Here's the entire short story I've been writing for the past week or two. It's based on a song I wrote called "If the Good Lord's Willing (and the Creek Don't Rise)": There wasn’t anything wrong with Red Hawthorn that a couple eggs couldn’t fix, or, at the very least, help. He got up Friday morning …
Tag: writing
Where’d It Go?
I was up this morning at a little past seven. I fixed breakfast. I washed dishes. I paid bills. I talked with my mother for about an hour when she came over. I wrote a while. About an hour ago, I lunched on peanut-butter crackers, mixed nuts and Diet Coke. I played my guitar for …
If the Good Lord’s Willing, Part Three
Herewith is the continuing narrative of my latest serial short story, concocted from one of my songs. Red frowned when he heard the sound of a country band, really more like a rock band playing country songs, from outside. This was bad for two reasons. The first was that he and Andy couldn’t set …
Signs of the Accelerating Times
Here’s what happens when you’re over 50 years old but interact with lots of people who are younger. You can’t believe they don’t know how great Johnny Unitas was until you realize that Unitas to them is Red Grange to you. How comes kids don’t ever seem to ride their bikes? Tattoos. Yecchh. What do …
If the Good Lord’s Willing, Part One
Here’s the beginning of another short story. There wasn’t anything wrong with Red Hawthorn that a couple eggs couldn’t fix, or, at the very least, help. He got up Friday morning the same way he got up most mornings, which was stooped over and hurting. Coffee got his juices flowing, but thankfully, a blood-pressure …
Furlough Blues, Part Five
This short story begins with a song and ends with a surprise. Months passed and the dirty feelings subsided in Jerry Lowndes. It was just another job, just errands he had to run, like going to the post office or shopping for groceries. It paid the bills. The packages had no smell. They were …
Furlough Blues, Part Four
The expansion of a song into a short story – by the end, one will have little to do with the other – continues with its penultimate part. As clueless as he had felt at any time in his life, Jerry Lowndes knocked on the door of Room 227 of the Nocono Lodge, where …
A Nice Break From Desolation
He’d have never wanted anyone to know it, but, yeah, Jack Pinson was drinking, even though it wasn’t even noon on Tuesday, when he got a text message from Hank McGonigald. Hank wanted to get together and have lunch the next time Pinson swung through Atlanta. I hate to fucking tell you, Hank, but I …
I Got Cash Money
This story, also based on a song of mine, is very short. Harvey Phelan was stranded magnificently, holed up in the last place he’d expect to be on Thanksgiving. As best he could tell, the body of water outside the window was called Alton Bay. The little village about a half mile away was either …
Stuck In A Rut
About four years ago, I wrote a song called "Stuck in a Rut." A couple weeks ago, I decided to expand it into a short story. I wrote it and posted it in seven installments. Here's the whole story of Josie Swenson and Tripp Fallaw, at least for a week. It was a Thursday, but …
Nightrider's Lament 