Tag Archives: fantasy

The Story

I’ve been working on a story for a while, but writing it keeps getting in the way.

I’ve always admired Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “Sherlock Holmes,” which was published as a serial in the Strand magazine, a monthly publication. My story–“The Story”–has been under development for a while. Like most writers, I d-r-a-g things out far too long as I write them. It’s a case of “Wait! It was a small dog, not a puppy!.”

As George Lucas supposedly said, “Movies are never completed, only abandoned.” The same is probably true of stories, so I’m going to publish–on this blog–at least a chapter a month. I make no promise that a particular chapter (including one that I may publish) will not be removed or eliminated.

Welcome to the wonderful??? world of writing. You may have the chance to experience my dreams, frustrations, pain, and stupidity, as I try to write a story.

I’ve already changed at least five chapters, but, interestingly, all of the characters remain, although their experiences might be different. If I share, I’ll try not to be too confusing (I’m not responsible for confusing myself).

If it’s worthwhile–I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One is coming soon.

Nowhere Man (Part 1)

The Beatles

The Beatles


Suddenly I awoke.

Or did I?

I felt like I was awake, but I couldn’t see or hear anything. Where was I? Was I dead? I didn’t think so. If I were dead I should either be experiencing heaven or hell or whatever, or if those didn’t exist and I was dead I shouldn’t think or feel anything.

So where was I?

I tried to think logically and started by taking a mental inventory. I was aware of myself. I couldn’t perceive anything else. I tried to see if I could feel anything, but my hands and feet didn’t seem to be there.

This was a little weird and very, very scary. I thought about the old stories and movies with someone’s brain kept alive in the jar, its owner going mad without being able to communicate. I tried to calm myself, but it was difficult; usually I start by trying to control my breathing, but I couldn’t tell if I was breathing or not. I couldn’t feel my chest to tell if it was rising and falling. I didn’t feel like I needed oxygen so at least I wasn’t suffocating.

That thought helped calm me down.

Where could I be so that I wouldn’t be able to see, hear or feel anything? I remembered reading about sensory deprivation tank experiments in which people floated in a warm liquid in a sound and light proof enclosure. But didn’t they say that without anything else to interfere you’d hear your heart and the blood moving through your arteries? And after a while weren’t you supposed to hear the electrical conduction of the nerves?

I could think of no reason I would be in a sensory deprivation tank. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t sure that they still existed, if they really had existed at all in the past. Maybe they were all just Hollywood hype.

So where was I?

I decided that as weird as it sounded I must be nowhere.

(To be continued)