Number 7

MONUMENT

She stood before the wooden gate. The night was quiet and peaceful.

The house and gate, both freshly painted, stood empty.

The singular lamp post glowed softly in the moonlight.

Had it been fifty years? Fifty years since he’d saved her?

She was the leader now. The scandal of her father’s house all but forgotten.

But not him. Not the old man. He would be remembered into eternity.

The house had been his. It would never be another’s. She would not allow it.

She still remembered the day of her return, her father’s look and her mother’s tears.

The old man had remained. She had not known until much later what the true tale was.

But he had kept his silent vow, he’d protected her and her people.

It had been ten years since his passing. Ancient then, feeble of body but not mind.

No one knew how old he was when he finally passed on, but older than counting.

This house, his house, would remain his as long as she ruled, as long as she breathed.

A silent reminder to her people. There was goodness in the world, you just had to look.

The weapon rested low on her hip. His weapon, now her weapon. His last gift to her.

She turned and strode into the darkness. She was not afraid.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

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Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

Well I really do hope you’ve enjoyed all seven stories.  Next week I’m going to post them all in order so you can read them at the same time and hopefully enjoy the singular tales under one long arc.

Have a great rest of the week and I hope everyone in America enjoyed their Fourth of July holiday.  See y’all next Wednesday.

Sincerely,

Jonathan

 

Number 6

DETERMINATION

She’d slipped her hand into his at some point, though he did not know when.

It was small and soft, he held it, not too tightly. Their arms swinging forward and back.

They would be home soon. She would be back with her people. Saved, if not safe.

He would stay too, the silent shadow. Watcher, protector, foreboding statue.

They’d given him the home, a seemingly generous and selfless boon.

His reputation had frightened them, perhaps that’s why they’d offered it to him.

Once the request had come from her father’s house, all had been made apparent.

He heard the bird, that was not a bird. The call from her father’s sentinel.

They passed between the ancient steel skeletons that once housed people.

The ghosts within the rusted bones, hundreds of years old, paid them no mind.

The message was being sent. She was returning and him with her.

The old man, the young girl, walking hand in hand smiled at each other.

The pocket of civility in this rabid world growing closer with every step.

Their pace quickened, hands clasped, their arms swinging back and forth.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

Youtube http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

Thanks for stopping by.  Have a great rest of the week and super fun weekend.  As always I’ll see you back here next Wednesday.

Best,

Jonathan

 

Number 5

BASTION

Three days on the road, barely a word exchanged between them.

She was in shock still, yet perhaps she would recover one day.

She was young. Younger than he’d ever been.

She would never be innocent again, but perhaps she might find peace.

She’d awoken at the killing blow. Her scream had been unexpected.

At first, she’d thought she was being saved from one demon, to be taken by another.

Her father’s sigil in the old man’s hand turned her scream into sobs of relief.

Under the caked blood, the soft smile of her savior made her feel safe.

His face, sunburned and wrinkled, was wise and weary.

He cut her loose, lifting her in his arms as if she was a feather.

He carried her for miles that first day. She’d been walking on her own since.

In the safety of the darkness beyond the fire he smiled.

She was eating, that was good, her wounds were healing, that too was good.

But the scars, the real scars would take decades to heal, if at all.

He hoped she would not be held prisoner by her trauma.

She could build a fortress within herself, allowing those she trusted inside.

He nodded to no one in particular, making a pact with himself.

He would watch over her, even after he returned her. She would never know of it.

He’d be the shadows again, but not like before.

He was something new now, and because of this he felt young.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

Youtube http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

Thanks for stopping by.  Have a great rest of the week and a super weekend.  See y’all next Wednesday.

Best,

Jonathan

 

Micro-Story 3

DOUBT

The trail was old. At least three days.

It might even be false, it was hard to tell.

He thought of his home, the garden and the lamp post.

Had he made the right decision?

Was adventure not a young mans duty?

He thought of his soft bed, but pushed that aside.

He could find her, he would find her.

He’d made a promise and would keep it until death.

She would be returned, her captors brought to justice.

Rising, knees cracking, he shifted his weapon lower onto his hip.

He pushed on, rightly or wrongly, fate would decide his victory or defeat.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

Youtube http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

Thanks for stopping by, have a great rest of the week.  Have a wonderful weekend and I’ll see you next Wednesday.

Best,

Jonathan

 

Micro-story 2

RESURRECTION

His old bones, stiff at first, felt younger with every breath.

His pack, though full, was light upon his shoulder.

The road, cracked and worn, lay before him out to the horizon.

The weapon, his weapon, rested upon his hip.

The dark, toned, chrome guard of the hilt caught the sunlight.

He was young again, adventure before him.

Smiling, he strode forward into the unknown.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

Youtube http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

Enjoy the rest of your week.  Have a great weekend and I’ll see y’all Wednesday.

 

The unbearable likeness of being Micro

Hey All,

As usual thanks for stopping by.  After literally tens of requests for some more micro stories that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.  So for around the next seven weeks I’ll be posting micro stories.

My goal with these stories is of course to attempt to tell a complete story in a paragraph or two.  However, they will also collectively tell one whole story…hopefully.

Once I’ve posted them as individual stories I’ll do one final post of all of them together so that the full story is laid out.

The two big, key words to keep in mind here are attempt and hopefully.

All the links to my other useless crapola will be after the story.  Hope you guys like it.

Best,

Jonathan

SOLACE

The wooden gate creaked only slightly when he opened it.

The smell of the blossoms was both intoxicating and relaxing.

For the first time in a long time he felt safe.

With every step toward the door, the shadows of his past fell further behind him.

The singular lamppost, glowing a soft yellow in the moonlight welcomed him home.

Instagram http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

Youtube http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Amazon http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

Twitter http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

Podcast http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

Facebook http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

 

Movin’ Groovin’ and Youtubin’

Well things happen and don’t happen in this town. Such is the way of the working writer.

Life, if we stop to relax and think about it, is a pretty good thing. Sure there are ups and there are downs but overall this little blue marble aint a bad place to hang out, all things considered.

My recently optioned screenplay seems to be going nowhere relatively quickly. The second option is coming up and I’ll have to decide on what to do with that. I’m really proud of this one and don’t want it to languish. I also really like the producers who are attached and don’t want to walk away from them, if they feel they just need a little more time to set some meetings. It’s a conundrum every writer faces at some point. Do I trust myself, or these people who have shown interest yet are unable to move it along?

Usually my answer to this is trust the other people. I tend to make bad, irrational choices for many different reasons, but am learning to control those self-destructive impulses the older I get.

My pulp novel continues to grow in popularity which I am incredibly grateful for. It will never be considered a classic of literature, nor should it. It’s a pulpy, hyper-violent and semi sexually explicit bit of fun. But, people are having fun reading it and the feedback warms the small, dark, thing that rests where my heart would be. If I had a heart, but I don’t, that thing is fucking useless.

And you do need to be heartless when it comes to writing. I’m not saying you should wake up every morning, have a hearty breakfast, a nice strong cup of coffee and then go find the nearest puppy to kick. You shouldn’t do that, that’s not cool.

The kicking the puppy part, not the hearty breakfast part, you should definitely eat breakfast.

I had the really awesome opportunity to speak at Whedoncon this past weekend and I have to say for my first time speaking at a sci-fi con, I had a great time.

One of the things I did was give a short seminar on writing and creating strong mythology within your work; which is incredibly important. I also talked about being heartless and how important that is.

By heartless, what I really mean is that you cannot grow so attached to your characters that you refuse to do things for the greater good of the story simply out of “love” for this fictional person or persons you’ve created.

I’ve received emails and DMs from readers who seem incredibly shocked about the death(s) of certain individuals within The Geek (that pulp novel I was talking about…out now!) and how these deaths broke their heart and they didn’t understand how I could kill them off.

My response is always the same. “Do you feel it worked for the story? Do you think their deaths were necessary?”

And luckily, for the most part, their answers are the same. “Yes.” They didn’t like it, they thought perhaps a narrow escape would have been better for these characters, but all admitted in the end, that the overall story would have lost quite a bit of its realism and intensity if these two characters had survived.

Now I will say that while I didn’t mind killing off one of these characters, because I wasn’t all that attached to them. This other character’s death in the book was troubling. I loved him (or her, no spoilers). I really did. I wrote a few chapters where this character survived or got the upper hand in a few different ways but it just didn’t work.

Within the mythology of The Geek, if this one specific character had survived, it would have changed everything. Gary (the main character) would not have been as affected as he was. The world would not have felt as real and/or desperate as it does.

If I had betrayed the mythology I created, because I listened to my heart, it would have been a disservice to the ultimately, poor, dead, son (or daughter) of a gun whose death, while evidently tragic was incredibly important.

Heartless. One must always be heartless. Break the rules of the world you create and you break the story.

Speaking of which, next week I’ll be starting a series of micro-stories, which I haven’t done in a while and people have been asking for. Hopefully you’ll enjoy them.

In the meantime, why not go grab a copy of The Geek. It’s available on Amazon.com in paperback and ebook. It’s also available now in paperback in both the UK and Canada on amazon as well.

Of course it’s available as an ebook from every place you can get an ebook, be it itunes, B&N and Kobol to name a few.

Here’s a link to amazon.com http://amzn.to/1MwzPG6

And Amazon.co.uk http://amzn.to/1NM5GUN

Wanna ask me a question? Wanna nerd out together with all us cool book nerds. Well then come on over to goodreads and hang out.  http://bit.ly/1XpMF4k

Would you like to hear me whine, complain and bitch? Well then the Stuff n Stuff podcast is exactly what you’re looking for. Once a week, for about thirty minutes I sit down with my bro-host and we pick a topic to discuss. We then stay on topic for about 30 seconds before the whole thing derails, it’s quite fun.  http://bit.ly/1KOLDsH

I’ve launched my incredibly mediocre Youtube channel and continue to work on programming and content for it. I hate to say it, but I really am having fun so come on by I’m doing a myriad of things, none of which make any sense.

Here’s a link to click  http://bit.ly/1Sf9MXN  and then why not subscribe and like my videos, don’t cost nothin’

Follow me on twitter, I always follow back unless you’re a porn bot or trying to sell me followers.  http://bit.ly/1YIWqZA

And there’s facebooking to be had cuz that’s still a thing.  http://bit.ly/fnbrjwp

And hey, why not instagram which I occasionally post on, when I’m not looking at pictures of food or cosplay hotties (don’t judge me! Don’t you dare judge me!) http://bit.ly/1XgDJfc

I really appreciate you stopping by. I hope you have a great rest of the week, an awesome weekend and a “not suck as crap” Monday.

I’ll see you all here next week. For now I’m off to kick a puppy. Shit! I mean breakfast, I’m off to have a hearty breakfast…um….yeah.

Best,

Jonathan