I got an Email from Mom.  She told me the story with the wannabee writer started pretty good, but wondered where the end was.  She really likes stories with beginning, middle, and ends.  For me, sometimes being left to dangle is part of the story.  It leaves you to wonder.  Well, was he a sci-fi writer?  Did he go to see his dad?  What about Mama?  Was she a closet writer?  Maybe the "worst kind" too.  A Fantasy writer!  Oh my, that would never do!  I don't think I want to add to it, as for me, it's finished.  The audience for that one broke out laughing.  Knowing me, it was a given that if the kid were me, he'd have been a sci-fi lad.  But this is an effort to stretch my wings a bit, and if you're stuck in just one genre, you can't draw upon your travels in another story.

This weekend I think I'm going to let my imagination run with some kids and see where it takes me.  I've found I can write very dark and Stephen King'ish, but doing that bothers me.  It really opens up a side I'd rather keep closed up.  Tightly.  Solidly.  Forever locked and without a key.  It's dank, dark, and filled with the goose bumps of screaming despair.

Lets talk a bit about copy writes.  I refuse to post on my FB page.  I'll leave that for the needy.  The ones seeking fame and acknowledgement.  Me?  Not so much.  Fame and recognition make me want to crawl in a hole.  Did I ever mention I wrote for a major magazine?  Yeah, I was a published contributor to a nationally published tome you can still find on store shelves.  Always bugged me to have someone i never met, clapping me on the back and acting like we'd been best friends for years.  That's when I discovered I don't like fame.  Now the Ex would scratch her head and find that puzzling.  She claimed I lived for center stage.  There is a difference though.  There's center stage with your friends, and center stage for the world.  I don't do the World well.

Here though?  Well, I'll probably post some more stories, but will not be happy if they get republished without my permission.  There is something about the Plagiarist that rubs me in the wrong way.  While writing comes embarrassingly easy for me, what I give away, I give to friends.  I don't give freely to someone looking for an easy grade at school, or a quick buck for a college paper.  I've been published there too, and managed to have my senior thesis quoted because of the research work I performed

So...   Thinking and thinking.  No late night key pounding.  Going to retire soon and see what the subconscious throws out at me.  I'm seeing some kids.  Some sort of adventure.  I'll have to see if it has a hero, or heroin.  There needs to be three more stories for my, "I knew things weren't going to go well." series.  Let's see what kind of day my Hero(in) wakes up to