Installment 2 – The Reader

Posted: January 25, 2012 in Uncategorized
This is the second installment of a story that will unravel slowly, week by week. Check back to find out what happens as the tale unfolds. Updates will be posted on Twitter and Facebook.

 

 

A Fiction story

By

DAVID ROSS WILLIS

The sky quickly darkened around her followed by a light drizzle, causing her to turn on the windshield wipers.  “I don’t remember hearing anything about rain today, she said, while the wipers labored, squealing back and forth. Emma accelerated the car not wanting to get caught driving in a southern downpour. A small brown bag containing two chocolate cupcakes teetered on the edge of the passenger seat; she used her right hand to stop it from tipping over onto the car mat. The last thing she wanted was to bring Ethan a flattened dessert. He never cared about such trivial things, but she did.

Emma’s thoughts drifted to the first time she met Ethan and she found herself missing her turn as the drizzle dramatically turned into a hard rain. The fierce tap-dancing of the raindrops on the car’s metal roof went right through her head.

“Dang it! Wake up Emma!” She banged on the steering wheel a couple of times. Without signaling, she pulled over onto the shoulder of the road to attempt a u-turn. A truck whizzed by with its horn angrily blaring, scaring the life out of her.  Emma’s body trembled, then tears rushed from her eyes…

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Installment 1 – The Reader

Posted: January 19, 2012 in Uncategorized
This is the first installment of a story that will unravel slowly. Each week, I will add more details, more back story and more to the plot. Check Twitter and Facebook for updates.

A Fiction story

By

DAVID ROSS WILLIS

PART ONE

Emma Walker could not envision five years passing since her husband, Ethan, had accidently come across the quaint old town of Richmond Hill while driving to Savannah for a business convention. It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall in love with the area. Neither had family ties; Emma and Ethan were all each other needed. So, they packed their belongings, leaving the hustle and bustle of city life. They cashed in enough savings to put a down payment on a beautiful old colonial-style house right off of the Ogeechee River, secluded from the rest of the world.

It had been a dream come true.

PRESENT TIME

             Emma drove alone, eastward in her Ford Sedan on highway one-forty-four, through the town of Richmond Hill, heading towards home. She took a quick glance in the rear

view mirror at herself. “How could a thirty-five year old look so tired, so…so old?” Emma said out loud.  She often talked to herself, figuring she wasn’t crazy as long as she

didn’t carry on a lengthy conversation. A habit Ethan never seemed to mind…not one little bit.

The sky quickly darkened around her…

Writing away everyday!

Okay, I admit it, I love writing mystery/suspense. If you’ve read my book, Lonely Deceptions, you know what I mean. I recently attempted to write a simple story about a fictitious baseball team. No harm in that, right? By the second chapter it turned into a mystery/suspense…go figure.

I guess what I’m trying to convey is, what many, many people have suggested before me…write what you know, what you love, what you get excited about. I believe then your story will ring true, even if it takes place on a planet billions of miles away or as close as your own backyard.

I have some tools, so to speak, which help me when I’m writing a story. This may or may not help you while staring at a blank piece of paper.

Write every day, this builds up your imagination and creativity.  (Simple for me to say, harder to actually do).

For a few minutes at night I take out the thesaurus, pick out random words and create sentences around them. For me, this little exercise is actually a lot of fun.

I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this last thing that I believe helped me in my writing, but, when my daughter was younger she loved having me play dolls with her. We would create lavish adventure stories for the dolls to go on, complete with dialogue. And at the end we would even do a blooper reel. By the way, now my ten-year-old daughter is writing her own short stories.

Happy writing everybody!

 

In my book, Lonely Deceptions, I drew upon my memories of my parents to breathe life into my main character’s mother and father. Since family has always been important to me, it only felt natural to have it be important to Nick Davis as well.

In one moment of the book, Nick is remembering his youth, walking hand in hand through the snow with his mother. Every time—and I mean every time—I read that part in the book, I can almost feel my own mom’s hand guiding me along the snowy streets, see her smile beaming down at me. The fact that I can share this one tiny moment in time of my life with readers is priceless to me.

From the very beginning of the book we find out that Nick’s father, Nelson Davis, is lovingly odd; a character’s character, so to speak. There’s a particular embarrassing moment for Nick when his father thinks nothing of calling his son in the middle of the night to discuss a Viagra-like television commercial.  Nick’s father is loving, funny and too over-the-top quirky to be real.  Having said that…let’s just say that Nick isn’t the only one to get a call from his father in the middle of the night.

Unlike the villains in my mystery/suspense stories that I write, Diabetes is a monster that readily shows itself whenever and wherever it pleases.

I have no doubt that my mother’s last years would have been completely different if she had ate healthier and above all else, if she would have seen a doctor once a year for a routine examination. My mom did neither of these.

The day we found out that diabetes was robbing my mother’s eyesight was surreal to me. I guess the most frustrating thing to me was that I was helpless to get her sight back.

In my mom’s specific case, diabetes did more than rob her of her eyesight, through a series of unfortunate events it caused her to suffer tremendously through her last few years on earth.

In the beginning she refused to let her handicap slow her down so she did volunteer work at a senior citizens home, but one day the traffic light had broken and she attempted to cross the street and was hit by an automobile. She had to learn to walk again, but the diabetes and the car accident had weakened her heart and she went through a triple bypass.  I know this sounds like a story of fiction, but my mom had to live through it. Our family had to live through it.

As I mentioned before, Diabetes is a monster, one we cannot take lightly.

For more information about diabetes, living with diabetes, and what you can do to help, see this website from the American Diabetes Association.

 

 

 

The importance of family bonds…hmmmm…perhaps this is the one true single thread that ties my main character, ordinary man, Nick Davis of Lonely Deceptions, with myself. Unless, of course, my family is involved with spies…

I’ve always believed that family comes first. It’s sad to me that my mother and father never got to see this book published or the new chocolate store that we have opened. (Although, I do believe somehow, somewhere, they do know). We are here for such a short time. For that reason, it baffles me when I hear of a friend’s family not speaking with each other for years over what usually amounts to be a very inconsequential disagreement.

Back to Nick Davis…his love for his sister, his father, drives him throughout my story. Because, if he didn’t care—and at the first sign of trouble—he would have probably ran and hid and then I guess my book would have been about ten pages long.  Without giving away the plot, Nick has an unconditional love for his family. This love allows him to go through all of the craziness and bad guys that I can through at him and come out of it a hero. At least, I hope, a hero in the reader’s eyes.

As you may or may not be aware, I write in the morning and make chocolate in the afternoon. I wonder what would happen if these two worlds—a 1940’s mystery and a chocolate store—collided.

 DEATH BY CHOCOLATE

Death by Chocolate fudge?

The lanky, unshaved, man sat in the dimly lit store waiting for anyone to walk through the front door. He didn’t have to wait long.  A woman, dressed to the hilt, sashayed in.

“I hear you may be able to help me,” she said in a sultry voice.

The man stood up and surveyed the woman. She was good-looking enough, with legs that went on for days, he thought. But what stuck out like a sore thumb was the brown smudge on her left cheek. Yup, she was a chocolate lover all right.

“My name is Mel…Carl Mel. What can I do you for?” he said while heading towards the back of a gold-plated glass showcase.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for something,” she uttered in despair, tears seemed to be welling in her eyes. “Death by chocolate fudge,” she whispered. “Do you have some?”

Mel put the lights on showing a wide variety of fudge including death by chocolate. He put a piece in a box. “That’ll be $4.95. By the way, what’s your name?”

She took the chocolate. “Candice, but you can call me candy.”

Of course it was, he thought, and sat down to wait for the next customer.