Category: writing

Double Seduction (14)

~ Meg ~ 92 Comments

Fictional Kevin and I have collaborated on Double Seduction: a novella of suspense. We both hope you have enjoyed this story.  Because this is the last chapter!  Find the previous chapters here.

Chapter 14 – The Solution

“The rope, Melody. Get it, now!” Anton commanded.

Mel, still in shock and reeling from what had just happened —from what she had done— shook herself into action. “The rope, the rope, the rope,” she repeated, willing herself to move. She stumbled toward the SUV while Anton lifted David from the ground and hoisted him over his shoulder.

Anton thanked the weather gods for the cold and drizzle that had kept the joggers and dog walkers at home. Hopefully the gods would continue to smile upon them today. The nearby woods, fifty feet away would provide ideal cover and a solution to the problem at hand. The problem. The solution. Anton was an expert at dealing with problems. It was what he did, it was who he was. This was just another mission for him, albeit with more personal consequences if he failed. He could not fail. Not for Melody. Not if he was to have her for his own.

A few dozen paces into the grove of dense trees, Anton found his solution— a stately old sycamore tree with a thick branch about twelve feet from the ground. Anton laid David’s limp form at the base of the tree and searched him. His cell phone was in the right rear pocket of his khakis. Anton swiped it open and scrolled through the few pathetic contacts David had stored, till he found one he could use. “Mom.”

He quickly scanned some their recent exchanges to assess the tone of David’s interactions with his mother. This had to be perfect or it would all fall to pieces. He typed, “Mom, I’m sorry. Life’s a bitch and then you die. I’m just speeding up the process.” Good. That had just the kind of snarky tone that David had used with his mother. Why would his last words be any different?

Anton wiped the phone clean with the hem of his t-shirt and placed the phone in David’s hand to get fresh prints on it before tucking it back in his rear pocket. Where the hell was Melody? Leaving David where he lay, Anton returned to the edge of the woods to watch for her.

Mel’s hand slipped on the wet door handle. She was shaking so hard, she could barely keep a grip on it. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed a fist to her sternum and took deep calming breaths. Just like Anton had taught her. There. Better. Focus. Behind the driver’s seat on the floor was the coil of nylon rope. Mel grabbed it and ran back to the spot where she’d left Anton with David. Anton called to her from the woods. “Melody, this way.”

Following the sound of his voice, she found him several paces in, out of sight of the fountain and walking path. He took the rope and grabbed her hand, pulling her further into the woods.

“Anton, wait,” she gasped. “We can’t do this. We can’t.”

“Melody, trust me, this is the best way…” He spun her around to face him. “It is the only way,” he stated, gripping her arms. Giving her a little shake, he growled, “I will deal with this. You will remain calm. Just do as I say.”

He released her with a final shake that had her stumbling back and falling to the ground. Anton returned to his mission, dropping to his knees beside the still form of David. Uncoiling the rope, he continued, “Who do you think will have to answer for this, eh? Do you realize what could happen if you call the police? They will investigate. They will read everything that you have written to one another. They will conclude that it was a lover’s spat, Melody. They will think that you killed him in anger.”

“But… but… Anton, it was self defense,” she said, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He… he was going to hit me. I… I just did what you trained me to do…”

“I know that. You know that. Will the police believe you?” He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. You run the risk of arrest, possibly prison depending on what they conclude.”

“Anton, you saw the whole thing,” she added quickly. “You can tell them what happened. You saw him attack me.” Her voice rose in desperation. “You can tell them…”

Anton ignored her. No he would not ‘tell them.’ He hadn’t counted on such a perfect solution to this dilemma. But here it was. The rival eliminated, the white knight could come to her rescue. And Melody would be forever bound to him over their shared secret.

Concentrate on the mission, he thought. He tossed the rope over the tree limb and wound it around the trunk. He had hoped Melody would help. She was too rattled to be of any use. He would do it alone.

Anton had tied a slipknot in the rope. He looped the rope around David’s neck and lifted him up to a sitting position. David Twitchell’s eyes flickered and he took a ragged sucking breath.

“Oh my god, he’s alive!” Mel gasped. She covered her mouth, the taste of rising bile at the back of her throat.

Then she watched in horror as Anton hauled him up by the rope, cutting off the already badly restricted airway until David, clawing at the rope, his eyes bulging and wild, his face turning a ghastly shade of purple, finally breathed his last. He swung back and forth on the improvised gallows like the pendulum of a clock. Only it felt as time were standing still. Mel didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Anton glanced at her and said, “Wait here. There is one more thing I need.”

Moments later —it felt like hours— Anton returned with a thick tree stump and placed it near enough to the swinging body to make it appear like David had stood on it before kicking it out of the way. Anton stepped back for a moment, his eyes darting over the entire scene. Yes, he thought. It all fit. An obvious suicide. No need to look further.

“Come on Melody,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We will go back to my house. I will take care of you.”

Tears rolled down Mel’s cheeks. “You could’ve saved him. Why? Why, Anton? Why didn’t you save him?”

Anton pulled her to her feet, gathered her into his arms. “I saved you, Melody. I did all of it for you. And now you belong to me.”

Exploding Brain Syndrome

~ Meg ~ 41 Comments

The other kind of writer’s block…

Ah, writer’s block — that scary situation in which you sit staring at the blank page or screen and can’t conjure a single thing to write. It’s a common occurrence, happens to nearly all of us at some point. Once in a while it can be so debilitating that a writer may throw in the towel and give up for good. That is the writer’s block we are all familiar with.

Sometimes, though, the opposite situation challenges us — that is, having too many ideas clogging up our brains. There are several ways exploding brain syndrome presents itself.

When we first manifest a desire to write, it may not be clear what type of writing we want to do or what we might actually be good at. Let’s suppose that ultimately your desire is to write a novel. That is a daunting task to tackle without any writing experience. You decide to start a blog, follow other writers to see what they’re doing. Suddenly you are exposed to multiple writing styles, genres, and subject matter. Micro-fiction, short stories, serial fiction, personal journals, poetry in all its varieties… It’s all good! You want to try everything. And you can and should.

But… just try one or two things at a time. Don’t attempt everything all at once. I love the idea of micro-fiction as a starting point for story-telling. It forces a writer to be concise, to choose words carefully so as to convey the entire story in a small package. Six words stories, thirteen words stories, one hundred words stories — all of these types of challenges are floating around Bloglandia. Try doing one of those every week. Or try a poetry challenge, perhaps a haiku or a limerick.  Notice I said or not and?  The point is if you try to do it all at once, you will be very unfocused. You won’t excel at anything.

If you are an avid reader, the material you read might spark an idea. Or several hundred. (Exaggeration for emphasis!) That happens to me all the time. Some little side plot or one of the secondary characters sticks in my head and I wonder what kind of story they have to tell me. That’s what your notebooks, index cards or files on your computer are good for. Save all those good ideas for further exploration at a later date. For now, pick one and concentrate on it.

Even experienced writers can have exploding brains. You would think that after a while, you’d start to run out of new stories to tell but sometimes the opposite happens. A story can take on a life of its own, turning into a complicated mess that becomes unmanageable. Why? It can be difficult to bring a story to a conclusion. Even a well-plotted and outlined story might take an unexpected detour. You introduce a twist you hadn’t originally anticipated, but it’s so good you can’t ignore it! It must be written! That’s fine. Actually, that’s great! Keep going with it. But go back and review your outline, rework it so that the story doesn’t end up becoming “War and Peace” (300,000+ words)!

Alternatively, maybe the whole story works. With a novel, there’s nothing that says you can’t finish up the main story arc, leave a cliffhanger for the sequel, and publish what you have. Or alternatively, finish the whole thing and edit the hell out of it. You may find, upon review, that you have a lot of unnecessary filler. That is inevitable. My first book was over 110k words – way too long for the genre. I edited it down to 91k. That’s a lot to lose. So take a good look at what you’ve got and see where you can trim. If you don’t find that much to cull, outline what you have and look for natural breaks in the action. See if one of those breaks would make a good spot to pause the story for the sequel.

In the end, it seems that having too many ideas can be as debilitating as not having any ideas at all. The key to successfully overcoming exploding brain syndrome is to approach your ideas in an organized manner. Be meticulous about recording your ideas in a file — either paper or electronic. While experimenting with other types of writing, approach each one at a time.  Don’t lose sight of your ultimate goal.  And more importantly, don’t let your brain explode.

Another tequila sunrise…

~ Meg ~ 44 Comments

Week 18 in The Year of Drinking Adventurously – TEQUILA!

Yes, tequila, my old friend… we have some stories, don’t we?

I think of tequila as the official party booze.  (And rum, too.  But that’s another chapter.)  Who doesn’t love a good Margarita on a hot summer day?  Don’t answer that — it’s rhetorical.  Thursday is Cinco de Mayo – not Mexican Independence Day, like most people think.  Rather it’s a day that commemorates a decisive battle won against the French Army.  And an excuse for Americans to get drunk on someone else’s holiday.  (We do that for St. Patrick’s Day, too.  Any old excuse works, really…)

Tequila is made from the blue agave plant, Unknownmust be distilled in Mexico to be classified as tequila, but may be bottled elsewhere.  Not all tequila is 100% agave tequila, so read your labels.  The finer tequilas, like my current bottle, 1800 Silver Tequila Reserva, is 100% agave.  This is one spirit I would never cheap out on.  You will pay dearly for it, after the fact.

So how do I like to drink tequila?  Well, I do love me a Margarita -Meg is short for Margaret, after all.  But the first tequila cocktail I ever had was a Tequila Sunrise.  And yes, it was because of The Eagles’ song of the same name.  Obviously I discovered The Eagles before Jimmy Buffett or I’d have been Wastin’ Away in Margaritaville…  And I might not have been of legal drinking age at the time.  And I might have sneaked off to New York City with my friends.  To see Siouxie and the Banshees at Radio City Music Hall.  Epic…

The Tequila Sunrise:

3 ounces orange juice
1 1/2 ounce tequila
1/2 ounce grenadine

In a tall glass or Collins glass… The drink is mixed by pouring in Tequila, ice, then the juice and, lastly, the grenadine. The signature look of the drink depends on adding the grenadine without mixing with the other ingredients. A spoon may be used to guide the syrup down the glass wall to the bottom of the glass with minimal mixing.  Oh! Pretty!

Of course tequila makes for a fun shot, too.  You sprinkle salt on the space between your thumb and index finger, have a lemon wedge ready, pour a shot of tequila, and “lick, drink, suck.”  That is lick the salt, throw back the shot, and suck the lemon wedge, people.  I heard you all snickering.

Oh and the whole worm thing?  You know, eat the worm at the bottom of the bottle and you’ll have hallucinations?  That’s a myth. Skip the worm, that’s just gross, sorry.

So mosey on over to Lula’s blog and see how she tequila’d!