All Authors Blog has been taken over by Queen of Spades. For this week, she will do a bit of guest posting on some of her works, leading up to more conversation about her upcoming poetry collection Spaded Truths 2: Life-O-Suction.
Today, she will discuss some of her adventures in short story writing.
Hi everyone! Thanks AAB for letting me invade this week. After I came out with Private Pain: Amidst These Ashes in February 2014, I took a bit of a mini vacation from doing any individual poetry works. For a long time, my short story muse was whispering for some spotlight so I wanted to take the opportunity to let it roam. Plus, in my mind, it could serve as preparation—to whether an audience was just as susceptible to my stories as my poetry.
I put my big toe in the short story ocean with Taint on Religion. Wait, might as well say my whole leg! Why do I say that? Check out the blurb.
After experiencing tragedies that lead her to a checkered life, Natasha has decided to go on the path to redemption. There is promise with her membership at Reverend Jamison’s church. When discoveries are accidentally made, does Natasha stay mum about what she’s learned or does she place a taint on religion?
So, my debut in short stories had to be about something that can spark controversy? Way to go Queen! The direction of my inspiration goes where it wants, and Taint on Religion was sparked by a combination of small town life and observations of the behaviors of hard core church goers.
The next stories after that were actually featured in a short story anthology entitled Summer Shorts II: Best Kept Secrets prior to being released independently.
One was written in homage to my grandfather, entitled Mr. Bradley’s Garden, while the other was loosely inspired on a random trip to the dollar store, entitled When Summer Lingers.
This was just my summer of 2014.
In the fall of that same year, I produced three more short stories that would make up 1/3 of the short story anthology Continuous Drips. Out of all the stories I’ve written to date, the ones in this collection—“Misfortune”, “Afro Shock”, and “Útil”— are the ones that I enjoyed writing the most.
With “Misfortune”, it was one answer to an age old question: Can men and women really be platonic friends? A whole lot of people don’t think it is possible. I added additional drama to the premise—a side story with one of the main character’s best friends and whether there’s any validity to psychic ability, even from one (like the main character) who doesn’t believe.
“Afro Shock” was originally called “Culture Shock”. It was originally written as a play that was supposed to be in production as part of an assignment—years ago when I was attending school. Plans fell through but I didn’t realize I still had the work until I was doing some cleaning. The building blocks of it still appealed to me, and I believed I could transform it into a story.
“Útil” is one of my personal favorites because it has so many layers. It’s a snapshot of modern day office life as well as how people treat others who may not be in the same social or economic standing. On the same token, it has a bit of mystery and delivers a message.
Can the hot, handsome guy fall for the average, awkward woman? That was the driving force behind the first book in the Divergent Ink series, called “Crackles of the Heart”. For this, I did a strongly prose driven work, “Tale in the Keys of Drastic”. My answer to the query does play into my twisted sense of humor, so consider yourself warned!
In my next short story, set to debut in Concordant Vibrancy: Vitality, it explores the question, “What force drives your spirit?” I have always had a great appreciation of order. Order advocates stability, and stability is one ingredient to obtaining a peaceful spirit.
So, consider this an All Authors Blog exclusive. A sneak peek at “Operation Restore”.
While walking from room to room, pain and disgust put grooves in my normally calm demeanor. Disruption was in a number of spaces—a combination of torn and soiled clothing, neglected literature, and bundles of trash. One would easily surmise that a natural disaster of epic proportions had caused havoc in the historical house I once labeled home.
Yet, this was the work of one person. Matilda. Even in our union, she was not the cleanest of people. However, the least she could have done was left some type of structure. Perhaps Matilda was sending a message—a reminder of what our affair diminished into before she delivered its ending.