Christmas, Montauk, and the end of Split Rock Road.
2013 is winding down. Those of you who follow this blog know full well that it’s been an interesting year. Dare I say amazing?
I released a wonderful little book entitled Split Rock Road, and while the sales have not set the world on fire, it has been very well received. All in all, I’ve been very happy with the outcome. Two weeks ago, I took a writing trip to Montauk. It was only 24 hours, but I found it to be very productive and cathartic. I had set out to do some work on a novel that I had been working on for a few weeks. In the story, the protagonist drives out to Montauk to have a clandestine affair with a married, well-to-do socialite. When he arrives at the hotel, he finds her dead. This was going to be a side story for the novel. As I started writing, the focus shifted and I decided that she never showed up at all. I decided that I was just going to write another short story and submit it to the literary magazines. The story didn’t quite go where I wanted it to and I was ready to toss it in the drawer, but I decided to let Valarie read it.
I asked her what she thought, and she said, “You don’t like him.” That was one of the most interesting critiques that I’ve ever received. I thought I liked the character, but I had to admit, I wasn’t too fond of him. He was a tad bit shallow. He kinda reminded me of someone I used to know. Valarie said she wanted to know the other side of the story; what happened to Alicia. I’ll give that some thought.
I was ready to forget about the story, but I woke up today in a gregarious mood. I decided to clean it up and post it here. For free. A Christmas gift for all my loyal fans. All 177 of you.
On a side note, I have a friend named Brian. Brian is an idiot, but I love him dearly. He and his wife Lindsay have been my close friends for years now, and they let me be godfather to their middle child Gwen. Anyway,Brian and I break each others ball constantly. To an outsider, it must look like we can’t stand each other. A few years ago, Brian and I were driving somewhere the night before Easter. I asked him what he was doing the next day. He cheerfully told me, “Having pot roast, just like mom used to make.”
I glared at him. My mother had passed away three months prior. I wasn’t really upset, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook either. He just dropped his head and mumbled, “sorry.” I haven’t let him forget about it since. Especially around a holiday.
Brian’s mom is a wonderful lady who adores me. At a recent family event, she told me, “I read your book. I loved it.” I cringed at the thought of Brian’s mother reading “St. Mark’s Place, with it’s junkies and hookers, and all manner if ill-repute. She didn’t even bat an eye. Ever since, she’s been pestering my to write another book.
These things ain’t easy, lady.
I woke up this morning full of piss and vinegar. I decided to clean up “Montauk” and post it here for all my readers to read and critique.
Mostly it’s for you Mama Mac. Merry Christmas. Enjoy. ——> Montauk