Fragments of Fiction

Drunk Blogging for Amateurs showed up on my radar the other day and made me think about what I am doing as a writer today and what I hope accomplish…tomorrow.

It got me thinking about how I talk about being the author of 39 unpublished books and how even though it is tongue-in-cheek there is truth to it.

I have a ton of stories floating around my head and I need to do something about it. Those of you who are among the long time readers have heard me talk about this before but this time around I have been thinking about how how to organize the parts and pieces I have so that I can follow through.

Last night I came across You Can’t Break A Broken Heart and decided I would spend a few moments pulling some more excerpts from the Fragments of Fiction pieces that are floating around here and other blogs to see what I could come up with.

It is not a comprehensive list nor do I think these are necessarily the best of the best, but you have to start somewhere because a story that isn’t written down or shared in some way might as well be dead.

About Writers & Managing Expectations

I am not a writer because I get paid to write or because I am a dreamer who puts words down on paper or on screen.

I am a writer because it is who and what I am. I am a storyteller and I always have been, from the moment the preschool teachers told my parents about what I came up with to know and forever.

But it took a long while for me to accept all of the parts and pieces that come with it. Took a long while to accept that it comes with a few catches and that if I wanted to accept it I needed to take all of it.

Part of that is managing my expectations, not the readers but mine because I have been my biggest enemy and impediment to doing more than I have done.

So here is the first step for me in 2015, links, lyrics and words. Time to do more than just talk.

Time to Drink Up.

“In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along”
And So It Goes- Billy Joel

My seventies girl once told me that she thought that most of my music sucked. I laughed and said seventies girl sucks too. She tossed her hair back, smiled and turned towards the sea.

We sat in silence and watched the waves roll in and out. As we sat there, our fingers intertwined I felt our souls smile and let my mind wander where it would.

Water gives life. It also takes it away. Wind and waves. I told her once that I could see how the ocean could become my mistress. The sounds of the sea called out to me and touched the wanderlust within. She took her hand and turned my face towards her and stared into my eyes.

I knew her thoughts before she spoke them and promised to take her wherever it was I went. “You are the song of my heart and what happens to you happens to me.” A soft kiss graced my lips and we sat again in silence.

We who had never known such happiness never knew that one day we would know such sorrow. It had seemed impossible that two people could meet under such circumstances as we did and not end up together. Signs and symbols serenaded our souls healing the scars of the past and opening up opportunities of the future.

Her presence made me stand a little bit taller and made my muscles a little bit stronger. In turn I taught her to relax and let another carry the load. Her burden didn’t have to be borne alone and when she finally let go I carried her effortlessly.

We were partners. We were friends. We were lovers. It is hard to write these words, ‘we were” when my heart says that they should read “we are.

Sometimes I head to the beach again and think of the days when we sailed together. The sounds of the sea call out to me and I think of that day when I spoke of my mistress the sea and wonder if perhaps the time has come to set sail again.

I stand alone on the beach and watch the waves roll towards the shore. I wonder about what lies beneath the surface and absentmindedly turn towards you but you are not there. A wistful smile works its way across my face.

Had you been there I would have mentioned the tsunami and how incredible the power of the ocean is. I would have talked about the secrets that it keeps and how amazing it is that one moment the sea can be calm and the next it is raging.

Water gives life. It also takes it away. Wind and waves.

The contradiction of the water as deliverer of life and death would have made for a great conversation. It fit us, this contradiction. We who “were” or perhaps one day “will be.”

“So I would choose to be with you
That’s if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break”

I Found You Again

Somehow when I thought you had left my life forever I found you again.

Even now I am not sure how it happened. I remember being swept overboard and being tossed around by the waves, saltwater blinding my vision and choking the life out of me.

I remember sinking beneath the waves exhausted and spent but not quite dead.

The sweet siren song of the ocean depths called out to me and I almost answered but that fire in my belly wasn’t extinguished and the fight hadn’t been beaten out of me so I kicked my way back to the surface and fought the waves until I could fight no longer.

Found a piece of driftwood and held onto it and let the current take us where it would. Looked up at the sky and found our stars and our moon staring back at me and thought I heard your voice.

Thought I heard you calling my name and promised I would find you again.

Felt like a fool but figured if I had nothing but time to float I might as well find ways to occupy my mind so I closed my eyes and looked for my center.

Found you waiting there for me, took your hand and heard you promise to take it again if I could find you.

Opened my eyes, shook my head and swore I wouldn’t let the sun beat the sense out of me and floated some more.

Days turned into months and the current moved our life together further away until it felt so distant I wondered if it had been a dream.

It felt impossible to believe that what I remembered was anything more than a figment of my imagination. As the months stretched into years I convinced myself that it wouldn’t matter if I found you again because it had never been as good or as pure as I remembered it to be.

That made sense to me and I figured it would to you as well. Practical and mature people would recognize how absence makes the heart grow fonder and figure it to gloss over any challenges we had once faced.

Reality was what I should be looking at and it was clear I wasn’t because I knew that two people couldn’t be as my memory showed we were.

And then lightning struck and that puckish rogue life sent me out to sea again.

It Wasn’t Supposed To Be Like That…Or Was It?

The same water that had sent me overboard and tried to drown me so many years earlier did it again.  Somehow I was swept overboard again and forced to fight the waves but this time there was no siren song trying to lull me to sleep.

This time surprise was replaced by anger and I was too fired up to anything but find another way to swim to shore.

And that is when I found the biggest surprise of all…

You.

You were there. I saw you but you didn’t see me.

Watched you walk across the room and was amazed by how hard it made my heart pound. After all this time and all these years nothing had changed.

And then I understood what Rick meant when he talked about all of the gin joints in all of the towns in the world.

It felt like dawn broke inside my head and the sunrise melted all of the doubt that had lay in the shadows.

Wind and waves had forced us apart and now they had brought us back to the same place, but not quite together.

Not together because you didn’t know I was there. Didn’t feel me staring at you or see me try to melt back into the shadows because I felt like I was back in high school.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We weren’t ever supposed to have found each other the first time, yet we did and we felt the chemistry between us almost immediately.

We weren’t supposed to lose each other yet we did. In some ways it felt like it happened as fast as we had found each other.

And yet just when I thought it was nothing more than a memory the wind and waves swept us back together in the same place and I began to believe that maybe there was more magic in the world than I had once believed.

I didn’t know how to begin this post, didn’t know where to go with it or how to make it tell the tale I want to tell in a such a way that you wouldn’t have to read it more than once because you wouldn’t have to read to know the truth of my words.

Sometimes the hardest things to say are to the person who you most need to hear what is written upon your heart. You struggle to come up with the letters that serve as the best teammates, the ones that don’t struggle with the others and understand how to take a person by the hand and gently lead them to where you need them to go.

“And I need you more than want you
And I want you for all time
And the Wichita Lineman is still on the line

And I need you more than want you
And I want you for all time
And the Wichita Lineman is still on the line”
Wichita Linemen– Glen Campbell

Somewhere along that open road I found something mystical and magnificent waiting for  me. Somewhere along the road I found what I had spent my entire life looking for and I recognized that I was driving away from where I was supposed to be, driving away from where I wanted to be but doing it because it had to be done.

And as the miles passed beneath my tires there were more than a few moments where I felt like I had to go back, had to stop the car to turn around and get you.

Get you because you are supposed to be on my right side, sharing adventures and living the minutes and moments with me. It is not supposed to be as it is now, not supposed to be one apart from the other but sometimes that is how it goes.

But it doesn’t have to be that way forever.

“So I looked at the scenery,
She read her magazine;
And the moon rose over an open field.
“Kathy, I’m lost”, I said,
Though I know she was sleeping.
“I’m empty and aching and
I don’t know why.”
America– Simon & Garfunkel

Every moment apart felt like forever and the farther I went the further it all felt.   I took a deep breath and told myself it was silly and foolish to act so childish.

But when I saw lightning fly across the sky and heard the sound of thunder I realized why my heart was pounding, saw that twister heading straight for the car and knew that when it hit things would get nasty.

Pulled over, ran for cover, took a deep breath and as my body was battered I closed my eyes, saw your eyes looking back at mine and heard music playing.

“The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love
To the dark and the endless skies”
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face– Roberta Flack

When the roar of thunder faded I opened my eyes and told myself we weren’t in Kansas any more. The car was gone and I was left alone under a sky streaked with flecks of blue and gray.

That highway wasn’t empty any more but I didn’t recognize any of the buildings I saw or the names of the places on the signs alongside of it. For a moment I wanted to scream because all that I had worked for seemed to gone, all the blood sweat and tears was for naught.

And then I heard something, couldn’t say what or where it came from, just knew I needed to find it. But I was exhausted from all that I had been through so I headed off to the side of the road and put my back up against the tree.

Decided I would wait for nightfall and follow our moon back to whence I had came. As I closed my eyes I saw yours looking back at me and heard that song again.

“Tuesday, afternoon,
I’m just beginning to see,
Now I’m on my way,
It doesn’t matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I’ve got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.”
Tuesday, afternoon– The Moody Blues

A good story has a beginning, a middle and an end. It is filled with interesting characters that face and overcome challenges. A good story will make you grin, but a great story will make you smile. We’re not talking about the kind of smile you give your neighbor when you pass by on the way down the driveway to collect the newspaper.

No, a great story provides you with the kind of smile that tells that world that your spirit has just been lifted and your heart is full of joy. Some people will tell you that these stories are few and far between. If you listen to them they’ll convince you that the reason those stories are so impressive is because of their scarcity. They’ll claim that the lack of frequency, their uncommon nature are part of what make them so special.

Not me, no sir, not I. I won’t give any credence to such nonsense because I know better. Not because I am good at spinning a yarn or adept at telling tales. I know better because I have lived such moments and have an eye for identifying what is special about the seemingly ordinary.

It is a gift that was given to me at birth or so I like to claim. An ability that is not limited to myself, it is really more of a skill that can be gained and improved upon. All it takes is desire and practice. Give of yourself and you’ll find that it exists for you too.

At least that is how I see it. That is the perspective that I have gained after what feels like a thousand years of riding the roller coasters of life. I have loved and lost. I have been loved. I have allowed myself to roam the fields of fire and burned because that was what was required. It wasn’t always easy and there have been more than a few moments in which I have been convinced that I have earned the title of “moronic fool.”

There a million different stories and reasons why. The simple and easiest explanation is to say that I suffered from Don Quixote syndrome and attacked too many windmills. Or so I told myself in moments of doubt and frustration. Some of those were hard times, dark days for myself.

They were days in which dancing in the fire brought more pain than success. Days in which I’d look in the mirror and ask myself if I was suffering from delusions of grandeur. I’d wonder why my reflection didn’t step out from behind the frame and start beating me over the head with whatever object was handy.

It might have made me happier because then I could say that I was crazy, and not in the crazy like a fox way. But I wasn’t crazy then and I am not crazy now. I am now and was then in complete control of my faculties. If anything I suffered from impatience and a fear of what could happen.

But the reason that I think that I am living out one of the great stories that is that I found my heart. Found her and lost her.

“Hello. How are you?
Have you been alright, through all those lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely nights
That’s what I’d say. I’d tell you everything
If you’d pick up that telephone yeah yeah yeah

Hey. How you feelin?
Are you still the same?
Don’t you realize the things we did, we did, were all for real, not a dream?
I just can’t believe
They’ve all faded out of view yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah”
Telephone Line- Electric Light Orchestra

The how and why don’t matter or should I say that they belong to to two people and if you have to ask then you aren’t one of them. That is not to say that I won’t share bits and pieces or that you can’t guess. I don’t say that for the purpose of encouraging you too either, but I know enough about people to know that some of you can’t help it.

And to that other, well I told you a thousand years ago that where I walk thunder and lightning follow. I said that I have been forced to learn how to ride out the storms because that is just how it has been. I promised passion. I promised fire. One kiss and nothing would ever be the same.

I can’t say that you gave me your heart or that I gave you mine because we already shared that. It is hokey, it is a cliche and a million other things but it is true. You know it and I know it. Don’t need anyone else to approve or understand because that is not who we are.

“I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion –
I have shudder’d at it.
I shudder no more.
I could be martyr’d for my religion
Love is my religion
And I could die for that.
I could die for you.”
~ by John Keats ~

Some would call those mere words on a page. They’d ask for more than a few lines as proof. Or they might point out the inconsistencies and inadequacies of those who directed those words to their attention. And it might be understood why and how they do it.

It is easier to run away from some things. Easier to hide from the spotlight and to avoid its glare. I know because I have done both. I have lived on both sides of the fence.

“You will never know true happiness
until you have truly loved,
and you will never understand
what pain really is
until you have lost it.”
~ by Anonymous ~

“I’d like to run away
From you,
But if you didn’t come
And find me …
I would die.”
~ by Shirley Bassey ~

There is so much truth that. Such raw honesty and such power. The joy and ecstasy of true happiness can inspire you to reach for the heights you might not otherwise seek. But the flip side can be crushing. To have such a love and lose it is heart wrenching. It will strip you bare and leave you naked and hurting far more quickly than one can imagine.

Instead of basking in the warmth of the fire you find yourself burning, screaming for someone to put out the fire. And the person you seek isn’t there to quench those flames. For whatever reason they are gone, moved on to greener or different pastures.

But if you can withstand the flames and sustain yourself there is more to be found. If you maintain the presence of mind to be aware there are lessons to be learned. If you can catch your breath you can find a way to fortify your heart and to build a new foundation.

You can call that hyperbole or label it juvenile prose with an unhealthy tinge of melodrama if you’d like. Perhaps it is. I’d say that is a just a little bit to the left of such a place and that if we included some sort of line of about a phoenix raising from the ashes than your comment would be well earned.

But that is not the case and that is part of what makes this one of the great stories. Because we started a story whose end must now wait. It is case of the tortoise and the hare, this is not a sprint. This is not so different from the runners you watched above. The men who ran alongside the waves did not have a finish line in sight. They ran because that was what was required to get them to where they want to go. They understood that the finish line was somewhere down the road.

And that is how I see it. The race for my heart isn’t going to be finished any time soon. But one day I will see that line and when the time is right I’ll cross over it.

I am running with the moon again, racing under a starry night along a desert highway for no other reason than because.

Because I can’t sit still and wait for a sign to let me know the time is now. Can’t watch the heavens to see if a fireball lights up the evening sky letting me know it is time to roll.

Running because I swallowed some of that lightning we trapped in a bottle and when you hear the thunder roar must respond.

So I am running away from the past and heading towards the future because the only way to improve the present is to go through it.

Running because I did what they said couldn’t be done and if it happened once it can happen again, but that doesn’t make the moments any more palatable.

Doesn’t make the madness disappear or chase away the shadows that try to hide the daylight.

So we run towards the sun, arms outreached, feet flying across the sand determined to get to the other side but not at the expense of missing the moments of the present.

“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” ― Robert Frost

Eyes blurred with sweat obscure my vision but exercise clears the clutter from my mind and sweeps away the inner cobwebs. Inside my head I silently sing along with the boss…

“Well every river, baby, it runs dry
Until the sun’s torn from the sky
Till every feel you’ve felt burst free
Gone tumblin’ down into the sea”
Janey, Don’t You Lose Heart -Bruce Springsteen

The miles pass under my feet and time chases the moon from its place in the sky. Soon dawn will break and the new day will start and all of courage will have the opportunity to begin again too.

Editor’s Note: Part of this comes from a story I originally published here.