Rough Work Part II

by Adam Huddleston

Here is the continuation of last week’s story.

Lucas alternated hammering his fists against the Waldon’s front door and jabbing repeatedly at the bell beside it. A minute later, the door creaked open and Fred Waldon stood in the entrance, his massive frame eclipsing the light coming from his small kitchen.

“Lucas? What’s wrong? It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”

“Have you seen Kim or the kids today? I just got home and the car is in the garage but the house is empty. I can’t get ahold of her on the phone either.”

Fred took the frightened man by the elbow and led him into his home.

“Sit down, son. You want a drink?”

“No. No, I’m fine.”

Waldon grabbed a couple of longneck bottles from his fridge and sat down in the chair opposite the younger man. He twisted the caps off with large, calloused hands, handed one to Lucas and waited for him to speak.

“She didn’t say anything about going anywhere tonight. And the Suburban is in the garage so someone must have picked them up. I mean, the kids have school tomorrow and all, so why would she take them somewhere?”

Fred remained silent, sipping his pilsner. When his visitor had quit speaking for a minute, he cleared his throat.

“Relax, Lucas. Drink your beer and relax. What if I told you that your family is alright? Would that calm you down some?”

“What the hell, Fred? What’s going on? Where are they!” Lucas started to get up, and with a speed belying his size, the older man sprang to his feet and pressed Lucas back into his seat.

“Be still, son. Finish your drink. They’ve been chilling all day.”

Lucas kept a firm gaze on his neighbor and did as he was told. When the only thing left in the bottle was a thin line of foam, he lowered his eyes and began slowly peeling off the label. Feigning what he hoped was calmness, he began making an inventory of his surroundings. If the situation turned south, he wanted to know if he could escape. Regardless, he planned on keeping a firm grip on his empty bottle.

The older man nodded at Lucas’s free hand. “You cut yourself?”

Lucas looked down and reflexively closed his hand into a fist. “No sir. Been painting.”

Fred gave a small grunt and continued drinking.

“Okay, Fred. I gotcha. Everything’s cool. We’re good.”

The older man stood up and leaned over Lucas. “Damn right we’re good.” He reached one grimy hand behind his back and that’s when Lucas made his move.

Holding the glass bottle by its neck, he swung downward as hard as he could in a large arc. Fred’s eyes went wide for a moment, then the bottle connected with the top of his balding scalp and split the skin open. Warm blood splattered Lucas’s upturned face, running into his eyes and mouth.

“Whaaa-,“ Fred moaned. From a holster attached to his belt, he pulled a small pistol. Lucas swung the bottle again, this time cracking his neighbor’s left temple. Fred dropped to the floor, twitched twice, and lay still.

A Bit of Rough Work

by Adam Huddleston

This week I wanted to share a small portion of a suspense/thriller/drama I had tucked away from awhile back. Enjoy (if you want), or don’t, whatever.

Lucas pulled his car into the garage and killed the engine. His thoughts were on the last email he had received before leaving the office; a not-so-lighthearted scolding regarding sales vs. purchases. He never noticed the light that usually filtered through the bedroom window blinds was absent.

He popped the radio button and slid his thin frame out of the sedan. The door leading from the garage to his family’s laundry room was locked.

Great. I always leave it unlocked for her…

Lucas turned his key, wincing as the tumblers gave a tiny shriek. He rolled his eyes at the new project his wife would be laying on his shoulders that weekend.

He opened the door leading to the kitchen and stopped. No lights were on. The house was almost completely dark. The only light he could see was the digital green glow coming from the clock on the microwave above the stove.

“Babe!” he yelled. “Ya’ll already in bed?”

Nothing.

He flipped the switch on in the kitchen and moved from room to room, turning on lights as he went. His house was empty. No children. No wife.

Lucas thought back to when he pulled into the garage and remembered seeing the family SUV in its usual spot.

Well, where was everybody?

He pulled out his phone and hit his wife’s number under the “Favorites” list. Five rings later, her voicemail informed him that she wasn’t available and to leave his message after the beep.

He sat down on the soft leather sofa in the den and grabbed the remote lying beside him. His palm pressed into something moist and sticky.

“What the-“

He pulled up his right hand to reveal a dark red substance smeared across its surface. He swallowed hard and heard an audible click in his throat. His stomach seemed to twist on itself and he feared he might vomit the fast food burrito he’d scarfed down in the car all over the den’s tan carpet.

Lucas leaped up and took a long look at the remote control that had fallen to the ground. It sat there staring up at him with its numerous eyes. The top was covered in what looked like raspberry jam.

Without another thought, he spun on his heels and ran out the front door. He went straight to the Waldon’s house across the street, absently rubbing his stained hand against his slacks. It never occurred to him that this would be the worst decision of his life.

Anagnorisis

by Adam Huddleston

This week I wanted to introduce another literary term: anagnorisis. It is derived from a Greek word meaning “recognition” and refers to the moment in a story when a character (often the protagonist) discovers the underlying truth behind something. It could be the realization of an inner-strength or ability, the true nature of an antagonist, or a deeper understanding of the situation they are in.

Depending on when this change in knowledge takes place, it may lead to a change in the plot of the story. The character alters their course of action based on the new information. So, when writing your story, if is often effective to emphasize this to the reader. Just be cautious that you don’t smack them over the head with it.

Happy writing!

Careers

by Adam Huddleston

I’ve been contributing to this blog on a semi-weekly basis for a few years now and I’m not sure if folks really know what I do for a living.

I’m a writer! (laughs maniacally) Nah, I wish I could do this full time as a career, but alas, I am only a lowly pharmacy manager. I lead a rag-tag, motley crew of some of the best technicians a boss could ask for. We spend the majority of our days trying to figure out what drug what insurance will pay for and what ridiculous code we have to put in the computer to get everything to work out right. The rest of the day is spent trying not to mess up someone’s prescription.

Strangely enough, it is at this hectic job that I get the best writing done. Whether it is the few moments in-between phone calls, or during a slower Saturday shift, I can usually bang out a few hundred words. Who knows, maybe years down the road things will work out where I could actually write professionally. Or, maybe…hold on, I gotta take this call.

Happy writing!

Euphony

by Adam Huddleston

This week, the literary device I would like to mention is: euphony. It is defined as the use of words or phrases that sound pleasant together. As individuals, our tastes in word choice and what sounds “nice” are obviously varied, but it is possible to piece together phrases that most readers would enjoy.

As you would expect, euphony is most commonly seen in poetry, lyrical works, and literary prose. The website literary-devices.com mentions that the phrase “cellar door” is often credited as the most pleasant-sounding phrase in the English language. I guess it is the combination of phonetic sounds that sets it apart.

Euphony is the direct opposite of cacophony, which is the use of words or sounds in phrases that clash and sound unpleasant.

I hope this device helps you in your work! Happy writing!

Ideas when Travelling

by Adam Huddleston

For the past few months, my family and I have been traversing back and forth to East Texas. All those hours on the road lead to wandering thoughts (many of which are the basis for my writing). I’ve noticed that most of these ideas deal with driving or highways.

For example, one of my works deals with a ghost that haunts the exits on the interstate. Another concerns a rather “enthusiastic” man who cleans up roadkill. Both fit quite well in the horror genre (especially the latter; geesh) and if I ever get them finished I’ll share them on this blog.

Does the location you’re in effect the types of ideas you get? Happy writing!

Short Excerpt from Current Work

by Adam Huddleston

This week, I wanted to share a few paragraphs from a new fantasy story I’m working on.

The voice came to O’Brien in the middle of the night like a soft breeze gliding over the top of a country stream. He had just exited one of those non-sensical dreams where you’re chastising your oldest child for eating the curtains, or where a herd of cattle is marching down the street, holding signs advocating nuclear disarmament. At first, he wasn’t sure if he had heard it, or if it was some trick being played on him by his overworked brain.

Then it spoke again.

“Build the house,” it whispered. “Eighteen inches high. Wood. Two-stories. Double-doors in front.”

O’Brien sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes. A dried line of spittle ran down his left cheek.

“Hello,” he said to the darkness. “Who’s there?”

“Build the house,” the strange voice whispered again. “Eighteen inches high. Wood. Two-stories. Double-doors in front.”

Jacob O’Brien scratched absently at his bald scalp. A few dry flakes drifted down unnoticed and landed on his pillow. He tilted his head sideways and listened to the silence, straining to hear the voice again. After a full two minutes, he resigned to the fact that it was simply a hallucination brought on by a spicy late-night snack, or perhaps a particularly strong cup of coffee with said snack.

He laid back and just as his head hit the pillow, the voice returned.

“Build the h—“

“Okay! I get it! I’ll build your little house if you just promise to leave me alone.” Jacob rubbed at his temples then whispered into the darkness, “but I still have no idea who, or what, you are.”

My Favorite Works of Fiction

By Adam Huddleston

A couple of weeks ago I published a blog concerning my favorite non-fiction books for writers. This week, I would like to list a few of my favorite works of fiction (in no particular order). As you can imagine, me being a life-long reader of fantasy and horror, the list is full of selections from those genres.

Stephen King has always been a “fave” of mine. He has a plethora of thrillers and chillers. Some works seek to get you at the “gross-out” level. Others are more intimate examinations of the inner-self. My favorite novel of his belongs to the latter; “The Long Walk.” Reminiscent of Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”, this story follows a young man as he participates in a horrific annual tradition. The book is eerie and very well written.

Shifting to fantasy, you can’t find many works better than those of J.R.R. Tolkien. In a world where new writers are shoveling their wares in both bookstores and electronically, this legendary author’s work stands the test of time and his “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy is, to me at least, at the top. It is the definition of an epic fantasy with a huge cast of characters, a sprawling world, and an entire language created by the author.

The late Michael Crichton penned a ton of great science-fiction stories, many of which were adapted into motion pictures. My favorite work of his is “Jurassic Park.” The movie, once it gets going, travels at a break-neck pace. Guess what? The novel does as well. The author even goes into great detail concerning how they manipulated the DNA to create the stories antagonists.

The last piece I’ll mention is one by Richard Adams. One of my earliest cinematic memories is watching “Watership Down” on a VHS player in my parent’s bedroom. When I was older, I discovered that it was based on a novel of the same name. The book does a great job of personifying the characters, mostly rabbits with a black-headed gull thrown in for good measure, and bringing their adventures to life. Like Tolkien, Richard Adams gives us a healthy dose of backstory, native language, and even a form of lupine religion.

Whatever your favorite genre might be, these novels are worth looking into. They will give insight into proper world building, plot, dialogue, and character development.

Happy writing; and reading!