notapoet's fiction

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Friday, September 22, 2006

"Truth is stranger than fiction"

…is a quote usually attributed to Mark Twain. What he actually said was: “Truth is stranger than fiction -- to some people.” Twain was probably paraphrasing an earlier quote by Josh Billings that he had heard or read. This is entirely conjecture on my part that I base on the fact Billings was some... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Conversation With the Dead

Jesse often visited his grandparents' graves at the little cemetery just outside of town. Sometimes, when no one else was around, he talked to them. “Well, old man,” Jesse said to the headstone, “I guess you were right. I ended up not amounting to much after all. Over the long haul, anyway. “But you... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

The Large Girl

She was a large girl. Not exceptionally tall for a girl, but large in the sense of being wide and thick. The kind of girl that, in my less generous moments, I might describe as “a better candidate for linebacker with the Packers than for a date.” “Jeff’s fan must have a free period,“ Nelson... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

The stuff of fiction

…is the stuff of life. I touched on this, mostly by inference, in my most recent post to “WRITERS WRITE” in the On Writing category. Much of this Fiction blog is indeed based on fictionalized events from my own life. This is more so than ever since I’ve decided to incorporate any future episodes of... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Jesse is alive and well.

He’s just decided to move in with notapoet in this part of the neighborhood. He’s going to share expenses and recuperate a little before continuing to spin tales about his journeys and recapping some he previously shared with us. Jesse feels this will be a more economical use of space and will help... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

This post is just for the hell of it.

The only thing I have to offer at the moment is a long and winding tale that probably needs to be divided into smaller and more palatable chunks. I am of the opinion that smaller doses go down easier for the majority of those who peruse the Fiction blogs. And short, pithy posts about the process of... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, April 26, 2004

The Writer at Work

He sat for hours writing in longhand on college-ruled sheets of notebook paper. A decent typewriter would have made things easier, and he probably could afford a used one. But he hated to spend dollars on tools he could make-do without. Especially when even a few dollars could put food on the table... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Rainbow Chaser

I met the Rainbow Chaser once. We became casual drinking buddies during my sophomore year at the university. At the time I had no idea that I'd befriended a local folk legend. I think it was my abhorence with drinking alone that caused me to strike up a conversation with a stranger at my favorite... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, April 6, 2004

Lost Loves

There were many over the years. It began with his first real infatuation in the second grade. It progressed through the years to encompass more girls, more women, than he realized. So many years, so many loves. Some were so long ago that their faces were only half-remembered. Some of the names were... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

The Calling

There once was a writer who felt the call to write at a very tender age. He was just eight or nine when he penciled his first story. He'd just that year learned to write cursive and was not yet comfortable enough with it to use an ink pen. It made no matter. He wrote a long western epic. It was so... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, March 7, 2004

"Beam Me Up, Scotty!"

"Whatever can be imagined is out there," the old man told Garth. "And then some." They had been standing together on the high spot shared by their back yards, silently gazing at the stars. It was a clear winter night with a view enhanced, rather than marred, by wisps of soft white and blue-gray... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, February 29, 2004

Warts

The damned ugly warts were itching, but too painful to touch. Paul had learned the hard way that scratching at them caused an intense burning sensation that lingered for several minutes to an hour. He would love to have them cut off, burned off, or whatever it was they did for warts now. Or was that... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, February 28, 2004

The Void

Hey! Where did everybody go. Its like a big void out there where late night and early morning blogging usually takes place on Blogit. It's approaching 6:00 AM EST and hardly anyone has posted or made a comment for hours. Where are all the nightowls? Where are all the early risers? WHERE THE HELL DID... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, January 23, 2004

Bruce's Shorts

Bruce always looked forward to practice. He loved the bright wide-open space of the main gym floor. Not at all like the grayer illumination of the lobby and locker rooms. The sound of bouncing basketballs and coaches' whistles was music to his ears. The smell of the freshly oil-mopped floor was... Sign in to see full entry.

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