I’m starting to acclimate to the full time writing schedule. The last three days have been intensely productive. I started and finished two short stories, a poem and wrote the first chapter to Suite & Sour, the Bitter Suites follow up. I’m happy to have the follow up in production and I’m really happy with how it is developing.
Of course, the first chapter is our “popped guy.” He has no name and has never meant to have a name. His chapters are the only ones in first person. His character is designed to be an outfit the reader can slip on. Through him, experience addiction from the inside. Books were the first virtual reality.
“I watch the sheep line up and I can’t help feeling a little jealous. I’m not all about the Jesus stuff but I totally get why they are here… why they cry and yell. This is the most holy thing I’ve ever done. All my life I’ve just been that nameless guy no one remembers. No purpose, no future.”
During my research I stumbled across an audio file for the mass suicide-murder in Jonestown, Guyana under the spiritual leadership of Reverend Jim Jones. It’s pretty chilling. The first chapter has been colored by this… but it’s not all just horror and doom. Today I was asked where I was in the story.
“Oh, this woman is laying on her side starting to convulse. She has red and pink foam squeezing through her clenched teeth and it reminds the protagonist of a sunset.” I note the shocked look and uncomfortable silence.
“Oh, she’ll be okay as soon as the resuscitators get in there. I mean, they’ll be busy but it’s what they do. She’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Awkward silence.
“She chose this,” I say, one last attempt to excuse myself. “It’s for life enrichment. And it’s her religion.” I give up.
Maybe it is all just horror and doom.
Here’s a peek at the rough first draft of the opening to Suite & Sour. The first chapter is called Pop Rocks.