Four Stories
Categories: Fiction, Literary Fiction, MWS Media Publishing Formats: Audiobook, E-Book
Four Stories puts the spotlight on revelations of clarity and epiphanies of character in the face of emotional challenges.
Description
In this collection, each work of fiction is accompanied by a brief essay exploring the formative experiences, memories, and themes that inspired the work, making this a very personal and intimate collection.
The book opens with “You Got Me,” in which the way two people each get through one particularly rough day might have a lot to do with how they spend their days to come.
A musician struggles with expectations and understanding when he travels far from home with his new band for “Gig Number Two.”
He says it’s “Not My Fault,” but is something driving a wedge between them at their anniversary dinner, or is he just… distracted?
“The Days of Wine and Roses by The Dream Syndicate” provides a mental soundtrack for a reluctant walk through memory and pain on the way to save a troubled damsel in distress, one last time.
Each of the Four Stories is fiction, but they each have a piece of the author woven between the lines. You might find yourself in there, too.
What You Get
Choose among the following:
- E-Book: an industry standard EPUB file compatible with all e-book apps and devices, including the Amazon Kindle. All of my digital products are free of DRM (digital rights management) restrictions. You are free to use the EPUB file on any of your personal devices.
- Audiobook: Three MP3 files, read by the author.
Sample:
Four Stories
The car, the rain, the ride.
It was a long one, that ride, right down through the center of California, with the ocean far, far to the left, and the desert, the mountains, the rest of the country much too far off to the right.
Just farms, and flat, and the rain, all around.
We made a little convoy: me and Dan in his Volkswagen Bug; Andy in his Econoline van with Stan (the kid), and Ava, who made sure she and I did the three hundred mile trip with a hundred feet of freeway between us.
Dan and I didn’t have much to talk about. He never did, with anyone. Even on stage, he kept his guitar playing out of the way of my bass and Ava’s voice. Whatever else happened, we never had to worry about the guitarist’s ego breaking up the band.
In the car, after the radio stations ran out and the cassette tapes had all been played twice, and then three times, over, I wished Dan had something to say about… anything.
The beat of the wipers across the windshield was putting me to sleep. I tried again.
“So, what do you think we should start the set with?”
Dan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I guess it should be something fun, ’cause we won’t get more than a couple songs in before we’re shut down.”
I nodded. “Not much chance these friends of Andy’s got a noise permit, is there?”
“Nope.”
Dan drifted away.
I reeled him back.
“What’s the deal with this thing, again? Some ex-girlfriend, or something?”
“Of Andy’s,” Dan said. “Not mine. He met her at the river, and they’d screw around when he went out there to work.”
“Long way to go for a gig.”
“I think Andy’s expecting compensation,” Dan said.
This would be our second gig as a band. The first had been in Andy’s cousin’s garage. Two months later, and we’re driving to the middle of California mostly so he could screw an old girlfriend.
I made an effort to keep the pout out of my voice. “More than the rest of us.”
I glanced in the rear-view mirror. Andy was flashing his brights: the signal to get off at the next exit.
We pulled into a truck stop. Tractor trailers lined up like metal sauropods at a greasy watering hole. The rain didn’t seem as heavy once we were off the freeway. I unfolded myself from the Bug and walked back to the van while Dan pumped gas.
Ava got out of the van and stomped her feet. I shoved my hands into my pockets and stood near her.
“Shit! My legs are asleep.” It was a perfect example of one of her go-to omni-directional comments: a simple declaration, neither soliciting, nor requiring, a response.
I had one anyway. “Not as bad as having no feeling in your ass.” I smiled. “Think of a name for the band yet?”
Andy and Stan came out of the van. Ava turned toward them, away from me. “Are we eating?”
Stan slapped his own shoulders. “Yeah!”
Andy rolled his eyes and smiled. “The kid’s growing up so fast. C’mon.”
Ava went. I watched their backs.
Dan said, “Go ‘head. I’ll catch up.”
“I’m not hungry.” I did have to pee, though. I went for the bathrooms.
On the way out, I almost collided with Stan going in.
“Dude! Sorry!”
“It’s all right.”
Stan was all crowded grin and long limbs. He flailed his arms like semaphore flags when he got excited.
“Dude, Ava is like, totally hot! Do think she’d go for me, even though I’m like, what, five years younger?”
I blinked rain. The feeling in my ass was starting to come back, no doubt thanks to the rising pressure of my blood. Stan knew no better, so I smiled at him.
“I don’t know! Good luck, dude!”