Better, Faster, Stronger

the-only-wat-to-get-better-at-writing-is-to-write-and-read-quote-1

*except it’s “way” not “wat”

But it’s still true.

I started this short story about six years ago and ever since, I have revised and redone it at least ten different times.

…and I’m about to do it again.

It’s one I want to include in my short story collection, and one I’d like to get published beforehand, so I want to make sure it’s totally rad. As I was going back through, it I realized I’m not happy with it. Maybe it’s because I’ve been reading a lot in general lately, or maybe I’ve just grown as a writer since I first started it, but I really think the story is crap as it stands now. Needs work.

Just an update for you…and a motivational quote from Stephen King.

Negative Font +Prompt

I recently found this piece buried away. It was written in response to a prompt. I figured someone else might like to take a wack at it. The prompt word was simply “papyrus.” See what you can come up with. Comment with a link to your own work!

(Also, if anyone knows how to do specific fonts here on WordPress, let me know…)

Negative Font
JCD Kerwin

She wrote to you in p a p y r u s.

The typeface contradicts the bitter adieu written on the page. Each word makes you hate calligraphy. You imagine her sitting, her back against the ocean, listening to the wind within the reeds. She ran away to him and summer; you remain with nothing and the winter.

You rip pages from your notebook, pick up a pen and scrawl in IMPACT. You forget she’s long gone and throw the memories away.

(February 2016)

 

W.I.P.-Great Aunt Margaret

I thought I’d share one of the short stories I’m working on. It’s a mystery/thriller. Spooky.

Let me know what you think!

Great Aunt Margaret
J.C.D. Kerwin

“It’s watching me,” Eliza declared. She scrunched up her nose and tilted her head.

She is not,” her father said. He straightened the frame and descended the ladder. “There, that looks good.”

They each took a step back and gazed at the portrait now hanging above the fireplace. The lady pictured sat in a chair, arms folded gently across her lap. She looked directly at the painter—at the viewer—with a distinctive expression, as if she was trying to convey a thought with her eyes alone. A rusted metal placard sat at the bottom of the frame. Its faded type read “Great Aunt Margaret” but the artist and date were indistinguishable.

“It gives me the creeps, Roger.”

He pushed her shoulder. “It’s a woman, you know…and the name is Dad.”

“Well she gives me the creeps.”

He gave her a disapproving look. “You had better get used to it. It’s going to be here for a while.”

Eliza moved left and right, testing to see if the eyes in the painting would follow her movements. “Is this creepy picture really all you got?”

Her father nodded at the painting. “Yeeeep.”

“Well I, for one, am not going to be alone in the same room with that thing.”

She spun on her heel and hurried out of the room.

He stared at the painting for another few seconds before turning away. He paused at the light switch. He could’ve sworn he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Now she’s got me doing it,” he mumbled. He shut off the light.

* * *

I got the idea for this story from a prompt. Now I’m going to offer it up to you! Here it is:

  • The person in a painting you recently acquired suddenly disappears from view.