I’ve decided to combine a few ideas into one, to make a more seamless story. The people in Oh-Anon, the Non-addicts will be appearing as part of the story in Paint It (working title). Josh Szewczyk, friend of Larry Szysz will likely be the addict in the group, previously named Jerry.
I’ve written a lot the last few days, but mostly done research on Polish immigrants and immigration in the late 1800’s. Remember, people: research is writing, especially if you’re somewhat unfamiliar with your topic. There are research notebooks in my backpack right now and that excites me.
I feel fairly accomplished so far, having written, researched and otherwise thought of writing constantly the last few weeks. My creativity is really starting to fire and I’m excited to keep going. My sole disappointment is that I can’t find anything to grasp onto with Roanoke. It’s like a boat out in the ocean with a lost motor; adrift and waiting for rescue or bidding time until it sinks.
Keep after it, #write365 challengers.
Three best friends score tickets to the concert of their lifetime, only to have the lead singer — who battled some very well known demons — kill himself on stage directly after playing the biggest hit of their career “And We’ll Paint It.” The next twenty years of their lives recall that moment for each of the three now thirty-six year olds trying to forget, one trying to constantly remember, and one refusing to believe it happenend. This is Larry. Continue reading Paint it — 02/23
When I was younger, I had no idea how to treat death or communicate feelings of death to someone. In a receiving line (I was a Catholic in a former life) at a wake, I would shake the grieving hand, avoid eye contact, mumble the word sorry and look for someone as unhappy as I was to be there. As I’ve matured, I’ve realized what needs to be said and how.
Here, friends is that wisdom. Again: As part of the legacy I want to pass on, I pass these words on to you, my dear reader.
Continue reading Peter on Loss — 02/19.
Inspired by Amber’s link to Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction, I decided to write about a twisted love. My personal goals were to take just an hour and make sure I wrapped the story up. While I did take less than an hour, I did not wrap the story well, and rushed the ending.
C’est la vie, kids. This is #write365. Any writing is good writing.
Continue reading Twisted Love 02/18
Inspired by an overheard conversation wherein two jagaloons discussed the sexual prowess and examples of friends, despite likely never having any sort of sexual relations themselves. This is their story.
Full Disclosure: I gave myself a timer of one hour, starting at 9:35pm. I did a terrible job at not distracting myself through my writing as I threatened several twitter friends whilst writing. However, I attempted to write in a Cormac McCarthy-esque voice without commas and not worrying about sentence splices and allowing for tremendous run-on sentences to occur which turned out somewhat beautifully in my opinion. Raw and unedited follows without the benefit of the backspace, aside from silly spelling mistakes. No words written fully were ever removed.
Continue reading Others Anonymous — 2/17
I am backdating this post for good reason. My writing done on 2/16 was in the form of recipes. While I’m using this writing thing to ultimately publish books and get money and get money to get women and get women to get crazy and get crazy to get out of the house and get out of the house to have peice of mind, what I’m really doing is trying desperately to establish a legacy.
And so, within a Moleskine notebook I purchased years ago with the idea of using as a beer journal before Moleskine came out with said Beer Journal Moleskine notebooks (and subsequently purchased 3) I’m also writing recipes. The idea is that my children then, in turn add pages, purchase their own Moleskine and pass mine down to my grandchildren who will likely be old enough to have a fond memory of their grandpa and fondness for the man he was. I’m hoping they then pass that on to their children who remember their grandma and grandpas.
And so on.
The recipe today was Chili, of which I am quite fond of browning beef, chile peppers, and absolutely adding zero tomatoes and zero beans. This does not mean I don’t enjoy beans nor tomatoes; I assuredly do. However, in my Chili, of which I am possessive, of which I speak of with a capital C for importance and reverence, neither bean nor tomato have a place within the bowl or vessel. No, this Chili with a capital C is enjoyed best with a cool beer as it takes half the liquid from beer. It takes seasoning from ample chile powder, lower case this time as it is not as important as the Chili itself, Chili as a whole.
And there is, of course, my secret ingredient, the one that keeps them coming back for more. An unassuming and yet deliciously paired with chile since the beginning of time — chocolate.
Those fortunate enough to taste will sing the praises. Those who research well have been given ample ability from the above paragraphs to piece the recipe together, or at the very least a reasonable facsimile of.
Today’s writing was private and therapeutic. Sorry, folks.