Some of you know that I have been writing for some time now but I’ve never had anything published in actual print – except for one political article which appeared in a local newsletter. The newsletter seems to have met its demise as it has never come out again since the issue with my article. I hope that there was no connection.
But it is fiction that I really wish to write. I could go around telling lies – that is fiction – but it’s not the same thing as writing fiction. And I have written some fiction stories as well as political articles and my blog articles here about other things (such as writing). You can find links on the right side of this page. So I have been looking at different websites to see what they can offer me in instruction to make my stories better.
One hint I’ve come across several times is to ’start late and finish early’. They mean to not take too much time leading into the action and not drag the story out after it is actually over. Let’s try this.
Elmer
Elmer screamed, “Oooooohhhhhhhhh!” as he fell off the thousand foot cliff.
The end.
Hmm. I don’t think that worked.
Another suggestion is to fully develop the characters, especially the main protagonist. Let’s try again.
Elmer
Thirty-two old Elmer Theodore Jones coughed. And he coughed again. The coughing woke him up from his lunchtime nap. It was a good thing too, since not only was it time to get back to work, which he really did not want to do, but he was having the dream again.
Elmer was 17 years old and wanted to go to town. He knew his Fiat 500 was out of gas so he took, without permission, the Ford F150 pickup truck belonging to his father, a man of German and Russian ancestry. Having stayed out much later then he was supposed to, he came barreling up the long drive at about 60 mph with the lights out so his mother, a women of English, French and Irish ancestry would not see him coming home. His parents were in his car – they had started out to look for him. The Fiat had stopped because the gas ran out and his father had shut the lights out to save the battery while he hiked back to the shed for the gas can. He had not gotten out of the car yet. Elmer saw them just seconds to late to stop or avoid hitting the Fiat and both of his parents were killed.
Elmer was so annoyed that the dream never ended before he hit the car. He coughed again. He was about to step out of the Orange Deliveries orange delivery truck number 312 and walk around it once. This would have been to help wake him up a little more before driving to his next delivery. That seemed too much like work. It was bad enough he often had to walk up 10 or 12 steps at some of the houses he delivered to. He slid his six foot, 200 pound body onto the driver’s seat. And he coughed.
Elmer thought about stopping to get a bite to eat. As usual he had not bothered to make a lunch so he’d slept through his lunch break. Also, as usual, he had only had time for a quick breakfast. He had microwaved some potato pancakes and poured lots of maple syrup over them for breakfast. He must remember to get more syrup because he had finished the bottle this morning. He had lots of the pancakes left because he made very large batches about once a month and froze most of them in small packages. That way he didn’t have to wash the dishes so often. He ate from paper plates using plastic forks.
Checking the door pocket, Elmer found a granola bar. It must have been put there by the night shift driver of the truck because it seemed fresh and it was not his. He wondered if Orange, his goldfish, would like it. Probably not, so Elmer ate it then threw the wrapper out the window. Thinking about Orange swimming in that huge fish tank, all by himself, made Elmer smile.
Picking up the next delivery ticket, Elmer suddenly started angrily shaking his brown haired head viciously back and forth. The address was his own apartment building with the apartment number where Sally lived. Sally was a woman a dozen years his senior, but Elmer was madly in love with her. She had three children, which Elmer did not like, as well as a husband (Elmer did not like him either). As he thought about it, Elmer decided that the package might be a gift from Sally’s husband. That changed his mood to happy again as he reasoned the husband might be out of town and sending a gift. So Sally would be there alone. Well, except for the brats. Now he was miserable again.
Well, he would fix them. He wouldn’t deliver the package. It was quite small and he could easily ditch it somewhere. He rubbed his thumbs together as he thought about telling his boss at Orange Deliveries that the package was never put on his truck. He just went on to the rest of his deliveries and his mood changed back and forth as he thought first about Sally, then, alternately, about her kids and husband.
When he brought the truck back into the yard at Orange Deliveries, he realized his car, with the windows wide open, sat right next to the truck entrance. He stopped and jumped out, coughed, and dropped Sally’s package into his car. He hoped nobody noticed him doing it.
On the way home Elmer decided to go to Flat Mesa and throw the package off the thousand foot cliff. He coughed, then turned the car in the right direction. Elmer knew he would have to throw the box from quite a distance since his acrophobia would not let him get too close to the edge. He picked up the package and coughed. He headed for the edge – but not too close. Rearing back with all his might, Elmer threw the box and it hit the ground about eight feet from the edge and skidded another six feet.
Slowly, Elmer walked toward the box. Not too close. He coughed. A little closer. He coughed again. Now, if he were to lay on the ground and stretch his arm he should be able to reach the box. He did that. Stretching as much as he could left his fingertips just inches from the package. He scooted his body just enough to be able to grasp the box. Pulling it back with him he scooted backwards for a couple of yards. Then, coughing, he stood up.
One more throw and the box went over the edge. It sounded like it hit something just below the top. Ever so slowly, Elmer inched forward so he could turn his blue eyes downward to see where the box landed. Not too close, he reminded himself. Not too close. Then he slipped.
Elmer screamed, “Oooooohhhhhhhhh!” as he fell off the thousand foot cliff.
The end.
Is that better? Still room for improvement. Back to the websites.
They’re really helping, don’t you think?