mirage stories

Mirage Weekly Newsletter — 28 July, 2017

In today’s edition of the Mirage Weekly Newsletter, I talk about what to expect from next week’s story, The Voice of the Wild, reveal an excerpt from the short story, and have a quick word about the grim reaper, who keeps hovering near me.

Read the full PDF here!

mirage stories

Mirage Weekly Newsletter — 21 July, 2017

In today’s edition of the Mirage Weekly Newsletter, I talk about a successful week writing, my disabled sister’s 29th Birthday, and a book about one of the greatest movies of all time, JAWS.

Read the full PDF here!

 

 

mirage stories

Mirage Weekly Newsletter — 14 July, 2017

In today’s edition of the Mirage Weekly Newsletter, I talk about returning to writing, my wedding day and aftermath, and yet another death in the family.

Read the full PDF here!

mirage stories

Mirage Weekly Newsletter — 2 June, 2017

Today I’m introducing a feature to my website that I’m very excited about. The Mirage Weekly Newsletter will be out every Friday, and you can consider it something like a mini-blog.

You’ve probably noticed that my blog updates are often infrequent, as I only like to post when I have something worthwhile to say. Ergo, these newsletters will offer a great avenue for keeping my readers up to date with my writing exploits. It also allows me to say a few things without committing to a thousand-word blog every time.

Click here to check out the first issue now!

Mirage Weekly Newsletter [1].png

scrawling a short story

Scrawling a Short Story: Part I, An Unexpected Beginning

If there’s only one question I see more than “How do I write?” it is: “How do I keep writing?” I would like to preface this blog by saying I do not possess the definitive answer to this question, because there is no answer. Every writer will have a different experience, and no amount of goodwill preaching can crack the quantum code. Don’t listen to those overly-charismatic e-commercials that promise to make you the next Stephen King with This One Simple Trick! Writing has always been a journey of discovery, and if you press forward long enough, in the end you’ll find something magical. My only hard advice is to keep writing, no matter how hard it might seem, and do not be thwarted by a lack of immediate success: a small success should still be seen as a success.

With that being said, today I’m going to introduce the first in a series of blogs where I intend to detail the process of writing my latest short story, Prime Mover. From its initial conception, to the drafting process, to finally publishing it on a very poignant day, it is my intention to offer some insight into the life-cycle of a short story. This is not a How To Guide or a Writing Short Stories For Dummies book. Remember, if you want to write, then write. Nothing I say is going to make you want to pick up your pen. This blog series is more of an exposé; a chronicle of the process, which is more educational than instructional. At the very least, there will be a few cool tidbits along the way, so I hope you’ll join me.

If you haven’t read Prime Mover, I won’t spoil too much. It’s not mandatory—this isn’t Short Stories 101, there are no textbooks, nor a final exam—but I encourage you to give it a read just the same. If you email me and cite this blog, I’ll happily send you a complimentary copy. How’s that for a good deal?

For those of you who have read Prime Mover, you’ll know that it begins as a relatively grounded story, and becomes more and more incongruous as the narrative progresses. This is a great metaphor for the writing process, which always has humble beginnings before it pirouettes out of control and becomes nothing like you originally conceived. All of the best stories grow organically. That isn’t to say you shouldn’t plan ahead, but you should always allow the characters and events to come alive and sway your hand, even if you don’t necessarily agree with them.

The following picture is the hand-written first page of Prime Mover:

Draft (Front)

And the back of the page for proof:

Draft (Back)

For those of you who don’t know, for my day job—which is actually done at night—I work as the manager of a small logistics company, delivering newspapers. The first embodiment of Prime Mover was scrawled on the morning of Wednesday, 11th February, 2015, on the back of the previous day’s invoice for my Daily Telegraph delivery pallet. I can’t exactly say why inspiration struck at that particular time, except that I had nothing else to do. This is by no means my normal modus operandi. I usually do my best thinking when I pace around my office, but for some reason, my inner-voice spoke to me that morning.

I’ll transcribe the page for those who can’t read my hasty penmanship:

Ralph Mortimer had clocked over 1.5 Million kilometres in his ________ truck, and she sailed the bitumen roads as if she was only a week off the lot. Nineteen years it had been. Nineteen years of pallet-drops, poultry, pig faces, newspapers—not for a good decade now though. He was one of the many blood cells of the Australian body, zipping to and fro along the spiderweb highways, hauling the weight of worlds for petty cash.

He picked up his last load on November 19th, at 2:16 from Chullora, and by the 6 o’clock news that night all of Australia knew his name.

Compare this to the opening paragraphs of the published version of Prime Mover:

In thirteen years, Ralph Mortimer had clocked over more than one million kilometres in his Kenworth prime mover. She was a twin-stack, blood-red, 15-tonne mistress, and he had spent more nights with her than his own wife.

Ralph had carted everything from company cargo; to live poultry; newspapers; furniture; even pallets stacked with pig faces and festering with maggots, due to be churned into gelatin and stuffed into roadside pies. He operated as an independent contractor, so when his services were required, he offered them without query or complaint. He was half-convinced the trailer he’d picked up from Wilcannia some years ago had been brimming with marijuana—the sweet aroma far too reminiscent of his misspent youth—but he hadn’t asked any questions, and his eventual fee had been handsome. So long as Ralph was paid his dues, he didn’t really care. Not too much.

Of course, there was the all-too-frequent bastard who cheated him out of more than a few bucks, and once in a while the man (or woman) he was working for would vanish, never to be heard from again. He had lost thousands in his time on the road, and there was shit all he could do about it. It was just the nature of the beast. You took the good with the bad, the bad with the ugly, then you got on with the job. That was all there was to it.

It’s amazing what two years and a dozen drafts can do, eh? As you can see though, while there are a lot of notable differences, the core of the narrative is still the same. I’ve taken the brief bouts of exposition from the first draft and expounded upon them, giving depth and character to Ralph’s experiences.

I have a lot more to say about the changes therein, but I’ll save them for another blog, as they’re quite extensive and definitely warrant a more thorough examination than I can offer now.

I hope you enjoyed the first entry in Scrawling a Short Story! It’s great to be able to share this experience with you, and if you have any questions or comments, please don’t hesitate to send them my way.

 

Happy reading, happy writing, happy life,

Kev