Plot… the most important element to your stories. Your plot moves your characters in a certain direction. They, your characters, may have free will, but without forces acting against them, there is no story. How do you create a plot that your readers will want to invest in?
Tag: fiction
-
Why You Should Become Your Character’s Creepy Stalker
Characters… the most important element to your stories. Your characters need to be likeable. They need to be real. They need to be interesting enough so your readers will continue to read your book and, hopefully, your series. So how do you create characters that people want to invest in?
-
BMCR Boot Camp Transformations
Daryl and Gaines ran towards the track. Unlike the rest of the 001, the monsters had extra training. They were late. Daryl couldn’t even fathom what DS Foote would do to either of them. Gaines was literally going to be the death of him.
“How could you forget that we had extra training tonight?” asked Daryl as they ran towards the pull-up bars.
“Relax, Kerns,” said Gaines. “We were going to be punished anyway. We’re the enemy here.”
-
Hush part 2
Thomas lowered his binoculars.
“Tom!” said Alec, his business partner, “You need to stop obsessing over this girl! We need to get back on track. Sam Walton, himself, wants to talk to you and you only. You made quite the impression on him and if you don’t show up, we may lose our contract.”
Thomas stared at him. He saw his lips moving, but he couldn’t focus on him right now, he had to watch for Bev to leave the flower shop, where she worked, and then tail her to her next stop…
Alec shook him. “Tom! Please! I know you don’t care anymore, but please do this for me! We’ve been working on this product for 10 years. It took us 2 years to get any shop to stock our it. This is a chance to be in a growing chain of stores. Walmart has 24 stores! We can make this happen, but I need you to forget her.”
‘Forget her…’ Thomas heard that. He stood up and violently ripped Alec’s hand off of him.
“I love Bev!”
He wanted to break Alec’s nose. He needed Bev in his life. He wasn’t going to lose to some strange jerk, pretending to be her boyfriend and he wasn’t going to let his business partner get in the way either.
“If you touch me again, I’ll cut off your hands,” said Thomas.
Alec fell backwards. “I’m done, Tom. We’re done. You’re not a part of Romo any more. Don’t contact me again.”
Thomas sat back down on the bench and raised the binoculars back to his eyes. There she was. She just stepped out. This was his chance to get to the bottom of this.
He stepped up and moved in a crouched walk, his eyes never blinking staring straight ahead at his target. He stayed 20 feet away from her on the opposite sidewalk. She seemed to be heading home.
He straightened up. People were staring at him. He couldn’t draw any more attention to himself. He had to be stealth. When he got there, he was going to confront Bev and figure out why they weren’t together.
He was there! Thomas ducked behind a mail box. He peaked over top of it to the stranger standing next to his car staring right at him. Bev reached out to him and he acknowledged her, nodding his head upward. She turned around and saw him too.
This was not how he wanted things to work out.
Here he comes. The stranger is walking towards Thomas, his fists clenched. Thomas stood up erect, to his fullest height. He was ready to fight to the death if he had to.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have to talk to Bev,” said Thomas, bringing his fists up.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you. You’re scaring her. If I catch you following her again, I’ll call the cops. This is your last warning.”
He stood there blocking Thomas’s view. He couldn’t see her! He tried to peer around the man.
He stepped so close Thomas could smell his laundry detergent.
“Leave! Right now.”
Thomas shook. His mind furiously cycling on how to get rid of this brute. He punched him in the chest and turned around and ran. He ran back to the park bench.
He doubled over, wheezing, fury rising, what was he going to do?
“Watt kin I do fo you?”
Thomas let out a yelp and tumbled backwards onto his bottom. A peculiar man sat on the bench. He sounded otherworldly and his garb equally so: he wore a black blazer, studded with spikes on the collar, a black fedora with a leather strap wrapped around with three strands of stone, bone and feathers hanging from it, and a leather strap around his neck, dangling a metal and bone, engraved with weird symbols.
Worse of all his face. Painted on was a skull that covered his whole face. His lips whitened, as well as his gleaming teeth. He smiled as he tipped his hat towards Thomas.
Thomas looked around, they were alone. It was eerly odd; the park was never this empty. He seemed to be gathering his wits for the first time in weeks. What was he doing there? What was this man doing there?
“Watt kin I do fo you?” He continued to smile, more like baring his teeth. Thomas stood up slowly. He didn’t want to take his eyes off this man for fear of being bitten or something worse.
“I’m not looking for any trouble,” he said.
“I don bring trouble, my child. I bring opportunity.”
“I… I don’t want what you have.”
There was something wrong with this man. He stood up and extended his hand. Thomas did not take it.
“I kin give you anyting you desire,” he said, “Fo da right price.”
Thomas hesitated. “What price would I have to pay to have her?”
-
Vengeance
This story is dedicated to the fuck face at Goodwill one Sunday morning…
Lyndon Crallis drove his car to Goodwill because he had a small donation to give. He drove down the path to the back entrance and found a mound of boxes and garbage bags full of stuff waiting to be picked up by the Goodwill handlers. Parked outside the door was another vehicle. Lindon didn’t think anything of it; surely this person wouldn’t hamper his progress
He opened his trunk and pulled out his intended donations, and stacked them neatly with the rest of the pile. He went back to his car, hoping that the person in front would move so he could pass.
It did not move. Lyndon saw the man sitting there in his seat, just waiting… Perhaps he was waiting for help to carry some heavy donations out of his SUV, but since Lindon didn’t want to stay trapped behind him, he walked up to the driver’s side door to ask if he would move closer to the building.
“Excuse me sir,” said Lyndon, “Could you please pull up closer to the side of the building so I can pass through?”
“No. Just put your vehicle in reverse and leave.”
Lyndon persisted. “I’d really hate to run into someone while I’m backing up. There is plenty of room on the side that you could move over and I could pass through.”
“I’m not moving. It’s your fault for getting here early. You should just wait. Or you can go in reverse.”
Lyndon’s patience had left him. He didn’t want it to come to this. He was trying hard to turn a new leaf and be a good citizen, but his pride wouldn’t let him.
“Alright sir,” he said, turning around. And then, loudly enough for the man to hear out of his open window. “May all your tires burst and you are stranded here for 3 hours.”
Lyndon stepped back into his car and watched as the man flipped him the bird. Lindon put his car in reverse and backed up around the corner to a side parking spot. He parked his car and pulled a large tactical knife out of his glove box. He stepped out and walked back to the SUV and jabbed his knife straight into the back passenger tire. It popped and hissed as Lyndon pulled the blade out and made his way to the driver side back tire.
“What are you doing? You mother fucker!” the man stepped out of his car as Lyndon popped his second tire.
“Making good on my curse,” Lyndon said, a crooked smile stretched across his face. He hadn’t felt this joyous since his last vengeance.
“I’ll call the police you lunatic!”
Lyndon pushed past him and slashed the driver side front tire. He turned and stared at the man. “So?”
The man shook as his car sunk to its hub caps with Lyndon’s final stroke. Lindon walked back around to the man.
“Aren’t you glad I didn’t curse you with a knife to the gut?”
He brandished the blade near the man’s belly, making quick slashing movements. Lyndon’s skin grew hot with the intensity of his furious ferocity. He loved it. He felt free; alive!
The man backed up into his car, his eyes welling, streaming with tears.
Lyndon jabbed at the man’s eye, the man yelped, but Lindon’s blade did not cut. He simply dabbed the flowing water at the man’s left eye, wetting his blade. He brought it to his mouth and a savored the emotional outburst on his tongue.
“You’re lucky. You saved yourself this day, you old fuck. Be kinder to people from now on, won’t you? I’d hate to run into you again.”
Lyndon folded his knife and walked away. The man fell to the pavement as the Goodwill employees finally opened the door.