Author: jrushing1

on by

Entry 43.1.12 – 10/08/2013

 

 

Why not you? Why not?

I will tell you why. Nothing ever allowed to come to fruition. You never can start anything. With other people that is.

Today at the laundromat though, you said hello to someone. To a woman. Of course she said hello first. That’s a given. This is you we’re talking about. But you responded. You responded. And quite well I might add. At least you think so.

“Hello”, she said, which startled you. So out of the ordinary. There she was, a woman about your age, a hippie for sure. Striped tights, the maroon corduroy skirt, olive drab surplus shirt, and hair that smelled of incense. It was like she was wearing a uniform. We are a long way from San Francisco, both in time and space, but here she was and so friendly. They are an open bunch those hippies. Backward and juvenile, yes, but open.

“Hello”, you said.

“I think your machine just finished”, she said.

“Oh, thank you. I should take them out I suppose” you said.

She smiled and nodded. Can you believe it? A conversation with no awkwardness. Not on your part or hers.

You are used to the recoil, Gerald. They never think you can see it so they don’t think they are being rude but you see it. You see a lot. You are more perceptive then most people think. (more…)

on by

Today is a big day. I’ve been sitting on this short story for a long time now and I’ve decided to serialize it here for your reading enjoyment. The length of installments will vary and this first episode will be the longest. Bear with me. The story falls squarely in the horror genre. It is written for an adult audience so language and themes may be too strong depending on your personal disposition.

With that,  I give you episode one of Crisp New Pages.

Darren could feel the cold sting of rain splashing his skin where his jeans had come up past his socks. Half his husky body stuck out from under the tall cedar fence separating his home from his neighbor’s. The other half was dusty and dry underneath the shed that used to be his castle. The shed that he and his best friend Kenny had commandeered after old Mrs. Kraft moved in with her son and left the property abandoned. Kenny, who was a much smaller twelve year old than Darren, had already shimmied under the fence and up through the boys’ secret entrance, aka, a loose floorboard.

“I’m stuck”, said Darren as he felt the wet grass starting to soak the thighs of his pants. His frustrated grunts sent dry soil into clouds around his face. “Come give me a pull.”

Kenny stuck his small, ferret-like head out through the secret entrance and smiled at Darren in a way that made fun with out the need for words.

“Shut up and help me.”

“I didn’t say anything. Chill. You’re so jumpy”, said Kenny as he dropped though the hole and pulled at both Darren’s arms.

He slid loose and was relieved to be free but the feeling quickly faded. His gut told him this was a terrible idea. Mr. Heinz, the new resident of the house, had gone into a rage when he caught them in the shed the last time. In Kenny’s mind however, the boys had a rightful claim to the building. He said something about squatters’ rights though Darren had no idea what that meant. He thought it might have been better to move on to a new game but they were best friends and he couldn’t let Kenny do this on his own. (more…)

on by

Okay so you know the situation. Your characters are about to set out on foot for an epic journey. You want your readers to understand just how long and grueling this task will be. You want them to be able to imagine every drop of sweat, every blister, every pee break night camped out under the stars. So you sit down to calculate how backbreaking this journey will be. After five minutes of earnest trying you spend fifteen more minutes becoming red-faced and irrationally angry. Ain’ t so easy is it?

So what do you do? You say something like:

Horatio set off on a journey of many miles. His path was long and winding blah blah blah.

I’m sorry but you gave up. I understand why you gave up but still…

Or maybe you went halfway but forgot about certain rules involving time and space. For example maybe you wrote something like:

Hunky Savestheday put boot to earth, braving fifty miles of blinding snow. All through the night he plodded, exhausted and shivering, and by morning he had arrived. 

Really? Fifty miles… on foot… overnight? Maybe your story is set in a universe with cold fusion rocket boots but chances are you just didn’t do the work. The math is off and it messes with readers’ minds. At least readers like me.

Fear not! Your treacherous path can be decoded rather simply using a little tool developed by a runner.

Gmaps Pedometer Example

Gmaps Pedometer is a website using the Google Maps platform that allows runners to plot their routes along streets, hiking paths, really anywhere feet are allowed. The program automatically conforms to the bends in the road and records the distance as you add to your desired route. It uses a latitude/longitude based algorithm to accurately supply the distance for any path you can dream up. The last step is to divide your distance by the walking/running/biking/horseback riding/… speed of your character’s and *poof * you have an accurate time frame for your character’s arduous trek. A quick web search will give you average figures for walking speed ranging from 2.5 to 4 miles per hour.

And for those of you writing a Steampunk bicycle western (that’s gotta be a thing right?) there is a cycling function that steers your chosen path along only bike-worthy routes.

So now dear reader you have been equipped. Go forth before your characters go forth and make that journey accurate.