse lowered his head. “Mr. Violet is no longer here.”

Albino Man shook his head in anger. There was no way he could let him escape again. “How did he get away?”

“Get away?” The man’s look of sadness to turned to quizzical. “He didn’t get away. He died. You are welcome to come in and say goodbye before he is picked up.”

Albino Man smiled triumphantly as the nurse walked away from the doorway. While he felt some disappointment that he couldn’t face his enemy for one last time, he would certainly use his passing for his personal advantage. After all, no one, especially the A.S.H., would have to know that Ultra V died from third degree burns that he obtained from a tanning booth at the facilities spa. Albino Man would have jumped for joy with his triumph over evil, but that was the reason he had his last hip replacement.

Justice was served.

Short Short Fiction

I had to come up with a short story UNDER 500 words. This was pretty difficult since I usually go over the word requirement by 500 words. The story had to have brevity and leave the reader with some sort of question. It also had to bring about some sort of emotional response in regards to the question. Let me know your thoughts.


Life Change

Nathaniel sat on his bed with his head held in shame in his hands. Sleeping had been impossible all night, and most of the morning he had been sick to his stomach with anticipation for what he had to do. Nathaniel raised his head and looked around the room. There were baseball trophies and medals proudly displayed on the wall along with several toys from his childhood that hadn’t been played with for years. His parents were adamant that he hold on to the “treasures” as a reminder of all of the great times in his life. As he looked at them, they served as a painful reminder that those days were over. He made his choice and he knew the only way he could go through with the next step in his life was telling his parents.

His whole life had been encompassed with following the teachings of the church and in pleasing his parents, but Nathaniel had made a decision that he felt he couldn’t turn back on. It was the only way to be the man he was meant to be. He hoped his parents and Heavenly Father could understand.

Nathaniel walked down the stairs to the living room, stopping on each step to look at the photographs that hung on the walls. From his first baby photo to his school pictures for each year, every step was a different milestone in his life. When he reached the last step, the photo was the current year’s school photograph. He no longer recognized the boy in the pictures.

Nathaniel walked into the living room where his parents were sitting quietly. His dad sat in his recliner holding his Bible in one hand and his notebook in the other, working on his sermon for Sunday, while Nathaniel’s mom sat solving her crossword puzzle from the day’s newspaper. A painting of Christ, which Nathaniel had always cherished, hung on the wall behind Nathaniel’s father. Christ’s eyes were painted in a way that seemed that they were always watching the viewer regardless of where they stood. Nathaniel usually felt at peace with Christ looking over him, but for the first time, Christ seemed to be looking away, leaving Nathaniel with a feeling of confirmation of the mistake he made in his life.

Nathaniel swallowed the giant lump in his throat and took a deep breath as he approached his parents. “Mom. Dad.”

They looked up at him and their smile brought memories of the pictures that hung along the stairwell, leaving Nathaniel dreaming he could go back to any of those memories. He hated the thought of their disapproval, but he had no choice. Not anymore. “I’m sorry, but we need to talk.”

Nonfiction

this was the nonfiction piece that I came up with... A little insight to mine and Jeri's relationship.

Hazing with Frogs

Cody and Eric sat eagerly at the lab desk, facing the entrance, waiting for their biology class to begin as well as the third member of their team to enter the classroom. In their eyes, today was one of the greatest days of the semester. It was frog dissection day. While many of the students dreaded coming to the class and being exposed to the nauseating fumes or having to touch the slimy skin of the dead amphibians, the two boys knew it was another opportunity to have fun in the class.

Mrs. Werhle, their teacher, had taken a back seat to their antics, finding that the boys managed to make the class a little more interesting. And for the day’s assignment, even she was eager to see what the boys had in store. She was especially intrigued about the plans they had for Jeri.

The week before, the teacher had showed a movie on frog dissection to help the class prepare for the hands-on activity, and the boys had used the video as part of their recruitment. Eric and Cody had discussed beforehand their rigid qualifications for the third member of their dissection group.

“I say let’s watch the video and whoever comes closest to puking is in,” said Eric mischievously.

‘That’s perfect,” agreed Cody as he already began to scan the class for likely candidates.

So while the video showed the proper technique to dissecting a frog and the rest of the class was facing the front of the classroom to watch the video, Cody and Eric were turned around scanning the faces of their classmates. They analyzed each squirm in the seat and look of disgust, carefully choosing who would fit in with their plans. As they looked in eager anticipation, they noticed one girl towards the back of the class, covering her mouth with her hands in desperation to keep from throwing up the disgustingly dry school burger she had eaten for lunch that day.

Cody and Eric turned to face each other with a triumphant look on their faces. When the movie ended, the two boys said in unison as they pointed to the girl, “Jeri’s in our group.”

Jeri’s face, if possible, turned a deeper shade of green than it already had been during the movie. “Um…no.” Jeri chocked the words out in panic.

Mrs. Wehrle looked at Jeri and gave a sympathetic smile. Jeri seemed to brighten up thinking Mrs. Wehrle was going to rescue her from the boys. “Okay, so we have our first group. Who’s next?” Jeri slumped back in the cold metal seat in defeat. She knew it was pointless to argue.

When Jeri finally decided to join the class on the day of the dissection, the boys’ faces brightened with excitement. The class was divided into two parts with one half filled with small desks for the students to use during lectures, and the other half had large raised desks with Bunsen burners built into the tops for students to use during lab assignments. Jeri took her time maneuvering through the rows of seats to the raised desks. She no doubt was hoping that the class would start and even finish without her. But to her dismay, the two boys continued to watch her with their evil grins. She sat down across from the two boys at the raised desk, doing her best to ignore the toothy smiles.

Mrs. Werhle stepped from the storage room holding a large bucket and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind what was in that bucket. Mrs. Wehrle approached each group and placed a frog on the dissection trays, and she smiled sympathetically as she saw Eric and Cody’s eager looks combined with Jeri’s panic. “Okay guys, get started.”

Jeri stepped back to let the boys begin, but it seemed that they had different plans. The boys grabbed the frog from the metal tray and took it around the classroom like a puppet and introduced it to the other group’s dead frogs. Some of the students joined in on the fun, joining frog hands to participate in the frog musical, but the majority of the class remained hard at work, despite the boys’ best efforts.

Finally, when the majority of the class had finished Cody and Eric decided that they needed to begin. Unfortunately for them, they had spent so much time with their recruiting efforts, that they hadn’t paid attention to the actual video, which showed the proper techniques to removing the various organs. As they cut into the frog, tiny pieces of frog flew into the air and landed on anyone standing in close proximity to the boys, including Jeri. As she looked in horror as the boys massacred the poor frog and her chance for an “A” on the assignment, Jeri pushed past the two boys and said, “Get out of the way.”

Cody and Eric stood back in amazement as Jeri overcame her fears and used the instruments to carefully extract the remainder of the organs that they hadn’t already destroyed. When Mrs. Wehrle came around to sign off on everyone’s organs, she laughed hysterically at the sight of the group. Each of them stood, with tiny bits of frog on their clothing and faces, next to their tray with the few organs that survived. “I’m not sure what happened to your frog, but good job anyways.”

While Eric and Cody celebrated the good grade the group received, Jeri sighed in relief at surviving the hazing from the two boys. She broke through a traumatic experience and had made two life long friends in the process not to mention that one of them would be her future husband.

Revised Paper

With the help of a terrific editor (Thanks Teresa), I was able to clean up my paper. I have submitted it to some contests in hopes of getting it published and I wanted to repost the final story.


The Last Meeting


Joshua sat in the high-backed chair and could feel perspiration soaking into his clothing. Having already taken off his sweater, the only thing left to remove was his t-shirt, which would certainly make his meeting awkward. Joshua decided that he needed to get his mind off the heat in the office.

The room had blinds on the wall, but when Joshua opened them, he found more walls. Instead of lights, several candles hung on the walls. Despite the abundant number of candles, the office was still dark enough that Joshua needed to squint to see around the rest of the room. Maybe there was something wrong with the candles because after what felt like hours of waiting, the candles don’t seem to have burned down.

Squinting through the gloom of the office, Joshua could see that the pictures hung along the walls all appeared to have the same man smiling proudly into the camera. He was formally dressed in a black suit and tie while the other people in the pictures wore everything from a bathrobe to a rock star’s ensemble complete with a spiked collar. Joshua moved closer and found that in addition to their unusual attire, everyone’s faces were turned down with looks of sadness, shock, or fear.

Wondering what could cause so emotions, Joshua felt increasingly alarmed that he still couldn’t remember where he was or who he was meeting.

There was a high pitched grating as the poorly oiled lock on the door slowly turned and the door creaked open. Joshua was swept back in his chair by the intensity of the heat as well as the overwhelming smell of burnt rancid meat. In the doorway stood the man from the pictures, with his greasy black hair smoothly slicked back, wearing the same style black button up shirt and pants that he wore in the pictures that would be more suitable for a funeral than any type of meeting. Joshua felt intimidated at the look of confidence the man wore proudly.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting so long, but you know how business can be. It seems like an eternity since I have had a vacation,” said the man in a most sincere apologetic voice. The man let out a little chuckle at his private joke and closed the door behind him. As he moved into the room, the man cheerfully exclaimed, “It is nice to have you here!”

Despite feeling embarrassed that he still had no clue why he was meeting the man, Joshua stood up and extended his hand as he had done in numerous other meetings. Despite the cheerful greeting, the dark man ignored Joshua’s welcoming gesture and walked past him to sit on the other side of the desk.

The man sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “I must admit, that I have been waiting for you for sometime.”

“Really?” Joshua asked. He felt like he should apologize for keeping the man waiting, but the thought of the sad faces in the pictures had him reconsidering.

“Absolutely. It isn’t everyday that we get someone with your sort of values here.”

“Thanks . . . I think.”

The man smiled to himself as he pinned Joshua to the heated chair with the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to wait for Joshua to grasp something . . . something obvious to only the man.

Suddenly, the man threw back his head back and roared with laughter that resonated through the tiny office. The man continued to laugh an unusually long time, which added to Joshua’s unease.

The man’s laughter slowly subsided and he clutched his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “Oh man . . . I’m sorry, but you guys fall for it every time.” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and with laughter still shining in his black eyes; he leaned forward and said, “No. We actually get your type here every day. You, my good man, are in Hell.”

Joshua blinked quickly and waited for the laughter to return. There was an uncomfortable minute as they both stared at each other waiting for some reaction. Slowly, the laughter died form the man’s sinister eyes and Joshua began to question the man’s sanity. “I’m sorry, did you say Hell?”

“Yep. This is Hell, and I happen to be Satan.” He paused to let the information sink into Joshua’s numb brain. “Don’t feel special. I meet all of the newbies.” A smug, satisfied smile crept onto Satan’s face. With a sickening realization, Joshua recognized the same look that matched the pictures on the wall. It was the smile that made Joshua begin to believe that he could actually be in Hell. He even wondered if he should have a similar dejected look like the other down-trodden souls shown in the pictures. Surprisingly, he wasn’t upset at all. Obviously Satan had made a big mistake.

The man from the pictures seemed a little disappointed with Joshua’s lack of horror. “I know it may seem hard to believe, but we need to get past the whole disbelief and doubt. I have several other unlucky sinners to welcome. Here. This may help.” A expected, a quick flash of fire erupted on Satan’s face and the skin slowly melted away revealing a blackened skull that somehow still surprisingly appeared to be smiling. While it seemed like the typical Hollywood effect of portraying Satan, it defiantly helped hit home that the man in the black suit truly was Satan. Joshua wanted to claw his way over the back of the chair and run to safety, but he was frozen in terror. Regardless of the situation, watching anyone’s face melt off can be traumatizing.

Feeling satisfied that Joshua had come to understand the seriousness of the situation, the man’s skeleton began laughing again as his face slowly reformed. Luckily Satan had already proved himself as a long laugher, and Joshua had ample time to come up with a more appropriate response, “Uh . . . There . . . There,” Joshua was having difficulty forming a sentence. “There must be . . .” Joshua swallowed hard to get the rest out, “. . . a mix-up.”

The laughter ceased suddenly as Satan slapped his forehead and slowly dragged his hand down his face. “Why does everyone question me? You screwed up. You sinned. You died. You’ve gone to Hell. Don’t act too surprised.” Satan’s intense glare pinned Joshua again. “Don’t try telling me that you never heard the warnings. The big guy upstairs, who everyone loves so much, certainly went overboard with his advertising budget.

“Yeah . . . I did . . .” Before Joshua could go on, Satan broke his train of thought.

“Good, then you know why you are here.” Satan stood to leave; feeling satisfied that he had made his point.

Having never let an argument drop during his life, Joshua stood up too, “Actually, I don’t.”
Satan stopped what he was doing and turned slowly to face Joshua. Rather than the triumphant grin found in the pictures in the room, Satan’s face began to turn a deep shade of crimson, which made Joshua worry that it would erupt in flames again. “What don’t you understand? You break the rules, and you end up here.” Satan’s voice shook the pictures on the wall but Joshua refused to show fear. Nervously, Joshua swallowed the large lump in his throat and said, “No I understand that.”

Satan pointed to a stack of papers that suddenly appeared on his desk. “My records show that you commit several of my favorite sins.” Satan began to list off Joshua’s biggest transgressions with his fingers, “Fornication, blasphemy, laziness, and wearing black pants with brown belts in the same outfit to name a few.”

Satan lowered his hand and shrugged, “Okay, the last one isn’t too bad, but you get my point. So let’s make our way to the brimstone and eternity of suffering, shall we?”

Satan extended his arm to the door, politely indicating that Joshua should lead the way. A lifetime of office politics had taught Joshua that the first to leave was the one who lost the argument. Joshua continued to stand his ground and made a feeble attempt at copying Satan’s glare. Satan figured he was going to have to call one of the hell hounds to drag the poor disbelieving fool from his office. But before he could move to call his loyal pets, he was shocked when Joshua began manically laughing. Satan was furious that Joshua had the nerve to use his bitt!

Joshua slowly stopped laughing as Satan came to grips with the fact that Joshua had turned the tables on him. With a long sigh, Joshua flopped down in his chair and with a toothy smile simply said, “I don’t belong here.”

Satan threw up his hands with impatience. “Ok, you are forcing me to get my hell hounds.”
As Satan began turning the handle to leave, Joshua’s next words interrupted him. “I got baptized last week.”

Joshua watched Satan’s back waited for a reaction, but Satan just continued to hold the door knob. As long as Satan wasn’t talking, Joshua figured he should fill the silence. “You are right that I used to proudly sin, but after awhile I found that I needed more than my party lifestyle. A couple of months ago two guys wearing white shirts and ties knocked on my door. I listened to what they had to say and let them baptize me last week. No more sins.”

With a defeated sigh, Satan said, “Well crap.” Satan’s head dropped and he looked down at his feet. “Death bed baptism, huh?” Satan shook his head in disbelief. “Well, we could have had some real fun. At least I would have.”

Satan turned to face Joshua and smiled a sickly smile, definitely not as proudly as he had in each of the pictures framed on the walls. He held up his hand and snapped his fingers.

Joshua woke and looked around when a cool breeze gently blew across his face. He found himself standing outside gates of the most brilliant white and gold. He breathed in the crisp fresh air. He murmured Satan’s words softly to himself, “You screw up. You Sinned. You died. You’ve gone to hell. Don’t act too surprised.” Luckily for Joshua the rules go both ways: You screw up. You sinned. You repent. You died. You’ve gone to Heaven. Joshua smiled proudly as he pushed open the heavy gates and walked through.

Novel Review

For my latest assignment in class, we had to write a review of our imaginary story that has recently become the number one book in the world. We had to discuss how we wrote the book and the premise of the story. But with my sarcasm, I decided to take it in a different direction.


Delusions of Grandeur



With my latest novel “Sunset” having now sold millions of copies and being translated in fifteen different languages, jealousy has reared its ugly head through the form of some rather snide critics. So in an attempt to dispel the rumors that have come about concerning the similarities between my book and that of the “Twilight” series by Stephanie Meyer, I have chosen to write this article to clear up the confusion and set the critics straight.

I would like to start with the premise of my novel and how it greatly differs from Mrs. Meyer’s. My book is about the love of a vampire girl named Stella and a human male named Eddie, which right away should dispel any rumors of plagiarism. The two meet while attending the same nighttime college classes in the small town of Spoons Washington, and after courting for two fantastically awkward dates, fall madly in love with each other. Despite the co-dependent relationship and vows for an eternal life together, Stella is also forced to deal with her best friend Jack, who is a recently turned werepoodle, which has decided he has fallen for Stella as well.

Meanwhile, the clan of Greek vampires known as the Voltrons, that are the ruling class of vampires, find out of the unacceptable love between the beast and its food. This leads to a complication in which Stella must find a way to rescue Eddie from the clutches of the Greek clan as well as keeping from devouring her soul mate herself. After a tremendous buildup to the battle, my book actually has a fight scene, which in turn leads to Stella deciding that the Greek clan makes a pretty solid argument and decides that her whiny and dependent mortal love interest would make a better meal than an eternal companion. After devouring her life mate, Stella turns to the Voltrons for help in taming the werepoodle and making him her new eternal pet companion.

While the critics may have deluded themselves that I stole the idea from the “Twilight” saga, I actually spent weeks doing serious research to add the necessary credibility for my novel. The vast majority of my research came from www.vampiresarereal.com, a website designed by a group of teenagers that live in Nebraska. This website provided valuable insight into the history of vampire lore. While Stephanie Meyer’s vampires sparkled like diamonds in the sun, I came to the conclusion, with the help of the website, that vampires were actually an albino race of humans with heightened skin sensitivity to sunlight.

The other part of my research came with the main inspiration to write my story. I was watching The Smashing Pumpkins in an outdoor concert and the idea came to me as I observed the bald-headed and pasty-white lead singer on stage. I was swaying on the gassy field as the man sang the melodic tune “Tonight” with the bright blue lights shining off of his bald head, I found tears forming in my eyes and the idea that I too could impact millions with my words struck me. With no musical ability and having taking a creative writing course in college, I decided that writing a book would be the easiest way to reach the masses of people around the world with what I had to say. Between tear filled hours listening to my collection of Smashing Pumpkins while lying in bed and perusing my old creative writing textbook, I came up with the concept of writing “Sunset”.

I spent the next months in isolation writing down ideas as they came to me on little sticky notes as well as compiling the information from the vampire website in my daughter’s Hello Kitty journal, since it was the only journal we had in our house at the time. Once I was able to collect enough information and decide on how the story would evolve, I began my writing. The book took me over two treacherous months to write, and in the end I had found a story to be proud to share with the world.

Unfortunately, if it hadn’t been for that tragic microwave dinner fire, which destroyed my family’s home including my walls of sticky notes, the Hello Kitty journal, as well as the only dated copy of my book, I would have been able to publish my book well before Stephanie Meyer had dreamed up her little series. Since I was forced to re-write my book from memory at the local homeless shelter, my book wasn’t able to be published until a year after the “Twilight” saga, which in turn led the many critics to question my honor of coming up with the idea for my book by myself. However, I think that this paper and the fact that millions of people are in love with my story, should clarify the misconceived notion that I stole anything for the development of my book. I only hope that with my future unpublished novel “The Magical Harold”, a story of a little boy with magical powers that must stop the evil Mortimor from destroying the world, will be well more accepted for its originality.

Stress

So this is my latest short story on the effects of stress. Enjoy!


A Pirate’s Crisis


Sara’s nails were close to non-existent as she waited nervously for her husband to come home. The phone call from his boss earlier had sent her into panic mode. Tom, her husband’s boss, hadn’t said much except that he was going to give Steven some time to get better and that her husband was being driven home. She asked what had happened, but Tom had hung up without answering. If it weren’t ten a.m., Sara would be making herself a martini.
Was he fired or ill? Why had she heard laughing in the background of the call? Sara’s questions piled up as time slowly passed.
Sara looked down at the flooring to make sure that her maniacal pacing wasn’t wearing out the wood floor when she heard the front door open. Sara raced to the living room. “What happened? Are you . . .” The words ran from her mind as she caught sight of her husband standing in the door.
Steven’s sleeves to his black Armani suit coat and the bottom of his pant legs had been ripped off and his sky blue tie was tied around his head. Sara assumed her poor husband had been beat up at work, but she couldn’t figure out why there appeared to be some yellow sticky notes stapled to the tie, covering his right eye.
“Ahoy, me lover!” Steven flung his suitcase high in the air as if brandishing a sword.
Sara’s worry turned to shock as she took in the full picture. “You’re drunk.”
“Ah, me lass, not a touch o’ whiskey has graced me parched lips.” Steven tossed his suitcase on the leather couch and strode over to his wife. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to kiss her, but Sara pushed him away.
There wasn’t any scent of alcohol on his breath, but she didn’t immediately rule out drugs. Sara thought she‘d disposed of the Vicodin from her latest nip ‘n’ tuck. “Seriously Steven, what’s going on? Did something go wrong with the big merger?”
Steven had been working on a multi-million dollar merger at work for the last couple of months, working well over a hundred hours each week. She hadn’t seen him much, but she knew when they got through the next couple of weeks, Steven would end up a vice president of one of the largest publishing houses in the United States. Then she and Steven could focus traveling the world together and perhaps starting a family.
“Nay, me busty lass. I’ve had me a change of heart.” He stepped back and thrust his fist to his heart. “There’ll be no more of the fancy-pants land lubber life for me!” Steven grabbed for his wife again, but she slapped his hand away.
“Have you lost your mind, or is this one of your weird role playing fantasies? I told you when we got married, there is nothing romantic or sexy about dressing up and playing make believe.”
Steven held his head back and laughed heartedly. “Arrg, my saucy wench! No fever o’ the mind that has touched me. I’ve made up me mind that the high seas as pirate be the life fer . . .umm . . .us.” Steven placed his hands proudly on his hips and stared off in the direction of some imaginary magnificent ship.
“Awesome. So you have lost your mind.”
Sara sat down on the coffee table and buried her head in her hands. When she looked up, her husband still stood gazing off in the distance. She wanted to snatch the yellow sticky pad from over his eye. Instead she reached out and grabbed her husband’s hand from his hip. “Sweety.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I love you.”
“Arrg, so you’re comin’ ‘round to the thought o’ bein’ me wench on the high seas?”
Sara smiled insincerely at Steven. “I love you, but if you call me wench one more time, I promise dear, that I will drop kick you.” Sara took another deep breath. “You know I support you in anything you want to do in life.”
Steven broke out a huge smile, but Sara held up her hand. “We are not pirates. If you want to buy a boat and pretend to be Captain Feathersword on the weekends . . . by yourself . . . then by all means, have at it. But don’t imagine that I will be giving up our life and sailing around the world with you because you’re having some mid-life crisis.”
“Well shiver me timbers!” Steven jumped up on the coffee table and scowled at his wife. “I’ll not have such mutiny on me watch! It’s the plank for you, me bonny lass!”
Sara’s jaw dropped to the floor as he continued to scowl at her. Sara knew there was only one thing she could do. She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone and dialed the phone as her husband looked on in bewilderment.

* * * * *

“Well, Mrs. Peak, it was a good thing you contacted us when you did.” The doctor looked back through the window of the tiny room. “It was obvious that the stress of his life had reached its limit on the poor man.”
Sara gazed through the window at her husband as he sat in the chair working on a puzzle. It was heartbreaking seeing the once proud man locked away in the tiny cell of the mental institution. “So did the treatment finally work? Is he going to be okay? Can he come home?”
“Oh, absolutely. I told you that the forth round of electric shock therapy would do the trick.” The doctor reached for the handle and opened the door. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”
Sara walked into the room and was greeted with a warm smile from her husband and immediately wanted to run and hug the man, but she hesitated. Frankly, she was surprised that the poor man wasn’t drooling all over himself as her friends had warned.
“Sweety. How are you?” Sara spoke softly in fear that he would erupt in pirate talk again.
“Oh, Sara!” Steven jumped from his chair and embraced his wife. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through.”
Sara nearly burst into tears at the sound of her husband’s normal vernacular.
The doctor looked to Steven. “Mr. Peak, do you think you are ready to go home?”
“I’ve never been more ready in my life.” Steven clutched his wife’s hand and reached out and shook the doctor’s hand firmly.
After gathering Steven’s things and signing the release forms, they left the institution ready to start over together. When they found their car, Sara turned to her husband and he could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”
Steven smiled and said, “I don’t know what happened to me. I am just glad that you and I could get through it.”
“I talked to your boss; he said that everyone is excited to have you back to work. He said that the merger went through, and they would love to have you come back to work and take on the vice-president position.”
Stephen kissed his wife and opened her door for her. She kissed him on the cheek and gracefully sat down. Steven closed the door and made his way around the car, stopping at the rear of the vehicle. He reached into his pocket, looked down at his hand smiling wickedly. “Yo ho ho. A pirate’s life fer me.” Steven placed the blue tie with the yellow sticky notes eye patch back into his pocket and walked to his door, feeling prepared to take on his new role as the Pirate King of Minnesota.