I'm Coyote Too, the Trickster. My intentions are good, but I don't always leave well enough alone. Watch your fingers, you may get burned.
Note: This site contains mature topics and content which may not be appropriate for everyone. Certainly I don't deal with them very well.
Welcome to what I hope will become the focus of this site. After more than twenty-five years of only ever writing technical and opinion pieces, I've decided to make writing fiction a major part of my life. We shall see what comes of it.
BTW, just because this is in a different section than "Erotica", that doesn't mean the stories will never have erotic elements, any more than life doesn't haven't erotic elements—it's all a matter of a focus. We'll see where the stories take me.
This was writen as part of @SensualStories wonderful Journaling Game Twitter project, which I credit with kick-starting my fiction writing after a 25 year hiatus. She solicits phrases on Twitter, and then encourages people to spend a few minutes writing a short piece that uses one of the phrases; it doesn't have to be the one you submitted, nor do you have to have submitted one. It's a nice way to get your creative mind going, and to get feedback on your writing. I highly encourage trying it out.
The phrase I submitted and used was “The past exists only in your mind.” (from Hardcore Zen, by Brad Warner). You can find my original post on her site here.
As an added bonus (?), you can hear me read this piece on AudioBoo.fm.
They say the past…
This piece is 2 or 3 chapters into an urban fantasy I am writing, and it's only the first page and a half of the chapter. I haven't written any of the rest yet, I wanted to start here to try to get a feeling for how the whole thing would work but picking a critical moment for the main character and expanding on that. This is very much a first rough draft (I've barely re-read it myself), so I'm not looking for syntax corrections, I'm just curious whether it feels right. Does the story draw you in? Does it need more or less description? That sort of thing. I'd very much appreciate that feedback (and anything else you'd care to offer). Many thanks.
The Augury
The Harvard T stop was was full of the usual rush-hour crowd; students streaming out…
I tweeted this in the morning, when I was feeling a little drained and overwhelmed, and more than a little like I had no solid place to stand.
Some work their way through forests dark, tree to tree over tangled roots.
Others rest in gladed peace, drawing strength from midday sun.
I stand in brambles and dusky shadow, watching ghostly figures pass.
Behind is sun-dappled safety, but I fear the fading path.
If I reach out my hand, will I drown in the dark?
I tweeted this short piece as I was heading back north from a roadtrip that had taken me from Massachusetts to Florida and New Orleans, with a few stops in-between. The short form (restricted to 140 characters) resulted in something a little more melodramatic that I felt, but it captured some of what I saw. It's a hard time for a lot of people, both financially and emotionally. It was a wonderful trip, and I met (and almost met) many people I've wanted to see, but still it's had a touch of sadness.
I dreamt of walks; wooded streams, thoughtful words.
I sought love; gentle agape, passionate eros.
I found sadness; the fear of dying alone.
This was my July 10th entry into @SensualStories #Journaling Game. You can see the original post on her web site. People on Twitter submit phrases, which she posts. Then anyone who feels inclined can write a short piece using one of the phrases. The stories are posted on her website for comment. Most, but not all, the stories are somewhat erotic, but it's a great writing exercise, especially if you're trying to get back into the flow of writing stories. The phrase was, "theres a shadow just behind me, shrouding every step I take", from "Sober" by Tool, submitted by @purplehayz.
The rain fell softly on the leaves above me. Nature’s odd hold on time still left a few minutes respite before they reached the forest floor. Later, when the clouds…
I don't offer this as a stellar example of writing, it's more a historical curiosity. I've started going through my papers, and I found this. I wrote it in college, I'm guessing either my freshman or junior year—either way, a long time ago. It's a pretty obvious Lovecraft/Howard derivative, with all that classic angst and darkness in it. I was probably feeling horribly unloved or something :-). Anyway, here it is.
What leathery wings flaunt shadows in hell?
What ancients crawl from pit to pit in slithery silence?
Better forgotten; not sought out,
by mortals with so small a grasp on sanity.And yet some seek such creatures of terror,
far beyond recall themselves,
deep within sepulchral halls,
in vaulted caverns and bloody crypts.They weave…
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