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An anthology of original
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An anthology of original
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E.R. Mills Click here to read the story I wrote this story in late 1998, have been editing it ever since, and submitted it to this site in late September of 2001. Lastly, there be emotional angst and turmoil within this tale. Consider yourself warned. I originally wrote this story on September 29, 1998. It took me about two hours to finish the rough draft. To say it seemed to just flow from within me would be an understatement. It NEEDED to come out, and I had no choice but to oblige. However, I hid the story from anyone, even myself, for about a year, deciding that it was mostly written for a personal need and didn't really need to see the light of day. That and back then I was very shy about sharing my writing with others. The significance of the day on which it was written is that it was the one year anniversary of my own mother's death. I was in a weird mental state at that time, having just recently moved to a new, and very different state where no one had ever known my mother. Writing this story was a sort of therapy, a way in which to deal with the emotions I was feeling at the time. No, my mother did not die in a car accident. I didn't want to write a story, however, about exactly what happened to me. It's more of a metaphor for how I felt at the time--sort of, emotionally speaking, wandering back and forth through a desert. I've never actually been to the desert, but oddly enough its' a theme that runs through many of my stories. Take that for what you will. So anyhow, about a year goes by and I dig the story up again. Finally, I worked up the nerve to show it to someone--a girl in amy Algebra class that I hardly knew--and her response was so positive that I decided to post it on the web. And then this site went up, and the good people who run it asked me to submit this story. I was only happy to comply. The story holds a special place in my heart--it may not be the most current example of my writing skill (har har), but it is very much a good representation of the place I was in when I wrote it, and it means a lot to me. I hope that you, the reader, enjoy my little tale. That's all I ask. Links to other stories by little ole me that I would humbly ask of you all to consider for posting at the site:"Dammit...Visits the World Again" www.agog.net/batgirl/stories/dammit1.html and the sequal: "The Adventures of Dammit in the Real World" www.agog.net/batgirl/stories/adirw.html Good for laughs: "The (Real) Story of Adam and Eve" www.agog.net/batgirl/stories/adamsteve.html Good for headaches: "This Is Not An Exit" Click here to read the story If I wanted to get really pretentious, I'd call this story the second installment in my Late September Story Series (and hey, what's wrong with a little pretense, I ask you?). Also originally an assignment for a fiction writing class, this was, oddly enough, written in late September, much like "Back Across the Desert" (the first in the series). So, they have similar inspirations. This one's a bit less dark, a bit more "bathroom reading" (as one of my peers so quaintly called it), and a bit more autobiographical than "Back Across the Desert". But not entirely. Anyhoo, it is what it is. And I hope it's enjoyable. I think the most
lovely comment I've gotten on this particular tale was also the most
random. I got an email, just the other day in fact, from a woman in
Alaska that I didn't know. She said she'd merely been surfing the web
looking for tips on how to bake bread, and my story came up. She decided
to read it (lord knows why), and said though it wasn't what she'd been
looking for, she was very glad to have read it. Made Click here to read the story My Women's Studies courses have been touching a lot on the idea of gender as a social construction--that is, something that can't be defined in definite terms in any sort of black and white way. Some cultures have up to five different gender classifications, some stubbornly stick to extremely limited views of sex and sexuality. I drew on some of my own experiences and those of people I know, and expanded upon that basic idea: what is gender? what is sexuality? but I decided to do it in a personal way, regarding only one individual. Call it soul-searching. Maybe it's society-searching too. Click here to read the story I still can’t believe I ever finished something of this length. While it’s not the deepest, most profound thing I’ve ever written, I am most proud of this, my very lengthy baby. The title was inspired by a quote from a book by Darcey Steinke called "Suicide Blonde" (which is excellent), that goes, "And I knew my memories, childhood or otherwise, were simply time I rose up into consciousness and was intensely myself." I really dig that quote, and something about it made sense for this story. Now a damn good question to start with would be, “Where did the idea for this story come from?” And I’d answer, saying that, “That’s a damn good question.” I just figure that my ideas come from some slightly dank and poorly lit place in the back of my mind that I'm only just beginning to explore. But I did get the basic idea for this little tale from the strange phenomenon known only (and quite mysteriously) as "Uber". If you know what that is, then you’ll get it, and if not, then just read the story blissfully unawares as to its’ sordid origins. I used to live right by Chicago, and my dear sister resides in the city itself, so I actually have some knowledge of the place. I am also madly in love with the place. The streets mentioned in the story really exist, and the Halsted area is actually known as Chicago’s “official” gay district. They even have these neat, rainbow-colored streetlights. The characters, well, they’re based loosely on some famous television characters, but over a bit of time they evolved and became their own entities. So I can’t take complete credit for them, but enough to make me feel good about myself (zestfully clean, and all that). The second half of "Rising Into Consciousness", (aka “Duality”) was started immediately upon finishing the rough draft of the first half. Basically, Auset and Reese weren't quite through with me yet; they had a few more things to do and say. This part of the story was much easier to write, as the characters had really come into their own and started speaking for themselves really. Props and praise: A big what's-up to my faithful psuedo beta reader, Ali -the-ever-enthusiastic, and to Kamouraskan for being so durn friendly and encouraging (Kam's writing once saved my life and the life of my roommates). Thanks to Dar for getting my often times messed up timeline all straightened out. Another big what's-up to anyone else who actually read this, and of course big heapin' helpings of thank you's to those webfolk who posted my stories on their sites! =) I love you guys! Click here to read the story This short story was written in an attempt to get the ball rolling for a longer novel that I'm now in the process of researching and writing. That one will probably take a really long time to write, but in the meantime, I have this shorter, self-contained story to offer up. But I wanted to start right off by writing a bit about the intentions
of this story (and the novel that will follow) and such, because it
does manage to deal with some tricky subject matter. For instance, I'm
sure that no matter how tactfully and skillfully I manage (or don't
manage) to write this story, someone, somewhere will be offended by
it simply because it deals with all manner of religious imagery and
history. You mention the name Jesus (or refer to someone as a 'messiah'),
and some peoples' hackles just rise instinctually. But the thing is
this, I'm not writing this to prove or disprove anyone's faith. I'm
not writing this to outright offend anyone. I'm not writing this with
any malicious intent. I am writing this because Religious history (and
I mean all Religions) absolutely fascinates me, history in general fascinates
me, spirituality fascinates me, and human nature fascinates me. And
I like to write--controversial as it may be. I'm writing this because
an idea struck me whilst sitting in Religion class, and me being the
wacky child of a minister, I decided to explore it further. These are
just ideas, imaginings of my idle brain. My goal is to present an interesting,
creative, possibly thought-provoking story that incorporates true history,
mythology, religious history/mythology, crazy imaginative fiction, and
human beings just trying to deal with all that. So, take it for what
it's worth, and please don't get too offended...because if you do find
yourself severly offended, then I might suggest taking a nice long vacation,
because my fiction ought not be able to shake your foundations if they're
solid. Click here to read the story I wrote this story on assignment for my Creative Writing class. We were just suppose to write a short short story that was from a single point of view. And so I did. And for some reason unbeknownst to me, this is what came out of it. I dunno really where the idea came from...perhaps it had to do with me listening to Massive Attack's "Mezzonine" and the Abstrakt compilation CD while I was working...and maybe the fact that I hadn't had more than 5 hours of sleep in the past two days...all contributed to this little surreal story. Who knows? But here it is. The story-within-the-story, btw, about the swan and the scorpion, is actually an old old fable. I believe the original actually had a frog carrying the scorpion, but ah well. Artistic Licsense. Click here to read the story OK, so this was inspired by a word challenge (i.e., "incorporate the following list of words into a story") sent to me by some lovely folks, and really I've no idea where the actual story itself came from. Perhaps I'm just a morbid kinda gal, perhaps I just enjoy stringing words together. Who knows? The point is, it's very short, it's kinda sad, but I rather like it. I think the best stories often come from that place within that you hadn't even known existed before, and oftentimes forget about shortly thereafter. Perhaps it's better that way. In any case, I do hope you enjoy. For further commentary and more general babbling by me, please feel free to check out: www.agog.net/batgirl/stories/storynotes.html
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This site contains some material which is of an adult nature. Please read the ratings codes for each story. Wordscape Fiction logo designed by JLynn |
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August 2001 by The Bardic Circle. |
The Bardic Circle takes no responsibility for the content or subject matter of works posted on this site. All works of fiction contained within this site remain the sole copyright of the authors, and should not be copied or used without their permission. |
