Fragments of Fiction

Drunk Blogging for Amateurs showed up on my radar the other day and made me think about what I am doing as a writer today and what I hope accomplish…tomorrow.

It got me thinking about how I talk about being the author of 39 unpublished books and how even though it is tongue-in-cheek there is truth to it.

I have a ton of stories floating around my head and I need to do something about it. Those of you who are among the long time readers have heard me talk about this before but this time around I have been thinking about how how to organize the parts and pieces I have so that I can follow through.

Last night I came across You Can’t Break A Broken Heart and decided I would spend a few moments pulling some more excerpts from the Fragments of Fiction pieces that are floating around here and other blogs to see what I could come up with.

It is not a comprehensive list nor do I think these are necessarily the best of the best, but you have to start somewhere because a story that isn’t written down or shared in some way might as well be dead.

About Writers & Managing Expectations

I am not a writer because I get paid to write or because I am a dreamer who puts words down on paper or on screen.

I am a writer because it is who and what I am. I am a storyteller and I always have been, from the moment the preschool teachers told my parents about what I came up with to know and forever.

But it took a long while for me to accept all of the parts and pieces that come with it. Took a long while to accept that it comes with a few catches and that if I wanted to accept it I needed to take all of it.

Part of that is managing my expectations, not the readers but mine because I have been my biggest enemy and impediment to doing more than I have done.

So here is the first step for me in 2015, links, lyrics and words. Time to do more than just talk.

Time to Drink Up.

“I can’t believe you own a ranch and that you never told me about it.”

“It wasn’t something I tried to hide from you. When you went silent on me I figured you needed time to take care of your own stuff and I wasn’t about to just wait around for you.”

She waited for him to hand her a beer before she replied.

“What happened to the guy who told me he would wait for me forever? Guess he didn’t really mean it, did he.”

“There is a distinct difference between living my life and waiting for you.”

“Oh yeah, how are you going to spin that one.”

“There is no spin here at all. After the divorce I took my time to clear my head and get rid of all of the stuff I didn’t want or need. Part of reducing the clutter included figuring out if I could get some of the things I really wanted and not focusing solely on what I need.

I wanted a place to write. I wanted somewhere with a lot of space to roam around that wasn’t in the middle of the city but not so far away I couldn’t grab a good meal that some one else cooked for me and whomever I wanted to spend time with.

Finding the right place was something that filled want and need. I have to have a place for writing and I wanted something that met other needs. This one serves both purposes.”

She took a long sip and continued to walk around the house.

“Are you done with your inspection yet?”

“Who said I am inspecting it.”

“Me. The same guy that you told to go away more than once.”

“You don’t listen very well, do you. If you did you would have answered my question. What happened to the guy who said he wouldn’t wait?”

Dark eyes looked straight into his and he laughed. She was a good 12 feet away but it still felt like she was inches away.

“What is so funny? Don’t laugh at me.”

“I am not laughing at you. I am laughing with you. Trust me, this is a good thing. The guy who said he would wait for you was told by you not to. Took a while for me to take on that part but I did because I didn’t know if you would ever get your act together and decided I needed to take care of some stuff.”

“Yeah, you probably went around banging every chick you could find. Makes me feel so very special.”

“Woman, you jump to conclusions far too quickly. I didn’t go looking for someone to keep my bed warm. I needed time to myself and I didn’t have any interest in worrying about what anyone else wanted or needed.

So I did exactly as I said, I sold or gave away almost everything but books, music and a couple of pieces of furniture. If you haven’t noticed this place is in need of a few items.”

“Yeah, I was wondering if your idea of wide open spaces applied to the indoors as well as outdoors.”

“I sort of figured that one day you’d want to be able to go shopping and decided there wasn’t a reason to waste money on things you might not like.”

“You mean you didn’t furnish this place because you were convinced I would come running back to you and that we would ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after together.”

He laughed.

“I am tempted to say I have pictured you riding, but it is never a horse.”

“Very funny.”

“I didn’t know for certain what would happen. I am not going to lie and say I didn’t think this was possible but if it didn’t happen I would have eventually gotten around to getting stuff.”

She shook her head and asked him again how long he had been living there.

“I have owned it for a good 16 months but until nine months or ago I hadn’t been living in it full time.”

“You have been here for nine months and you own what, a bed, some chairs, a desk and of course a big television. Where do the kids sleep? What do they do with their stuff?”

“I moved in during the school year so they haven’t really had much time to spend here. Mostly I have gone to see them, but there are six bedrooms here so if someone wanted to have lots of family here there is plenty of room for it.”

“Hadn’t gotten around to it, had you. You do a lousy job of pretending you hadn’t thought a lot of this out. You can fool your readers, but you can’t fool me.”

He shook his head again.

“I am not trying to fool anyone. If anyone fits the bill of trying to fool someone it is you and if I was you I wouldn’t buy what you are selling.”

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head but when he pulled her close she didn’t push him away. And when he broke their embrace she was the one who made a comment about his not being allowed to leave before he kissed her.

They ate dinner on the porch and watched the sun go down. Several drinks later they were still on the porch sitting in silence and enjoying each other’s company.

“It is late. If you want to stay tonight you can have my bedroom.”

“Where are you going and why aren’t you going to be in it?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was being too forward.”

“I kissed you on the lips. Didn’t that tell you something.”

“I didn’t think that meant that anything more would happen.”

She shook her head again.

“For a smart guy you can be really dense. Sometimes you are such a man. Take me to bed.”

“When did you get that? Please tell me it is new”

He just shook his head and smiled. She punched him in the arm and he pretended to glare at her.

“It is rude to just laugh at me. Stop it.”

“I am not laughing at you. I think it is kind of cute to see you off kilter. The woman who is so organized and on top of her game is like a high school girl. But that is ok, ‘cuz you are my girl.”

He knew she loved hearing that and got the smile he expected, but he made a point not to point it out. Sometimes silence was smarter.

“It is new and I got it with you in mind. Sort of represents how I have to be an acrobat to be with you. See how that poor guy is being put to work by that lady. Might be easier to be gay.”

She hit him again in the arm.

“That is not nice.”

“You don’t like it when I am nice. You like the mean hard ass who doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything.”

He watched her absorb his words and saw her try to figure out if he was serious or not.

“You’ll make yourself crazy trying to analyze what I said. Why don’t you just ask me if I meant it.”

“Why not just tell me. I hate playing games.”

“You know I do too, but sometimes I like teasing you. Can’t pull your pigtails, but I suppose I could pull your ponytail.”

For a moment they just stared at each other and then he told her she always knew his mind.

“I don’t know how you know these things any more than I know what is going on in your head, but I do…more or less.”

When she didn’t say anything he reached over and took her hand.

“Don’t over think things. I may tease you from time to time but you know damn well we are good for each other. We communicate better than most and it is not a stretch to say we are best friends.

I don’t know how that happened. Don’t know how we managed to get through all of the crap we have been through but we did. And I know that we have always picked up as if we were never apart. We can sit together in silence and be perfectly happy and we never get tired of each other. That is rare.

And after all the craziness that led to this point I am willing to say whatever magic was bestowed upon us isn’t going to run out. Stick us on an island for 50 years and we’ll be content because we have each other.”

She smiled and said thank you and asked him to turn out the light.

“I could do this for the rest of my life.”

“So could I.”

(Editor’s note: A version of this was published here first).

I didn’t know how to begin this post, didn’t know where to go with it or how to make it tell the tale I want to tell in a such a way that you wouldn’t have to read it more than once because you wouldn’t have to read to know the truth of my words.

Sometimes the hardest things to say are to the person who you most need to hear what is written upon your heart. You struggle to come up with the letters that serve as the best teammates, the ones that don’t struggle with the others and understand how to take a person by the hand and gently lead them to where you need them to go.

“And I need you more than want you
And I want you for all time
And the Wichita Lineman is still on the line

And I need you more than want you
And I want you for all time
And the Wichita Lineman is still on the line”
Wichita Linemen– Glen Campbell

Somewhere along that open road I found something mystical and magnificent waiting for  me. Somewhere along the road I found what I had spent my entire life looking for and I recognized that I was driving away from where I was supposed to be, driving away from where I wanted to be but doing it because it had to be done.

And as the miles passed beneath my tires there were more than a few moments where I felt like I had to go back, had to stop the car to turn around and get you.

Get you because you are supposed to be on my right side, sharing adventures and living the minutes and moments with me. It is not supposed to be as it is now, not supposed to be one apart from the other but sometimes that is how it goes.

But it doesn’t have to be that way forever.

“So I looked at the scenery,
She read her magazine;
And the moon rose over an open field.
“Kathy, I’m lost”, I said,
Though I know she was sleeping.
“I’m empty and aching and
I don’t know why.”
America– Simon & Garfunkel

Every moment apart felt like forever and the farther I went the further it all felt.   I took a deep breath and told myself it was silly and foolish to act so childish.

But when I saw lightning fly across the sky and heard the sound of thunder I realized why my heart was pounding, saw that twister heading straight for the car and knew that when it hit things would get nasty.

Pulled over, ran for cover, took a deep breath and as my body was battered I closed my eyes, saw your eyes looking back at mine and heard music playing.

“The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love
To the dark and the endless skies”
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face– Roberta Flack

When the roar of thunder faded I opened my eyes and told myself we weren’t in Kansas any more. The car was gone and I was left alone under a sky streaked with flecks of blue and gray.

That highway wasn’t empty any more but I didn’t recognize any of the buildings I saw or the names of the places on the signs alongside of it. For a moment I wanted to scream because all that I had worked for seemed to gone, all the blood sweat and tears was for naught.

And then I heard something, couldn’t say what or where it came from, just knew I needed to find it. But I was exhausted from all that I had been through so I headed off to the side of the road and put my back up against the tree.

Decided I would wait for nightfall and follow our moon back to whence I had came. As I closed my eyes I saw yours looking back at me and heard that song again.

“Tuesday, afternoon,
I’m just beginning to see,
Now I’m on my way,
It doesn’t matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I’ve got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.”
Tuesday, afternoon– The Moody Blues

There is magic in a heart that has been torn apart and rebuilt.

Don’t know if she would agree or maybe I should say I don’t know if she would admit she does. She might. She has surprised me more than once, first by reminding me that love was so much greater and deeper than I had remembered or believed.

If I told you about how she squeezed my bicep and gently held on to it as we walked you might roll your eyes or not care. You might not care or understand if I told you how every time she slipped her hand into mine it felt like it could stay forever and that is ok.

You don’t have to understand, accept or believe because it is not your deal, it is ours.

And if I told you about how she made sure I got the scan that confirmed my heart was clear of obstruction you might nod your head and say so what again and that would still be ok.

Ok because it is the little moments that matter and when you lie awake in the dark and think about whose eyes you see during night or day it makes an impact on you.

The Rituals Of Life

I don’t know if she and I ever discussed the rituals of life but they exist. Some of them are big things and some are little but I liked those we had time to develop together and those yet to come.

If I told you she is an Eishes Chayil, a Woman of Valor you might ask for a deeper explanation. She’d probably yell at me for saying it, tell me it is not true or to think harder about what I am saying but in the quiet of the night she’d wonder why I said it.

And if she asked, I’d answer…

Because.

Sometimes there is joy in being non specific, especially when people know you are capable of communicating with precision and detail except sometimes you can’t.

Sometimes you can’t because you asking someone to explain why a sky painted in streaks of orange, blue and red is beautiful or why certain chords make your heart jump.

Sometimes you can’t because your fingers extend into the sky and touch the face of god, because sometimes when two people share a moment in time it changes them and lasts forever.

And that is why I look for rituals.

Because sometimes the simple ritual is the most meaningful and most beautiful. Sometimes sitting next to or across from someone who has eyes the light dances in and a smile that lights up their face is the most meaningful thing of all.

Could be pizza and beer or a fine steak and cocktails–neither matters because the two of you take that moment in time and transform it.

Sometimes We Call It Melodrama

Sometimes we ask hard questions and fear makes us call the answer or the question melodramatic. We ask the other what would happen if they were to hear we had died in a car crash or what they would do if they heard we were terminally ill.

It is not because we hope for or want such things but because sometimes that piece of us that doesn’t operate based upon sight or sound but upon gut feeling instructs us to pay attention to losing the opportunity to have more moments.

Sometimes you react and respond by asking, what would you do if you heard I died. What would you do if I called you and said that there was a more definite answer to how long I was going to be walking upon this earth.

Would you respond by saying our time has always been finite and this is all we were granted or would you say no. Would you do what you had to do to try to slow or stop those sands of time.

The answers are important but hopefully we will never learn for real what they are.

But if I said it would tear apart what had been rebuilt it would be honest and if I said I would want you to rebuild yours so would that.

Still, I don’t really worry or think often about such things. Don’t do it because the numbers say there is no real reason to do so. The numbers that the actuaries use and that statisticians rely upon says don’t and that speaks volumes.

Not as much as the feeling in my gut or the song in my heart because those are the truer measures I monitor. Don’t care if that makes me sound like a crack or a crank.

I do as I do and feel as I feel and none can tell me that is right or wrong, it simply is.

She Saved My Heart

Those four words should be enough. They should be enough for any person or so the Greek poets might say because some of them love their tragedies.

They love a hero with a tragic flaw. They love to tell a story about magic and magnificence destroyed by some simple and obvious flaw.

But there are other poets and other writers who dare to paint a different picture. Ones who understand that a heart can be broken and rebuilt many times and that there is more magic in the night sky than that exposed by small slivers of moonlight.

Some dare to walk upon the long and winding road because they know they are the kind of person who takes the long way home.

Those who dare to be more, to have more and to do more have to accept the burden of walking through the fallow fields as well as the green. The only way to get to the other side is to go through.

And once you accept that you survived the moments that you thought would stop you in your tracks and understand how to read the map upon the scars, well then you are on your way, aren’t you.