As this website will be ‘celebrating’ its 10th anniversary this February it’s getting to be about that time. Time to put out another book. I have the title and the cover art all picked out. Now I just have to do everything else.
Starting with the Forward.
I have written some of the worst Forwards ever to grace a page. I write them at the last minute and pay absolutely no attention to them. Similar to the About the Author section… and most of what appears between them.
Not this time. I’m going to sit down and write something worthy of a Lance Manion Forward.
We all have our stories. They are where we live. A reader is someone that wants to visit another world. Unlike a novel, which is immersive, flash fiction allows you to stop by and stay as long or as short as you like.
For example, millions of people live in a world where three wise men brought the baby Jesus gold, myrrh and frankincense. What if one of the wise men was particularly wise and they brought the baby Jesus gold, myrrh and Frankenstein?
Picture it. The stable, the manger, Joseph and Mary and Frankenstein standing there.
One sentence that can have you spending hours imaging a completely unique world. Or not.
You can flip the page or spend ten minutes wondering if the baby Jesus would grow up pissed off, this wiser man having stolen his Lazarus thunder.
Or a story about a food critic who gives a glowing review to a chef in which he says the food was so good that it made him want to eat his own shit when it finally departed his body. The story being about a world where nobody bats an eye at the review. In our stories it just wouldn’t happen.
In another world it could. And what would that mean?
Would it mean anything? You could think about it for awhile or move on.
Or a visit to a world where a girl likes to sleep curled up at the foot of the bed.
Something so simple that you can invent any number of reasons to make this decision endearing or annoying.
The stories that might actually be in our story are the ones that we tend to overlook. At our peril, believe me. I might have met her and not been paying attention.
Most of us want more from the stories where we live. We wish that they were happier or more exciting, so we pick up a book now and then to explore somewhere else.
It’s at this point I should warn you about exploring with me. I ask a lot of you. There won’t be many details and sometimes things won’t make sense.
“I demolish my bridges behind me…then there is no choice but to move forward.”