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The Kirbybrook Siege

by Michael Morgan

All rights reserved

Authors Note: The Kirbybrook Siege is part of the “Yojimbo” series of short stories and novels. I will be posting future installments as time permits and based on reader feedback, so please leave some comments.

 

—  1 —

            “Still watching those guys making out in the park?” Bill’s sudden words jerked Adam out of his reverie. He turned away from the window, feeling guilty, but not sure why.

“Huh?! No, I… just lost in thought,” Adam finished lamely in the face of Bill’s grin.

“Not like I can blame you,” Bill said. His grin vanished, “They’re about to take the phone’s offline, so they are letting everyone go home.”

Adam glanced at his dark monitors, and shrugged, “Curse of the modern age. No power, no work.”

“Now the bad news,” Bill scratched his nose. “The generators are running out of fuel, so they’re shutting down everything. A/C, elevators, all of it. The last elevator rides are reserved for those on the ADA list. You get to walk down. Sorry, man.”

“Seventeen floors of stairs,” Adam thought. “At least it’s not a damned fire drill.” He stood up, and grabbed his hat. The cowboy hat had appeared after his hair finally committed suicide. Now it was like a part of him. “Come in tomorrow, or wait for someone to call after power is back on?”

Bill shrugged, “Wish I knew. Cell service is out. My phone is working, but I can’t get any service. Just be ready to get back to work when you get the word. Take care going home.”

“You too,” Adam watched Bill lurch down the hall. His arthritic knees bought him a ride down the elevator today, but watching him tough his way through the pain every day, did not make Adam envious. “Just have to hope the car starts,” he thought as he tapped his pocket to make sure his keys were there. Walking back up seventeen floors would be a bitch.

— 2 —

            “Crap!” The garage door refused to open when Adam clicked the remote. Twenty-four miles between the office and home, and it had taken three and a half hours. Every traffic light was blinking red. Between boiling road-ragers, and people too stupid to handle a blinking red light, it was a miracle he had made it home at all. The radio was nothing but static from one end of the dial to the other. People on the streets alternated looking at their phones, and asking each other for news.

Adam pulled into the driveway of the house he had lived in for the past seventeen years. Nothing luxurious, but it was paid for, and large enough to cover his collection of “stuff” as George Carlin would have called it. The mailbox was empty when he checked. “I guess it probably would be, considering the power at the office had stopped around 8:30,” he thought as he locked the little door again.

The door opened, and the inside air was a little cooler than the Texas summer outside. He quickly closed the door to keep it that way. The normal drone of electronics was deafening in its absence. “Hello,” he called to the strangely silent interior. No answer.

He glanced at the table where his wife normally left her purse. No purse. He went through the utility room and opened the interior door to the garage. No car. Nobody home.

Notes were normally left on the kitchen table. No note. His daughter’s book bag was nowhere to be seen. Pick up should have been at 4:00, so unless the school had gotten word out,

they are probably stuck in traffic. Give them another hour, and then…what? You really think you can find them yourself? He shook his head to clear the dark thoughts, and pulled the jug of bleach off the shelf of laundry products.

An hour later both tubs were as clean as he could get them and the water was barely trickling from the faucet. Both tubs were a bit over half-full. Enough water for a couple of days if they were careful. After that? It was not a comforting thought.

Best go put the car in the garage, he thought opening the utility room door, and flipping the switch for the lights out of habit. Ten minutes, and a fresh set of batteries for the flashlight later, the car was in the garage. Should find the keys to the garage door since the opener won’t work. Adam walked back into the house through the utility room checking his phone along the way. Still no signal and no WIFI. Phone back in the pocket, and Adam looked around his living room wondering what to do next. The clock on the mantle showed 7:42, Starting to get dark. Better find candles or something.

A Journey of a Thousand Words

By Michael Morgan

All Rights Reserved

 

One of my coworkers (Yes, most authors write as a side hustle.) asked me how my novel is progressing. After I shared my news, he said, “I’ve always wanted to write a book. Maybe one day when I have the time…” I stopped him right there because the “Maybe one day…” sentiment is the omnipresent excuse for people who like to fantasize about becoming a writer. My advice to him was to start small.

You have a story you want to tell, so tell it. Just do not think you have to tell it in 300+ pages. Pick your character, and think about this like a Kung Fu movie.

1. Something happens to your character that forces them to take action.
2. Along the way the character meets “The Master” that teaches them the skills necessary to deal with their problem, or some boon companion who helps them along the way.
3. Something happens to remove “The Master” sending the character off with renewed determination to resolve the problem.

Next, tell the story in small bites. I’ve chosen 1,000 words as a reasonable “bite” because that is the number of words I can easily write on a daily basis. This bite gives me space to have some character interaction, describe some action, and set up the next bite. The end of one bite sets up the beginning of the next bite, and gradually, the story comes out. If I get on a hot streak and the energy is really flowing, Great! Groovy! Yeehaw! I don’t stop working until I can write the set up for the next bite. If I write 3,000 words in a sitting, fine with me. If I feel like I am writing crap, I put it aside and think about the story for a while. The characters will wait.

The person who is going to be most critical of your work, and do their best to talk you out of writing your story will be yourself. Nobody can judge the value of your material until you have written it and taken the emotional plunge of sharing it with others.

Give yourself the chance to be great! If writing is not your thing, you will find out pretty quick, and cross it off your bucket list knowing you gave it your best shot.

Some odds and ends to think about:

• “Write the types of things you enjoy reading.” ~ Stephen King
• Write what you know about, but feel free to change the setting. The movie “Outland” with Sean Connery was the story “High Noon” set in outer space.
• Stories can be set almost anywhere because the interaction of the characters is independent of the location. The location just adds flavor. Star Trek has the same story structure as the old TV show Wagon Train. Deep Space 9 was Gunsmoke.
• What happens before the story starts is important even if those events never appear in the story. Those events shaped the character making them who they are. Sometimes these formative events can help you resolve a problem when you write yourself into a corner, and need a clean escape. This deserves serious thought.
• Set the hook early by giving the reader a reason to care about the character. If nobody cares about the character, nobody will care about the story. Read the stories that are most popular and try to figure out why you care about every character. Then pay attention to what happens to each one. Nobody cares when the generic Imperial Stormtrooper gets blasted, but when Gold Leader crashes into the Death Star, a character the audience has known for all of 90 seconds of screen time triggers an emotional reaction. Why?
• Let other people read your work and provide feedback. Listen to them. Think about it like market research. You do not have to make changes based on everything your readers say, but the input is invaluable, and can spark new ideas.
• The world is awash in people who will “teach” you how to write the next best seller. Some of the information is OK. Most of it is garbage. Very expensive garbage. Be critical of “the Master” you choose. Many aspiring authors get so bogged down in “learning to write”, they never actually write their story, and that is a guaranteed loss.

Only one thing can make you a writer. You have to WRITE. Famous writers would not be famous if they had not written something down and given it to someone else to read.

Start with a 1,000 word bite, and write something. When you are done, let it rest overnight, and then go take out every word that does not help the story move forward. This may require you to rewrite some bits. That is good exercise for trimming out useless words as you write. Hand your work to a friend who is interested in the type of story you have written, and listen to their input. Wash, rinse, repeat.

This link goes to a story I wrote for a short story contest:

Three Righteous Souls – A short story (The beginning)

After I posted it to my blog, the feedback I received lead to 14 more installments, each about 1,000 words. The first installment came in at 1,022 words.