It’s Monday!!! Rage & 1984

It’s baaack! I’m not sure why I stopped doing these posts, but I’ve decided to bring them back. Like my other posts, I can’t promise I’ll post one every week. Honestly, some weeks, I don’t have time to finish a whole book, but I’ll post one whenever I do. For those of you who are new here, It’s Monday posts deal with the books I’m currently reading.

Last week’s book should probably start with a…

Trigger Warning. Last week’s book involves a school shooting.

Last week’s book was “Rage”, by Richard Bachman, AKA Stephen King.

I wish I could have found a better copy of the cover, but I couldn’t for the same reason I wanted to re-read it.

I read this once back in high school. It was okay, but I didn’t really think about it too much. It wasn’t until I heard that it was out of print indefinitely due to subject matter that I wanted to check it out again. What can I say? I’m a rebel.

“Rage” is about a bright high school student who was on his way to an institution for attacking a teacher with a pipe wrench for bullying him . On his last day of regular school, he shoots his teacher and one other member of the faculty then takes his classroom hostage.

The funny thing is, other than the fairly violent first few chapters, most of the book is fairly tame. The shooting/hostage situation is just the backdrop for the real story. Before long, the students find themselves sharing their deepest, darkest secrets. Most of the stories relate to how messed up they all are because or their parents. Soon, the students are bonding and discovering they aren’t all as different as they had thought.

It’s “The Breakfast Club” meets “Lord Of The Flies”

I’d love to drop you a link, but as I said, it’s out of print indefinitely. I’m sure if you looked hard enough, you could find a copy in your local used bookstore though.

This week’s read is “1984” by George Orwell.

Again, I read this back in high school. The only thing is, back then, in the optimistic mid-90’s it read as a cautionary tale, but one that, in my youthful estimation, could never come true. It’s a much more frightening read these days.

An honorable mention goes to “Ash & Quill” by Rachel Caine.

I don’t know why I’ve had such a hard time getting through this one. I read the first two just fine, but I’ve been slowly slogging through this one for months now. It doesn’t really have anything to do with the book itself although some parts are very slow. It’s just that there are a lot of other books on my TBR list that I’m much more excited to read.

Ash & Quill is the continuing saga of a group of students from the Library of Alexandria (which never burned down in this timeline) who are trying to save the library from itself. This is the third in the series following “Ink & Bone” and “Paper & Fire“. Again, there is nothing wrong with the books, I’ve just been wanting to read other ones lately. I’d better finish this one soon though, as “Smoke & Iron“, number four in the series, is already waiting for me.

Please visit my website www.justinmkelly.com

What’s Up Wednesday: Back To Basics

If you want to be a successful writer, you have to build a fan base. The sooner, the better. Preferably before you even publish a word. It’s common knowledge in the writing community. Worse yet, it’s expected by publishers. With this in mind, a few years back, I set up my website, my YouTube Channel, my Facebook fan page, Twitter, etc. Even the blog you’re reading right now.

I started with good intentions and high hopes. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, I got lost. My good intentions fell by the wayside as I got wrapped up in the dream of being famous for fame’s sake. I started worrying more about my YouTube views than the books I was supposedly writing. I would focus on what I was going to talk about in my next video or in my next blog post rather than focusing on the next chapter.

What’s worse, I let the fact that my number of subscribers wasn’t growing the way I’d hoped affect my mental health. Of course, it wasn’t the only cause, but it has been a big contributing factor when I’ve slipped into my semi-frequent bouts of anxiety and depression.

Recently, I’ve come to realize that it’s too difficult to market something you haven’t written yet. I know some people have managed to do it. Jenna Moreci, for one, had people clamoring for her book before she’d even finished writing it. Then again, she has a background in marketing. I don’t.

So I’m sure you have an idea where this is going. Don’t worry. I’m not going to shut down my blog or my YouTube channel. I’ll still post to my various social media pages as well. I’m just going to stop letting it take up so much of the time I should be devoting to writing.

First off, Fiction Friday isn’t going anywhere. I’ve come to enjoy sharing the quick, off-the-cuff, stories I post there. I can’t promise I’ll post every week, but I’ll try. It’s still writing, which I still believe is what I’m really meant to do. (I sure as hell hope it is, because I can’t see myself doing anything else.) Eventually, I hope to have enough Fiction Friday stories to put into a collection along with a few of my unpublished shorts.

I’ll still be posting What’s Up Wednesday, but it definitely won’t be every week. I’ll be honest, at this point, my life just isn’t exciting enough to have a real update every week. In fact, most weeks consist of, “I went to work, I wrote, and I slept.” Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Someday, I hope to have a more exciting life, but for most writers, there just isn’t much to tell.

The same goes for my YouTube channel. I just don’t have enough to talk about. I’d intended for it to be a writing advice channel, but right now, while I have plenty of opinions, I don’t feel like I’m enough of an authority to give writing advice. Besides, typically the audience for a writing advice channel is other writers when I’m really trying to reach readers. (Not that writers aren’t inherently readers as well, but I’m trying to reach a larger audience.)

I know I’ve been teasing this for a long time, but I think I’m going to finally start doing a series of videos called Story Time Saturday in which I read stories I’ve posted for Fiction Friday. I’m still not sure how that sort of video will go over but it’s worth a try. I’d really love to hear your thoughts on that sort of video so please leave a comment telling me your opinion.

Finally, I’m going to start submitting more short stories to magazines and anthologies. I tried it a while back and got frustrated after just a handful of rejections. Stephen King would be ashamed of me. He had enough rejections to rip the nail he hung them on out of the wall from the sheer weight. There were a lot more magazines that accepted fiction back then too, so the competition wasn’t as fierce.

The bottom line is, I’ve decided that I need to focus on actually finishing something before I worry too much about marketing myself.

One last thing. I want to thank the true fans who have been with me from the start. Actually, something just occurred to me. I don’t even know who my fans are. Sometimes I even question whether I have any in the first place. So if you’re a fan of my work, leave me a comment and let me know. (yes, I know it’s a blatant call for an ego boost, but I could use one right now.)

Anyway, that’s it for this time. I’ll see you on Friday. Until then…

Don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

You can find my Amazon influencer page here.  https://www.amazon.com/shop/justinmkellywriter

And my blog on Steemit. If you really want to help me out, go there and drop a like or a comment. I get paid if you do and it doesn’t cost you anything.

What’s Up Wednesday: The Rumble Fades, Now Back To Work

Well, the bikers are gone. Most of them at least. The truth is, there are always some who stick around until the snow flies. Still, it’s all over but the cleanup.

I’m already regretting not spending more time up at Sturgis this year, but I just didn’t have the energy to tell the truth. I was starting to think that maybe I’m getting too old to party like that. That I was turning into an old man. While there’s truth to that, it was a relief to discover that I was fighting off both a cold and some sort of stomach bug and it really took the energy out of me. Still, now that it’s all over, I kind of wish I’d toughed it out and gone up there more anyway. Alas, the party’s over.

Now it’s time to get back to work.

I’m still working on the next installment of “The Mongers” for this week’s Fiction Friday. I know I promised to have it out last week, but as I said, I wasn’t feeling well and if I had been, I probably would have been partying like an irresponsible teenager.

I’ll be perfectly honest, I don’t know where “The Mongers” is going, if it’s going anywhere at all. I got the idea for the opening scene and I went with it, so try not to be too mad if it goes somewhere unsatisfying. I promise I’ll finish it one way or another. I just have no idea what’s going to happen myself.

Other than that, I haven’t done much this past week. I did make one last trip up to Sturgis on Saturday for dinner with family and one last trip up and down main street for souvenirs. I wish I could post the thing I bought for my new nephew, but I’m not sure if my brother and sister-in-law read my blog, so I’d better not until they get it.

After years of searching, I found a ring that I’ve been looking for. I had one like it when I was a kid, but I either lost it, or one of my scumbag friends from the time stole it. (You know who you are.) Anyway, here it is.

The old one probably wouldn’t have fit anymore anyway.

And thus completes my pirate themed hand.

I’ve been taking a bit of my own advice and started reading more. I’m a big proponent of reading and have actually made a YouTube video on the importance for writers to read, but lately, I haven’t been practicing what I preach. I fell into the old trap most people do, proclaiming, “I just don’t have the time.”

Unfortunately, as a writer, that just doesn’t fly. Reading, for a writer, is like doing research in any other field. A scientist couldn’t very well go to his higher-ups and tell them he just didn’t have the time to keep up on the latest scientific research. So it is with a writer. At least, for writers, our research material is entertaining to read.

On that note, I just finished reading “The Regulators” By King/Bachman.

I really liked it, but about halfway through the book, I realized something. While at first I thought it was just a continuation of Desperation. I realized I recognized some of the names. I had to look it up to be sure, but it turned out I was right. Some of the names were the same as in the Desperation. Some of the characters even had the same career, but had vastly different personalities. The antagonist was basically the same. I think it’s basically the same story told in two alternate realities. I’m not sure, but I wonder if King/Bachman was unsure which way he wanted to take the story, so he ended up writing them both.

Anyway, on that note, I now want to re-read “Desperation” while “The Regulators” is still fresh in my mind.


If you look carefully, you’ll see that the covers fit together into one piece of art. Pretty cool.

I also need to finish “Ash & Quill” by Rachel Caine. I started that one a few months ago, but just haven’t finished it. It’s not that it isn’t a good book. I just got busy. I know, I know.

Anyway, that’s it for this week. I’m really hoping to have the next installment of “The Mongers” ready by Friday. Fingers crossed.

Until next time…

Don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

You can find my Amazon influencer page here.  https://www.amazon.com/shop/justinmkellywriter

And my blog on Steemit.

What’s Up Wednesday: Going Back To My Roots

Hey all.

So once again, I’ve neglected my blog. I wish I had a good reason, but I honestly don’t. Other than the usual reasons regarding my anxiety/depression of course.

The fact of the matter is that I’ve let myself get distracted. As you may know. I’ve been running a YouTube channel for a couple of years now. If not, here’s the link. https://www.youtube.com/justinmkellywriter Even there, I’ve had periods where I neglected to post, but I’ve been trying to get better about it. I was on quite a bit of a roll too, slowly gaining followers week by week. Now, I’m nowhere near a YouTube star, but it was nice to see that some people were paying attention.

Then disaster struck. I attempted to start a second channel and for some reason, it was immediately shut down. I had only posted an intro video and a couple of pictures I owned myself so I honestly can’t figure out why. I tried appealing and they denied my appeal. Now I don’t really care about the second channel, but in the e-mail it said I’m not allowed to have a channel or a YouTube account at all. because of this, I spent the last couple of weeks terrified that my main channel would be shut down. It’s still up so far, but I live in fear that it could be shut down at any moment.

This whole fiasco made me sit down and think. That’s when I realized something. I’d gotten so wrapped up in the fantasy of becoming “YouTube famous” that I’d forgotten why I’d started the channel in the first place. It was originally meant as a way to find readers and direct them to the books I haven’t been writing. As if an old guy like me in a less that popular niche could ever be famous on a platform like that. I needed to get back to my roots.

Don’t get me wrong. I plan on continuing to make videos as long as they’ll let me. I’m just not going to let it take precedence over more important things like my writing and updating my blog.

Another way I’ve allowed to let myself get sidetracked is money. Or, more to the point, the pursuit of money. I feel like I only have one real marketable skill. My way with words. I’ve been unsuccessfully searching for a way to make money as a writer. I know it can be done, but in general, it’s a completely different kind of writing and I’m trying to learn how to do it. I tried writing ad copy, but honestly, the tactics most often used to manipulate people into buying just felt so dirty to me, so I quickly moved on. I’m considering writing articles, but that’s another skill I need to learn. Then it hit me. What if my path to making money as a writer is… actually writing?

Over the years, I’ve let so many people tell me there’s no way I can make a living writing fiction that I’ve started to believe it. Now I know, the odds are stacked against me, but that’s no reason to give up before I’ve really tried. I do want to make one thing clear. Money is not the reason I write. Still, since writing fiction the one thing I feel I’m really good at, (or am I fooling myself?) maybe that’s my purpose here. I guess I’ll never know until I really try.

All that being said, from this point on, working on my books and short stories is priority number one. Priority number two is working on this blog. I’m considering starting one or two more based on some of my other interests. Perhaps one day I’ll even be able to monetize them.

In the meantime, I’m going to start getting my work out there. I’m considering posting some of my Flash Fiction Friday stories on sites like wattpad as well as on my Patreon. Once I have supporters there, I’ll start putting some longer works at various tiers. I have a special surprise in mind for my first supporter if you’re interested.

So those are my strategies for now. If you have any suggestions on ways to find a readership (other than actually writing some damned stories of course) I’d love to hear them.

I’m also going to start writing more shorts which will be put together in a collection and self-published. So watch for that.

Anyway, that’s it for today. Now I’m going to go see if I can come up with a story to post for you guys this Friday.

Don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

Also, Amazon apparently now considers me an influencer, which means that they basically gave me my own Amazon store where I can recommend products. I do get a cut of anything you buy when you click my link. Unless you’d rather all your money go to a faceless corporation.  🙂 You can find my influencer page here. https://www.amazon.com/shop/justinmkellywriter

Writing Office Tour

I thought you might like a look around the room where I spend most of my free time coming up with stories to entertain you guys.

As always, don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

I’ve also reopened my Amazon merch store, Scribe’s Station where I sell writing and book related T-Shirts.

What’s Up Wednesday: The Rebirth & Goals For 2018

Hey guys.

As you can see, I’ve brought back What’s Up Wednesday. I know some of you were disappointed when I decided to discontinue it, so I’ve come up with a compromise. As much as I’d like to post an update every Wednesday, the fact of the matter is, my life just isn’t that interesting. As a matter of fact, most weeks, I could just post the same half-dozen sentences and be done with it. On that note, I’ve decided to start posting updates every two to four weeks. That should give me enough material for a reasonable post. If something really exciting happens, I might to a special edition.

Anyway, on to the update.

If you follow my YouTube channel, and you really should, https://www.youtube.com/justinmkellywriter you’ll already know some of this.

In case you haven’t, here goes.

The end of last year really kind of sucked. I started November with the intention of participating in NaNoWriMo. I did reasonably well the first couple of days. Then I had my first slip. Something came up, causing me to miss a couple of days. No big deal. Instead of having to do 1,667 words a day, I would have to up it to 1,729. I even had a really good day the next day and almost caught back up. Then I had another bad day, then another, then another. You see where this is going. The worst part is, the more days I fell behind, the more that daily requirement grew. In my mind’s eye, I could see it towering over me, threatening to crush me. Before long, I could see hairline cracks in the base that grew wider day by day. Even worse, the further I fell behind, the less I found myself able to write. Of course, this is a very flowery way of saying that my failure to keep up with the daily word-count was severely triggering my anxiety. Finally, I had no other choice but to drop out of NaNo for my own mental health. Unfortunately, by this point it was too late. I spent the rest of the month absolutely hating myself.

We’d planned to visit my brother and his wife in Texas for Thanksgiving. It had been my plan to still spend some time writing every day. I even brought along my travel laptop for that purpose. Unfortunately, having already decided I was a failure, it never made it out of my backpack. Don’t get me wrong. I had a lot of fun while we were down in Texas, but deep down, I spent the whole time feeling like a fraud and a failure.

Upon returning home, Shannon discovered that her father had passed away while we were gone. Out of respect for her, I won’t give any details. I only tell you this because it severely effected us. I honestly hadn’t given much thought into how much goes into making final arrangements for a loved one. I kept having conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, It’s terrible that the grieving have to deal with so many practical things that they don’t really have time to mourn. On the other, it might be a blessing in disguise that it gives them something to take their minds off of it while the wound is still fresh, letting their loss sink in before they have time to really deal with things. I don’t know. What do you think?

That, of course, brings us to the Christmas season. I did my best to go through the motions, but try as I might, I just couldn’t get into the spirit. I usually try to do most of my shopping online. Once I feel comfortable with the gifts I have for everyone, I like to take one tour of the mall (a place I normally avoid like the plague) to see if I can find any last minute gifts for anyone on my list. Since I’m pretty much done, I don’t feel any pressure, and if someone wants to fight over anything, I can just let them have it. My little mall adventure usually allows me to really get into the spirit as I listen to the Christmas music over the P.A. system and look at all the cool little holiday displays. This year, I even tried to do a fun little follow me around video through the mall. Unfortunately, as you can see on the video, I started off in a bad mood which only got worse as I tried to force the holiday spirit.

It was only then that I realized what had happened. My anxiety over everything had progressed to a bout of full blown depression. I used to deal with depression a lot, but it’s been quite a while since I’ve had an attack, especially one this severe. The good thing is, once I properly identified it, I was able to use a few tricks to pull me out of it and on the 23rd, I woke up and I was all elves and reindeer. Christmas eve and Christmas day were a lot of fun. I especially loved watching everyone open the gifts I’d gotten them. I think most of them were a hit.

The week between Christmas and New Year was pretty uneventful. While I usually scoff at resolutions, I decided this was as good a time as any to make some changes in my life. I attempted to do a live video on New Year’s day where I made a symbolic fresh start by cleaning out my desk drawer on camera in preparation for all the time I’m going to be spending in the office this year. Unfortunately, thanks to a crappy connection that day, the video turned out very choppy and grainy. Still, I left it up on my channel in the spirit of “There’s nowhere to go but up.”

Since the video is kind of hard to watch and I also forgot to list a few of them in the video. I’ll list my goals for the year here.

First, and most importantly, write every single day. I’m not going to impose word counts on myself for fear of triggering another anxiety attack, but I’ve got to at least sit down and write something on a daily basis.

Finish at least one of my novels in progress. In July, I’m taking another trip to NYC for Thrillerfest and Pitchfest and I’ve absolutely got to have something to show potential agents and publishers.

Put out at least two new installments of The Children Of Pyrelia series.

Self-publish an anthology of short stories and flash fiction. Most of the Flash Fiction will be pulled from Flash Fiction Friday.

Try to publish a new Flash Fiction Friday post every week. This last week or so, I’ve been brainstorming story ideas like crazy so I never find myself without a story to write.

Start making videos in which I read one of my story and post them once a week.

Weekly YouTube videos about different aspects of the writer’s life in general. Some of these may just be about the rest of my life as well. Riding my motorcycles, hiking, fishing, etc.

Learning to lock myself away in my office to work even when I’d rather be spending time in the living room with Shannon.

Doing whatever it takes to get me out of my night job at the motel. Preferably transitioning to being a full-time writer, even if I have to start writing something other than fiction to make ends meet. This one was driven home just last night when a drunken guest tried to attack me. Luckily, I made it clear that I wasn’t afraid of him and he backed off, but it could have easily turned out very different.

Heavily marketing myself and doing whatever I can to get more readers/followers both on here and YouTube.

Starting a monthly newsletter and getting people to subscribe to it. If you’re interested, please go to my main page and scroll to the bottom to subscribe. www.justinmkelly.com

Figuring out Patreon and praying to the gods for patrons willing to help me achieve my dreams of being a full-time writer.  https://www.patreon.com/justinmkellywriter

And finally, the old standby. I’ve got to start taking better care of myself. I used to want to get in better shape to look better. Now I just don’t want to die young.

I may have forgotten a few, but you get the idea. It’s time to start taking my career seriously if I ever want to be a success.

Anyway, I guess that’s about it for this installment. I’ll see you in a few weeks to let you know how the resolutions are going. Now I’d better finish publishing this thing while it’s still Wednesday.

As always, don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

Flash Fiction Friday Number 17: Spiders

Hey guys.

Well, it’s almost Halloween. That gives us time for one more scary story before I return to my regularly scheduled programming. This one is a bit long to be considered flash, but I like how it turned out.

Anyway, on to the story. I simply call this one…

Spiders

Jake’s eyes snapped open.

What a weird dream. Jake thought as he lay there in bed.

In his mind’s eye, he could still see the cave, the strange symbols on the stone floor, and the figures in black robes dancing around the room as they performed their ritual. He could even still hear their haunting chants.

Jake sat bolt-upright in bed as he realized that this wasn’t a dream. He could actually hear the chanting. It seemed as if it were coming from directly under his bed. After listening for a few more minutes, he was convinced that’s exactly where it was coming from. He jumped out of bed and pushed his worn mattress out of the way. The spot where the mattress had lain on the floor for so long was marked by an absence of the filth that littered the rest of the floor.

Jake’s hands began feeling around the hardwood floor, pressing here and there, looking for a loose board or something so he could see where the sound was coming from. He just wanted a peek, that was all. Then he would gather up his few possessions and leave the house for good. It had been a good house and he’d enjoyed his time there, especially since nobody bothered him, but he knew when it was time to move on.

Jake’s left hand jerked as if it had a mind of its own. When it came back down, the board it landed on gave just a little. Jake pressed harder and he heard a click. Suddenly, the panel of flooring beneath him began to rise. Jake jumped off and stood back as a section almost the size of his old twin mattress opened in the floor. The chanting grew louder as it did.

As Jake peered down into the black hole in the floor, he could see a set of wooden stairs leading down into the dark. They looked like basement stairs, but as far as Jake had been able to tell, the house didn’t have a basement.

“Don’t do it, Jake.” He said to himself even as his right foot touched the first step.

“Seriously. Who cares where the chanting is coming from?” He said as his left foot followed his right.

Jake continued to try to talk himself out of proceeding even as he went further down the stairs, but he couldn’t stop his feet.

“Come on, Jake.” He pleaded with himself. “You know this place is supposed to be haunted. That’s why nobody ever bothered us. Let’s just turn back and go find a new place to live.”

Still, Jake’s feet continued to take step after step down the rickety old staircase. He didn’t even realize how dark it was getting until he heard the click of the latch above his head as the hole in the floor closed behind him. He continued down, now navigating by feel. With the click of the latch, he’d stopped arguing with himself.

“The only way out is through.” Jake said to the darkness. Who had said that? He wondered, hoping to take his mind off the mortal peril he was now sure he was in. He couldn’t remember.

Jake felt a thick spiderweb on his face and panicked. It felt thick enough to bind the largest man. Jake’s panicked brain wondered if there were some sort of breed of giant spider that had learned to mimic chanting to lure unsuspecting humans into its web. He swatted at his face and grasped the tendril of web, jerking it as he tried to rip it off.

The light went on.

It was just the pull-cord for a bare bulb. Jake thought with a sigh of relief.

As Jake stood there on the stairs, trying to calm his racing heart, he looked around and found that he was indeed in a large basement filled with all the usual suspects. Broken furniture, moldering cardboard boxes leaking decades old clothing, rotted books, discarded toys, and the like.

The only thing was, the basement was impossibly huge. He estimated that he’d already descended about ten feet and was only halfway to the bottom and in the dim light of the single bare bulb, Jake couldn’t even see the far wall. He looked back up at the top of the stairs, hoping against hope that he would see some sort of latch to reopen the hole in the floor, but it looked like the underside of any other floor. He wanted to look for some way to reopen it, but his feet were still moving down the stairs.

When he reached the dirt floor of the basement, his feet continued on even faster, as if guided by the chants echoing through the basement chamber. He easily navigated through the labyrinth of detritus in the basement. Or, more accurately, the chamber made to look like a basement, as he was now sure this room was.

Finally, he found himself facing another hole in the floor. Instead of being dark, the hole flickered with candlelight. The stairs were cut into the bedrock itself. Jake didn’t even try to argue as his right foot took the first step, followed by the left. The chanting was deafening now. Jake felt the fear and panic oozing out of his body. He felt fascinated by the intricate carvings adorning the walls. He felt, if he’d had enough time, he might have been able to actually read some of the strange writing, but still his feet pressed on.

Finally, the stairwell opened up onto a familiar cavern. It was exactly as he’d dream’t it, right down to the drawings on the floor and the black-robed figures. Except they weren’t dancing now. They were staring directly at him. The chanting stopped, and he felt control of his body return to him. Something deep down told him to run, but he still felt logy.

Probably from being woken out of a dead sleep, now that the adrenaline has worn off. He thought.

“Welcome, Jake.” The one who appeared to be the leader said.

“Welcome, Jake.” The rest of them repeated.

“Who are you?” Jake asked.

“I am Tarquin, and this is my flock.” the leader said, removing his cowl. “Please, there’s no reason to stand in the doorway. Come. Join us.”

Jake didn’t know what he’d expected to see under the hood, but found himself looking at a man. Perhaps a bit gaunt and pale, but a man nonetheless. Not wanting to appear rude, he did as Tarquin asked and walked toward him. As he did so, the others moved silently around the room.

As his head began to clear, Jake felt the first tendrils of fear creeping back into his brain. Even though he was smiling, there was something about that smile that Jake didn’t like. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Why are you guys living under my house?” Jake asked.

“Your house?” Tarquin smiled. “I believe you’re mistaken. That house belongs to me and my flock. We call it our little web.”

Jake chuckled at the comparison. “Your web? That would make you…”

He looked at Tarquin, who was now grinning broadly, revealing an oversized set of dagger-like canine teeth.

“Spiders.” Tarquin finished for him, and began to laugh.

Jake looked around. The rest of the spiders had formed a circle around the two of them and it was quickly shrinking.

Jake tried to run, but was quickly caught in the powerful clutches of one of the vampires. Jake tensed, expecting to feel fangs pierce his skin. Instead, the vampire dragged him back to Tarquin, grabbing his hair and exposing his neck.

“Thank you Octavius.” Tarquin said. “Tell me something, Jake. Are you afraid?”

Jake did his best to nod while at the same time feeling a slight surge of relief. Could this have been some elaborate hidden-camera prank all along?

“Good. Fear gives the blood so much more flavor.” Tarquin said as he plunged his fangs into Jake’s carotid artery.

Even as he felt his life draining out of his neck, he felt pinpricks all over his body as the rest of the spiders took their share.

.     .     .

So that’s it for this year’s Hallowen stories. I hope you liked it.

I’m going to try to post every week in November, but I’m also going to be doing NaNoWriMo to try to finish one of my novels which means I have to write at least 1667 words every day of the month just for that so I’m not sure I’ll also be able to do a piece of flash every week on top of it, but I’ll do my best.

As always, don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

 

Flash Fiction Friday Number 16: A Portrait In Red

Hey guys. It’s that time of the week again. This week’s offering comes with a warning. Parts of this story are somewhat gruesome. So if you’re the squeamish type, particularly when it comes to blood, you might want to look away. For the rest of you, I present…

A Portrait In Red

An out of breath Anton looked around at his now trashed studio and smiled angrily. Broken paintings lay everywhere. The entire room was spattered with a galaxy of color radiating out from a sun of smashed paint tubes.

“There. Much more fitting for a trash artist like me.” He said to nobody in particular.

Anton turned to the one survivor. A blank canvas supported by his trusty easel. The easel he’d bought in a junk shop eons ago. He’d tried all sorts of fancy new easels, but always came back to this one. Sometimes he thought that maybe the easel was the true source of his talent.

“What talent?” He said to the trashed room.

The critics had hated his work. One had described him as another piece of street trash pretending to be an artist. Another had simply called his work forgettable.

Anton looked down at his right hand which still clutched the large kitchen knife he’d used to slash his paintings. He approached the blank canvas.

“I’ll show them. I’ll give them something to remember.”

He drew the knife up his left wrist, severing the artery. The first gout of blood spattered the pristine white canvas and he laughed maniacally. Knowing his time was limited, he snatched up the first brush to hand, dipped it in the freely flowing blood and got to work.

He painted frantically. Only pausing for a moment at a time to glance at the mirror before attacking the canvas once again.

Finally it was done. He stumbled back from his painting to admire his work. The vibrant red was already fading to a dull brown, but it remained an almost perfect self-portrait. Then the painting began to blur, finally becoming completely black along with the rest of his studio.

When Anton awoke, he was staring at his still trashed studio, although the angle was a bit funny. He couldn’t tell if he’d been out for minutes, hours, or days. He tried to look at his watch, but found he couldn’t move.

“Great, idiot. You didn’t kill yourself, you just somehow managed to paralyze yourself.” Anton thought to himself once he discovered his lips wouldn’t move.

Then he saw it. Laying on the floor was a large lump that vaguely resembled him. He realized he was looking at his own dead body. Was he a ghost? Why couldn’t he move?

Just then, the door to the studio flew open and his agent, Kathy, breezed in, followed by her weaselly assistant, Kyle.

“Anton? Are you home? I do hope you’re not still sulking over a few bad reviews.”

Kathy paused, taking in the carnage.

“Ugh. What’s that smell?” Kyle asked.

Kathy strolled over to the lump on the floor, surveying his dead body.

“Oh, Andy. What have you done?”

“Who?” Kyle asked.

“Anton. Andy was his real name. He thought Anton sounded more artistic.”

“I’m over here.” Anton tried to say, thinking it as hard as he could.

Karen turned, as if she’d heard him, and walked over, staring him right in the face. Kyle followed.

“Ugh. What the hell is that?” Kyle asked, wrinkling his nose.

“His last statement. One final middle finger to the art world.”

It was then that Anton realized what had happened. He was trapped  in his own self-portrait.

“Should we get rid of it?”

“Are you crazy? Call the gallery. Let them know we need the space for another auction as soon as possible.”

“For one painting? What are we going to fill with?”

“Look around.” Karen said. “This room’s filled with paintings.”

“Destroyed paintings that nobody liked a week ago. Should I at least have them repaired?”

“Oh heavens no. Leave them as they are. Those art snobs may not have liked them before, but now they’re filled with the artist’s dying rage. They eat that crap up. And this monstrosity will be the jewel in the crown. Thank you Andy. You’ve just made me a very rich woman.” Karen said, laughing.

Anton was forced to watch as the cops came and the coroner loaded up his body. As his landlord sneaked in and raided his private possessions. And finally, as his paintings were repaired with strips of duct tape and loaded up before he was finally snatched up and put in the crate with the rest of them.

The auction went well. Anton watched in an amazed sort of rage as people paid thousands of dollars for paintings he hadn’t been able to get five for just a few weeks before.

Anton was bought for an ungodly amount and hung on the bedroom wall of an elderly art collector who liked to wander his house naked.

.     .     .

So that’s it for this week. I know some of you might not find the ending very scary, but I can’t think of many things more scary than that. Anyway, I hope you liked it. I’ll see you next week with another Flash Fiction Friday.

Remember to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

 

Flash Fiction Friday The Thirteenth Number 15: The Family Estate

Hey guys. I’m finally back with another Flash Fiction Friday. What with it being October and a Friday the Thirteenth, I just had to post something a little scary. Admittedly, I would have liked to have spent more time on this one, but I don’t think it’s too bad.

The Family Estate

Elizabeth’s head reeled as the car bounced along the dirt road that led to the enormous castle.

It had all happened so fast. She’d been working as a waitress in a greasy little diner and on the verge of being evicted from her tiny apartment when he walked through the door and swept her off her feet just like in one of those fairy tales.

She’d just been Lizzy then, but he’d insisted on calling her Elizabeth and it had grown on her, especially considering her new, nearly royal, lifestyle.

It had been a whirlwind courtship followed by a small ceremony. Neither of them had any family to speak of and the only friends she had were her former coworkers from the diner. When he’d approached her with his desire to move back to Romania and into his family estate, she hadn’t even needed to think about it before she’d said yes. He hadn’t told her it was an actual castle until they’d turned onto the unpaved road that led to it.

As they pulled up to the massive wooden doors, she made to grab the small suitcase that contained everything she cared about.

“Leave that.” Gregory said. “Cromwell will get it.”

“Who?”

“Him.” Gregory said, pointing out the car window at a skeleton of a man who had appeared as if out of nowhere.

“Oh, there’s no way…” She began, before Gregory shushed her.

“That’s what he’s here for. It’s okay, he’s much stronger than he looks.”

Elizabeth felt doubtful, but didn’t argue.

Gregory stepped out of the car and took her hand.

“Now, allow me to show you to your room.”

“You mean we won’t be living together?”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of me than you could ever want.”

She followed him into the castle and up a flight of stairs which led to a long hallway lined with dozens of portraits of women. Their clothing progressed through the ages as she made her way down the hall.

“Who are these women?” She asked.

“Those who are no longer with us.” Gregory said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Finally, they reached a thick oak door, and Gregory opened it with an antique key. Beyond the door was a huge room decked out in the finest silks and velvets. The bed alone was as big as her old apartment.

“Of course, you’re welcome to redecorate as you see fit. Just let Cromwell know and he will get you anything you wish.”

“How?” She asked, looking around for a telephone or something.

“Just ring this bell.” He said, pulling a thick velvet rope. She heard a bell ring in the next room. “His room adjoins yours. He’s here to attend to your every need.”

As if on cue, Cromwell appeared from his room with her suitcase in hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things to attend to, my love. I will see you again for dinner.” Gregory said, taking her hand and kissing it. As he did, Elizabeth could have sworn she saw a flash of teeth. But they couldn’t be teeth. Nobody had teeth that long.

Gregory slipped out through the oak door, closing it behind him. She heard the distinct sound of an iron key turning into an iron lock. She felt something drip onto her foot and looked down. Her hand was bleeding where he had kissed it. Small red drops stained the white carpet.

Elizabeth turned to Cromwell, still not understanding.

Cromwell stood before an easel with a blank canvas propped on it.

“Now then. Shall we get started on your portrait?” Cromwell asked, smiling. His fangs clearly visible.

.     .     .

So that’s it for this week. Hopefully I’ll have another one for you before the thirty-first. Until then, be sure to check out all the places I can be found online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

 

 

What’s Up Wednesday: A Breakdown, Home Free, & Bookapalooza

Hey guys. I guess it’s that time again where I tell you about my week.

To be honest, the few days between my last post and the weekend were relatively uneventful. I worked, I tried unsuccessfully to get the house clean, and I worked again.

Then on Saturday, we started the day by haunting our house for Halloween. Due to a death in the family a year ago, we didn’t do much to celebrate our favorite holiday, so I was determined to be prepared for it this year. We hung up all of our decorations, including several decals which were meant to stick to the wall, but are already peeling off. Still, we got the house relatively spooky.

After that, it being possibly one of the last truly gorgeous days of the year, I jumped on the new bike to take it for a good test ride. Since my old bike just wasn’t good at keeping up, I jumped on the freeway and really let her rip. Since Shannon and my mom read this blog, I won’t say how fast I got it up to, but I chickened out before coming anywhere near its top speed.

Once I got into Sturgis, I took it to the parts shop both to show it off and look at accessories. It’s nice having a bike made within the past twenty years. You can actually still get parts for it.

After spending time at the parts shop, I decided to take the long way home via Vanocker Canyon, a beautiful ride through the black hills.

As I was leaving Sturgis, my speedometer stopped working. Now if I had been smart, I would have taken it to a friend’s house and left it there until I could arrange a trailer to take it home, but I wasn’t about to let a little mechanical trouble ruin my day, so on up the canyon I went. (Yes, I’m stupid sometimes.) I was absolutely loving the way the new bike took the turns. I felt much braver on this one than on my old bike because it sits lower and has a heavier, more stable base.

Then, about ten miles in, the engine started to sputter. Again, I should have turned around and nursed it back to town, but I didn’t. I hoped it was just a hiccup that would even out, but it didn’t. After about another mile, it died completely. I coasted as far as I could and then sat there on the side of the road for a few minutes, begging it to start, but I was getting absolutely nothing at all from the starter switch. I called Shannon to ask her to get ahold of a friend of ours who could rescue me with his trailer. Luckily I had just enough signal to make the call. I was told it would be about forty-five minutes. Luckily he was available to come to the rescue at all.

As I waited, I got a brilliant idea. I would turn around and push it back up the hill I had just coasted down. Beyond that hill was a ten percent grade for a good couple of miles. I figured if I could get it rolling fast enough, I might just be able to pop-start it. It took me what seemed like forever, but I finally crested the hill pushing my beast and jumped on. After catching my breath, I let go of the brake and began to coast. I started going faster and faster. I still had no speedometer, but I felt like I must be going at least the posted speed. I popped it into gear and let go of the clutch. The engine felt like it revved to life. I squeezed the clutch lever back in, hoping to heat the engine running, but nothing. Again and again I tried, but no luck. My new baby was well and truly dead.

Finally, the ten-percent grade leveled out and once again I found myself on the side of the road. Unfortunately, while I was a little closer to town, I didn’t have any shade in my new location. I probably should have just stayed put. I did have several people stop and ask if I needed help, but I told them I was good. Sitting there waiting, I came to the conclusion that since I knew for a fact the battery had a full charge when I left the house, there must be something wrong with the charging system.

At least I got a little laugh while I waited when a big bad biker passed me on his Harley blasting the new T-Swift song.

Not too long after, the cavalry arrived. I still can’t thank him enough. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise. We got the bike loaded up fairly quickly considering how heavy it is, and he drove me home.

With the bike stored safely in the garage for another day, I quickly bathed and dressed to go see Home Free.

They were absolutely amazing to watch, even if our typically choice seats were ruined due to the venue adding extra folding chairs right in front of us.

Still, it was an amazing show.

After the show, we went to the dinner we were forced to miss due to my mechanical mishap.

On Sunday, it was time for one of my favorite days of the year. The day which we’ve come to call bookapalooza. It’s the day that Shannon, my librarian girlfriend, has to spend her yearly budget. It’s so much fun to walk into a bookstore and buy several hundred dollars worth of books. I had meant to get a picture of them all, but I forgot. Unfortunately, my brilliant idea to push my bike the day before got my back hurting again. Luckily it’s not as bad as it was.

And really, that’s about been my week. I’m still trying to get into a regular writing schedule, but it seems there’s always something I need to do. Thankfully, the hotel is starting to calm down so I can start getting some writing done there at least. I’m almost looking forward to winter because then people won’t expect me to leave the house so much. I said ALMOST, nature. Don’t make with the snow just yet.

Oh yes, one more exciting thing. My brother has decided to take me to Ireland for my birthday in February, so I’m thrilled at the thought of seeing the motherland. Hopefully it doesn’t take too long for my passport renewal to go through.

Well, that’s about it. I’m still working on that Halloween story for you guys. It’s jut not coming out quite the way I want it so far. Hopefully it’ll be out before the 31st. But hey, if it’s not, I can just say I’m imitating the Simpsons.

I’ll see you guys soon.

Stalk me online

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon