Let Me Share With You.

What follows is a complete compendium (well, near-complete, anyway) of all fiction I've written since 1986, when I made my first serious attempt at writing a fully formed story.  I left out three pieces, two of which are not truly fictional and none appropriate to share with anyone.

Much of it is awful stuff.  Some of it is downright embarrassing.  Half, I vaguely remember writing at all.  Sex scenes made a very early entry into my work, including a brief portrayal between two women.  

The only stories that I've read during the assembly of this collection are the ones I wrote between 1986-1991.  I only possessed hard copies of these stories (it was the recent discovery of the binders holding these stories that inspired me to compile everything in one location), and each had to be typed into electronic files.  Seeing these stories for the first time in 20 or more years has been nothing less than an interesting series of surprises.  The influences of Stephen King and John Irving on my early writing are readily apparent.  

I haven't changed anything in these stories, not even the ones that were retyped.  They were not edited in any way.  Each is as it was when I last looked at it, years and years ago.  Most are complete.  Several are begun and then abandoned.  A few are actual works in progress, ideas for novels that came to fruition, but I merely ran out of steam.  These Works In Progress still live within me, the ideas are still alive--though they'd gone forgotten until now.  

All of the unfinished stories and works in progress are drafts, meaning there are typos, incomplete ideas and ideas in progress, mid-story name-changes, jumps in logic, poor grammar, weak character and plot development, and notes to myself.  But nearly all contain a kernel of interest.

As I sorted through all of this fantasy, I was struck by one peculiar thing:  Some of these stories contain elements of the life I would lead as an adult and the people I would meet, long after the last had been written.  Coincidence, or premonition?  I don't know.  But several times, I ran across names and incidents that hadn't yet become part of my history until after I'd committed them to paper.  The words, "Oh my God" and "Holy crap" were often whispered as I encountered these little nuggets.

This isn't an arm-waving attempt to garner attention.  In fact, the settings of this blog prohibit search engine listings.  I've always been very shy about sharing the creative side of myself, my music, my writing...  In fact, learning to share at all has been a crucial lesson as I continue to grow.  Over the last few years, that secret part of me has begun to open up and flower.  I've discovered that sharing feels much nicer than hoarding everything.  I still won't sing or play music before an audience, not to mention my own family members.  But blogging and posting my half-assed poetry and these old stories represents that blossoming, that willingness to share.  

My attitude is, "I wrote these.  It felt good to create and complete every story, every poem and every journal entry.  You don't have to like them.  You don't even have to read them.  But here they are.  This is me, sharing with you."

There are a lot of stories here--44 if I haven't miscounted.  Do I expect anyone to read them all?  Absolutely not.  But I do hope that any visitors are lucky enough to pick the better ones to read. My suggestion is to start at the beginning of the blog at 2005, and work backwards toward 1986.  Just remember, even among the earliest there may be a hidden gem or two.