happy new year. (insert noisemaker)
it's time for all of these grand "in 2010...." statements to come to fruition. are you ready? i'm in a humble, reflective mood once again. re-reading a charming piece by good friend and brilliant writer vaughn richardson (check him out here) that has awakened these frozen creative juices in me. reading his words always produce this chain of thought:
1. envy
2. reflection
3. brainstorming
always.
while praising a piece he shared with me, then re-reading an OLD short story he let me read years back, i fell in love with writing all over again. we discussed my plans to SERIOUSLY hone, tweak, and improve my skills and he pushed me to revisit my (limited...hesitant...) attempts at fiction.
i searched and dug up an old short story i began and abandoned in '08. i hit a creative brick wall and ran for the hills after this piece. i humbly shared it with a select few. good feedback, but i assumed they were just being polite. fiction is a whole new world to me--one i'd love to venture into and fully explore...some day.
well, in an effort to hold true to this years goal to work on my literary career, i'll share what will later be known as my first attempt at fiction. don't rip it to shreds, lol. i was a newbie at the time.
so...yea. here goes.
*runs and hides*
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Alone.
That is the first word that came to mind as he reflected on his current state.
"Another Friday night spent trapped in this dungeon," he sighed to himself, taking another cautious sip of steaming black tea.
Jill Scott's passion-filled voice provided the evening's soundtrack as he sat Indian-style on the polished hardwood floor, his broad shoulders hunched over his laptop. He no longer questioned why clouded thoughts became clearer and words flowed more freely from this particular spot on the floor than the severely overpriced honey-colored plush leather couch across the room.
From his spot on the floor he divulged the most intimate details of the past thirteen months of his life to the blank Word document before him. This laptop probably holds more of his secrets than some of his closest friends, he thought as he reached for the oversized mug. To his left, a barely eaten box of chicken fried rice sat at room temperature. All electric light was banished from the apartment. Lit candles of various scents and degrees of extinction were sprinkled about the living room floor. Each candle had witnessed its share of passion and pain, proud highs and pathetic lows. Sigh. His favorite, Cinnamon Desire, was closest to him as usual. It always triggered memories of summertime a dozen years ago at his grandmother's perfect Virginia home. Calypso blaring from the record player on the mantle. Home-made empanadas baking in the oven. Cinnamon incense burning on the kitchen counter. Happy times. His growing smile dissolved as his mind sharply returned to the present.
Tonight, like countless others, he passed up a night of roaming the streets of Manhattan in favor of solitude. Aside from the delivery boy at the Chinese restaurant three blocks south, he hadn't spoken a word to another human being in over 11 hours. And that was just fine. "Melodramatic," is how his brother would describe this scene. And he would quickly disagree. This was his idea of peace. Only a night like tonight could help him realize what he had refused to admit for months. Despite being one of eight million residents in the city that never slept, Jordan Cropper was painfully lonely...
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and scene.
wasn't sure where to go from here. i considered expanding on his reasons for loneliness and perhaps introduce other characters, but chickened out. at the time, i recall it being VERY loosely based on my feelings at the time. *shrug*
well, there it is.
off to see what else i can create.
love.peace.white rice.
*chris.alexander
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3 comments/Ashanti Terminator 5000 credits for this post
love it more than i did in 2008. this is a gem. run with it. "Each candle had witnessed its share of passion and pain, proud highs and pathetic lows." not sure if i plucked that from the text in 2008, but i'm bringing it up now. it's brilliant. that sentence holds so much depth and power. keep doing what you're doing. i think i have an idea i want you for. i'll be in touch. x
I like! Good beginning...that's what I hate about writing. You get going and then BOOM! Bloackage. SMH