Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Eve Proclamation

It's Christmas Eve and I'm at work from 7 till 6:30. It's going to be a long day, but I have a job and that, in and of itself, is something to be thankful for. I'm getting really excited for 2011 because I have decided that this new year will be the year that I make something of myself. Sure, by this time next year I'd love to be writing full time and supporting my family solely off of that, but I know how hard it is to succeed with that. Realistically, I want robbed able to make some sort of income off of my writing within the next year, but it doesn't have to be enough to quit my day job. Come January though, I'm hitting this hard - harder than I have ever hit anything and I am determined to make progress. I know my blogs have been a bit scarce lately and they probably will be for the next several days, but know that if you read this, even vaguely routinely, you'll be invited to come along on my journey of successes and failures as I try to write myself through the new year. So, observe the flashing seatbelt sign, keep your trays in an upright position and be aware of your emergency exits it's going to be one hell of a ride.

To all of my family, friends, and readers: thank you and Merry Christmas! I hope it's the best ever!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Home Stretch

This is the home stretch for the holiday season, which is why my blog entries have fallen off. I apologize to the six of you who read for not updating as reliably as I have previously. Between working a crazy schedule, finishing our Christmas shopping, and family functions, I just haven't had the time to write like I was.

Hopefully you enjoyed my 200 words at a time noir story. I may continue you it at some point if my readers want. I really enjoyed writing those entries, and I'm sure incould come up with more, but again, the demand needs to be there. I will get back to the fast fiction challenge but it will probably be the first week of January before I really have time to spend on The Madness Spiral like I was. Don't get me wrong, this site will not go ignored, but it may just have new content a bit less reliably. For instance, it's Wednesday, in which I am normally off, and I'm at work and have been since 7 and I'm typing this on my phone. I planned on writing a new blog last night, but a sick three year old put a stop to that.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, thank you. If you're reading this, I greatly appreciate the time you've taken out of your day to let me attempt to entertain you. Thank, thank you, thank you.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Dark Night of the Soul, Issue 3

            Locking the door to my office, I proceeded to stumble awkwardly down the stairs. Too much scotch I guess. I opened the door leading to the concrete jungle and a blast of cold air hit me like a haymaker. I pulled the collar of my coat up and adjusted the brim of my hat then started home. The wind was fierce this evening. The chill in the air was cutting through even the thickest coats and the streets were nearly deserted. It was just me, the streetlights, the wind, and the warm feeling of the rotgut in my belly.
As I stuck my hands into my pockets for warmth, I felt the familiar presence of my worn .38 at my side. My trusty revolver had been with me through my years as a beat cop, and I still carry it everywhere with me. It’s a tired old friend that I feel lost without. I’m starting to get the feeling that, now than I’m investigating on my own, I’ll be needing that trusty .38 more than I ever did as a protector of the innocent. Protector is probably a bit of an overstatement: all the cops in this town are crooked. 

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Dark Night of the Soul, Issue 2

          She sat across my desk and I stared into her baby blues, falling deep into their perfect lagoon. I was engaged. Entranced. I hung on her every word. I breathed when she did. Blinked when she did. My heart thumped loudly. I didn’t even hear the majority of her story, but I was nodding, and mindlessly saying that I’d do everything I could to help her out.
          She coughed a bit and I fumbled to reach that bottle of scotch in my drawer and I wiped out a glass with my handkerchief. As I poured, her eyes burned into me and I felt the blood rising to my face. I knew that I had to calm down or lose my composure entirely, but she was more intoxicating than my scotch.
          She sipped at her glass as she finished the story. She wanted me to meet her tomorrow night at the bar across the street to give me more info, and with that she was up and putting her coat on. She stopped at the door and turned towards me, stealing my breath. She smiled and said thanks.
          It was all I could do to make it back to my glass.