Author Archives: coolerbs
Building A Book: The Mountain Of Paper
Wow. There it is. I did not realize how satisfying it would be. To look at it. To see it. Stacked there after three hours of waiting.
Am I being vague?
Yes, yes I am.
It’s because it’s somewhat odd for me to go into this. But I think it’s time I told all of you. Stopped keeping it a secret.
I printed my manuscript. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: My Past Is Cold
Oh boy, this series again. The fourth in the Cold Saga is a little different than the others. If you haven’t read them, fair warning:this is a prequel to three other stories. I suggest starting with those.
1st: My Fingers Are Cold
2nd: My Feet Are Cold
3rd: Our Hearts Are Cold
All caught up? Then let’s begin. Continue reading
Endmare #4: “Animals”
Outline Outrageously Fast
This is my opinion. This is not a provable science. This is how I do it now, and I find it effective.
If you don’t like artistic things being too mechanical, this will not work for you.
But, that said, do you want to outline and organize a new novel fast?
Then read on. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Guilt
I awoke to the smell of ash, and the taste of rot, and the whispers of nightmares. At the foot of the bed was a shriveled corpse, with a blue jacket laid over it.
“Well, did it work?” came a voice from the walls.
I pushed off the blanket and it slid onto the floor. Next to me, by my head, the window blinds covered up a sight I was sure I did not want to see. I focused on my center and spoke in a calm, collected voice. Continue reading
Endmare #3: “Plants And Trees”
A Special Announcement: Endmare
I believe it was Chuck Wendig who said a writer must have another artistic outlet beyond writing. And I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts.
So, I thought I’d make my own. But, as you all know, I am not one to do things in the normal way.
So instead, about 35 days ago I began recording. A semi-improvisational project based around on-the-fly observations of the world around me. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Electricity
The night crackles, and in a odd place two people bond.
And the story of it is called:
Electricity
“Count with me,” she said, her eyes as bright as the flash, her hair pressed up under the covers. “One, two, three, four, five.”
CRASH
I laughed, and I could feel the impact through the covers. The air seemed to hum with the force of the sound. The hair on my arms stuck up into the air. Continue reading
Writing Has Rules…Or Does It?
Writing has rules. I don’t think anyone who’s been at this writer thing a while would argue with that. But, at the same time, we artists tend to like to break the rules, don’t we? It’s an odd relationship, and it leads me to my topic of discussion.
How important are writing rules? Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Don’t Move
No monsters. No demons. No evil.
Sometimes even I need to just write a tiny, funny story. I call it:
Don’t Move
Well see, here was the problem. I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t know how she’d take it. She was going to freak out.
She needed to know though. I would want to know if I was in her shoes.
“Don’t move,” I said.
So, of course, she moved a step across the kitchen floor. I followed her, sliding to her side, and continued to track with my eyes. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Glasses
I thought I’d try playing around with perspective a bit, and this was the result. A story called:
Glasses
—
An empty pair of glasses laid on a table, a thick, syrupy liquid running down the left lens. Around it boiled various beakers of odd colors and odder smells. The glasses reflected light across the spectrum of human vision. A literal rainbow cast into the air. Continue reading
To The Internet
Hello Internet,
You and I have been friends for a long time now. We’ve been through things together, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.
But, now that I know you so well, I feel there are some things I need to tell you. Some things that, maybe, you could improve? Continue reading
Microfiction: Analog + Poem: I Can’t Not Rhyme
Well, this is a new one. This week, because I ended up creating two smaller pieces instead of a flash fiction, I thought I’d present them as a package deal.
They are both comedic, so it does work…kinda.
Enjoy.
MICROFICTION: ANALOG
First Draft Finished Feelings
Everything starts out as a first draft, be it the smallest poem, to an entire freaking novel. And because of some–for now– secret reasons, I’d like to talk briefly about the sensation of completing the first draft, the brain dump, the raw creation.
More specifically, the mental process I go through when I finish a first draft. And perhaps you do as well. Continue reading
Coolerbs Writes 