Short Story: Feeding the Muse

"Some days, Simon, I really loathe you," Mariel said, with just a hint of genuine venom. She dropped the Writers Digest on the table, its cover and front pages folded back to reveal a page mostly consumed by a photo of Simon at his writing desk. The image was full of deep shadows, moody, and deliberately included the dark, heavy bookshelves that surrounded him, their worn hardwood planks supporting hundreds of hardback classics, sheaves of loose papers, and the occasional occult or funerary artifact - a human skull here, a hand of glory there. Block letters above it pronounced Simon to be the "Modern Master of Horror and the Macabre." Simon sipped his espresso double-shot latte and produced a wry smile. "It's not my fault if you can't keep up." She twisted her mouth into a sarcastic kiss and pretended to fix her lipstick with her middle finger. "Some of us just refuse to sell our artistic integrity on the open market," she said

About Fred Carter

Fred Carter and the Mardi Gras Monster

It's 1989 and an ancient evil is trying to free itself from its extra-dimensional prison into the revels of Mardi Gras. A heroic adventurer and his spell-slinging ally are hot on its trail. And Fed Carter, an ordinary, everyday Joe - or is he? - stumbles right into the middle of it all.  Join Fred as he descends from our reality into one of friendly witches, gator-faced demons, and ancient goddesses looking to settle scores.

This story is an experiment - an attempt at writing a story in a linear, serial fashion, with only a loose outline and a few characters to guide the way. There's the barest of editing, and no real plotting. It's just a stream of consciousness piece to let me kick back and relax my brain a bit..

This is writing in the raw. Er, wait, maybe that's not the best way to describe it...

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