"Promises to Keep" Published by WICKED SHADOW PRESS

 

My short story “Promises to Keep” has been published by Wicked Shadow Press in their anthology FLASH OF THE DEAD: REQUIEM.

I must admit, it took me several hours a day for three days to write the 1,069 words that make up this story. That doesn’t sound like a lot of words, but, believe me, those words and I beat the stuffing out of each other! The submission guidelines required the story be less than 1,500 words. That limit didn’t bother me too much—at first.

It’s much easier to write a longer story, in my opinion, where you have lots of room to describe everything you want in your story. You can add tons of details about the characters, the plot, whatever you want to throw in. Descriptions of the action are easier to make clear when you have buckets of words to throw at the reader and get your point across.

A shorter story, however, can drive you up a wall.

Using a tried-and-true method of writing, I started composing “Promises to Keep” by dumping words from my brain onto my computer screen. I didn’t worry about spelling or what I was typing out, I was just slapping down words to create the best story the publisher had ever seen. A definite award winner. A classic story that children would study in school for the next six thousand years.

I was in the ZONE—that desired time when the world goes away and it’s only me and the story, hashing it out back and forth. I was getting to know the characters, building the creepy settings, and telling the story that would change the world.

 And then I typed THE END and snapped out of it, leaving my newly created world behind for the drab atmosphere of my office. I grabbed my water bottle and doused my thirsty throat, ready to check out the perfect number of words I had used to build my story.

 They say computers can’t lie, that they only show you what there is. Don’t you believe it!

 Mine said I had used 3,246 words. What!? That can’t be! I wasn’t writing that long!

 When I finally calmed down and got my breath, I grudgingly started in on the editing and paring down process to get the story to fit the publisher’s guidelines. As I said above, it took a long time to do that. But I love it! To see my words in print is such a thrill!

 Hey, wait a minute, here’s another submission call. A story about dragons. Cool, I’ve had one flying around in my brain for years now! How many words does this publisher…

 Two thousand! Are they completely nuts? What is wrong with them? It’s impossible to do such a short…

 The dragon circled the village…

Kevin Goes to The Bad Place

    Kevin Dever died and went to The Bad Place.  He was met at the gate by a very tall, ugly, mean-looking being that wore a pair of red coveralls.

    “Step on up to the gate,” the being said.  “Don’t be shy.”

    “Where am I?” Kevin asked.

    “The Bad Place,” the being said.

    “Who are you?”

     The being pointed to a button on his chest with the letters HBG written on it.  “That’s me.”

     “What does HBG stand for?”

     “Head Bad Guy.”  He pulled open a large leather book.  “Let’s see, Dever, Dever,” he mumbled, dragging a clawed finger down the pages.  “Dever, Dever, ah, here we are. Now to find the Kevins.”

    “What’s all this about?” Kevin asked.

    Head Bad Guy held up a bony hand.  “Shhhhh!  Not while I’m searching!”  He continued to scan the pages for a minute then shouted in triumph.  “Here it is!  Kevin Dever, age 38.”  He looked up.  “You died early, eh?”

    Kevin shrugged.  “I guess.  Last thing I remember, I was walking through the parking lot of a department store.”

    HBG referred back to the book.  “Flattened by a pickup truck full of watermelons.  Tsk, tsk, what a way to go.  Oh well, I guess it not up to us to decide.  Come on in, Kevin, your reservations are in order and your room is waiting.”  He stepped back and pushed open the gate.

    Kevin tried to resist, but someone (or something) pushed him from behind and he stumbled through.  “I think there’s been a mistake. . .”

    “Nope, can’t be.  If nothing else, we keep excellent records here.  You’re right where you belong.  Now, follow me.”  He started down a dark tunnel.

    “But I wasn’t a bad person!” Kevin had to walk fast to keep up.  “I went to church, paid my taxes, extremely faithful to my wife, never got drunk, and never hurt animals.”

    HBG chuckled.  “Yeah, I know.  Goodie-Two-Shoes, that’s you.”

    “Then why did I end up in this place?”

     “Because you weren’t completely good.  Everybody in this wing was a do-gooder like you, but for one thing. A terrible, awful, inexcusable thing.”

    Kevin frowned as they stopped in front of black door.  “What?”

    HBG rumbled deep in his chest. “Everybody gets a room in which they pay off their crimes against humanity. This room is yours.” He pulled the door open on an expanse of blackness.  The room appeared to be immense, going on for distances immeasurable.  Stars filled the void, shining with a soft, pleasing light.

    Kevin stepped to the threshold. “It’s beautiful in there!  This is punishment?”

    “It’s supposed to be.”

     “Looks like somebody in your Production Department messed up. If this is punishment, give me all you got!”

    “So glad you like it.  Now, just step inside and you can begin.”

    “Great, can’t wait to get started star gazing.”

    There was a click as HBG flipped a large light switch.  The stars were no longer stars but thousands and thousands of shopping carts lined up as far as the eye could see, and beyond.

    “What the...” Kevin started.

    “Your punishment, Kevin Dever,” HBG announced, his voice echoing over and over in the expanse, “is to take all of these shopping carts, one by one, and put them into the proper holding bins.  You’ll have to go through a long training period since you don’t seem to have gotten any practice while you were alive.”

Kevin’s scream reverberated throughout The Bad Place, but there was no one there to hear it.

***

Okay, okay, so I’m exaggerating a little here (a little?), but would it kill people to walk a few more feet from their car and return their shopping carts to the designated area?

Obviously so.

 

Writers, enter the Scribes Valley annual writing contest: click here for more information.

 

"The Trick"

So happy to announce my dark poem, "The Trick" has been accepted by Ravens Quoth Press for their upcoming anthology, EVERMORE 2, Edgar Allen Poe inspired poetry.  

Publication updates will be posted as I receive them.

Publication dates forthcoming.