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The Stories of Scott D. Southard

  • In Jerry’s Corner
  • A Jane Austen Daydream
  • Permanent Spring Showers
  • Megan
  • Maximilian Standforth and the Case of the Dangerous Dare
  • The Dante 3
  • Me Stuff
  • Man Behind the Curtain
  • July 10, 2012

    Book Review: The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury

    Since the passing of Ray Bradbury, I’ve been re-reading his books (or reading ones for the first time), trying to find a lost classic, a gem I had not discovered before.  So far I’ve reviewed two of his books (Here are the reviews: Something Wicked This Way Comes and From the Dust Returned).  Today, I review The Halloween Tree.

    –

    The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury has had a thorny history. It began as a screenplay for an animated film that was not made, then turned into a young adult novel, then into a screenplay of a holiday special and finally into a more finished version of the book… Whew… It’s exhausting just writing that, I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for Bradbury.

    The Halloween Tree is more than a celebration of Halloween, it is a celebration of death, and because of it also a celebration of life. (more…)

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  • June 28, 2012

    Life’s After Thoughts

    I don’t believe in ghosts.

    I can say, for example, that someone died in my bedroom  (It is an old house) and I have yet to see any specter on a dark moonlit evening. No screeching screams demanding I leave the premises; nor have I felt even the slightest presence in the room. For my children, it is the refuge they go to after a bad dream or to seek comfort. There is nothing there to scare them away.

    One of my favorite stories about the “unknown” comes from my little brother when he was a kid. He and one of my young cousins got their hands on an Ouija board and decided to talk to demons. He came running up to me later declaring that they had spoken to Satan!

    I, being the arrogant teenager I was at the time, said something like, “Oh yeah? How did he spell his name?”

    My brother proudly replied, “S.A.T.I.N.”

    The Reason

    My grandfather, my last grandparent, passed away earlier this year (I wrote about writing his obituary here). To say my grandparents had an impact on my life is to put it mildly. Next to my parents, they were one of the most important influences on my life. They were my safety net and they caught me numerous times while growing up. (more…)

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  • June 26, 2012

    Upon The Ground: Progress

    Well, this is it. The last story from my collection Upon The Ground. It is a stream-of-consciousness literary piece entitled “Progress.” I am pretty proud of it, and if you have been reading the collection, it ties in quite a few of the other stories as well (Not that you need to know that to enjoy the story).

    Here is the beginning of the piece:

    –

    “Progress”

    …death sneaks in like a viper slithering in the mud of existence aching for some flesh to bite into, reeling it’s way into your body, up and up past your slowing heart past your feeling lungs, your paling face and eating into your brain. it takes your memories and sinks you into it’s life. oh god, i’m dying. i can see it in her eyes. she has beautiful EYES. they are so blue. i’m looking up at her and trying to smile. she is holding my hand, so sweaty. she is trying to talk to me…. shhh….. shhh…. her lips are shaking. why is everything white? is this a hospital? i’ve never been to a hospital before. ironic that the one time i go to a house of healing is to die. i’m dying. i felt fine yesterday. such a wonderful day yesterday. all my family was there and i cooked outside. the sun was a bright red and i held her close to me. such a perfect day.  the sky was colored with red, purple and blue as the sun set and her skin felt so soft. it slipped away so fast. so, so very fast. death is not a fair creature. it is hungry only, fangs glistening. i can feel it taking my body. i feel so weak. i can barely keep my eyes open. i want to look at her. i want to see her. fight this. you can fight this. you’ve fought so much. you’re better than this. you want to live. i want to live. i can fight this. she looks at me concerned. she can see the pain in my face. i need the pain. i need to stay. the pain is what make me mortal. the pain is what makes us mortal.

    –

    I want to thank GreenSpotBlue for choosing my book to share with their readers. Their support for my writing has always meant a lot to me. If you would like to check out the book, the link are up at the Upon The Ground page on this site. Thank you for reading!

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  • June 20, 2012

    Book Review: Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

    I first read Something Wicked This Way Comes while as a teenager. I was going through a massive Ray Bradbury kick, and I was devouring his books like many do pizza. Something Wicked found its way in between some of his other works in the monthly large pile I got from my local library, and I must admit at the time it didn’t make a dent on me.

    It didn’t emotionally touch me as Dandelion Wine or inspire me like The Martian Chronicles or R is for Rocket. I can clearly remember spending most of my time reading it comparing it in my mind to the movie version by Disney I had seen a few years earlier. Yet, when people talk about his classics, especially after his death, Something Wicked is always discussed; so to honor the great man I decided to reread the book again.

    Something Wicked This Way Comes is the story of an evil carnival that invades the town of Green Town, Illinois (A town that will not sound unfamiliar to readers of Mr. Bradbury). Two boys, Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway, are the only souls in the town that are able to see the carnival for what it is, a place of evil magic and sinister characters. It is after the carnival workers (under their leader the illustrated man, Mr. Dark), realize the boys are on to them that things start to become more intense.

    Something Wicked has an interesting history to its creation. It first began as an abandoned short story, then Bradbury turned it into a screenplay after being inspired by Gene Kelly.

    No, I’m serious. (more…)

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  • June 19, 2012

    Upon The Ground: Under The Angelic Glow Of Dusk

    Today is the penultimate short story from my collection Upon The Ground, which is being shared online via www.greenspotblue.com. Today’s story is entitled “Under The Angelic Glow Of Dusk.” Take from it what you will.

    Here is the beginning of this little strange tale:

    –

    “Under The Angelic Glow Of Dusk”

    “The Time has been catching us off guard,” she said to me and I, still reeling from the wind and the parties, only laughed at her notion and called her mind a good hangover waiting to happen.

    She did not like my comments (typical) and shunned me for the first two days of our assignment. This probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much if we weren’t supposed to be wife and husband in this little life moment. On Friday, I got sick of her little games and in a dark corner in a dark moment after breakfast (which consisted of coffee or tea (decaffeinated), corn flakes (dry), and milk (cold).) I confronted her about the so-called importance of our assignment.

    As she angrily argued back at me her wings rustled under her silly white dress. She hated me.

    I laughed at that and reminded her small mind that she wasn’t capable of hate. Her and her little angels and their white hair and white eyes and white gleaming teeth never hate- Even those easy to. She then said it may not be hate but it was the closest she had felt to it. I had to laugh at her honesty, even though just the sound of her voice annoyed me.

    She then stated that she was very sure she hated the sound of my laughter (it is a dark loud, booming laugh that echoes with screams of those inside) and then went and compared it to angry bells banging against the side of her ears. All the noises of lost times.

    –

    You can read the rest of the story here. You can also catch up on the previous stories from Upon The Ground via the links on this page. Thank you for reading!

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  • June 6, 2012

    Ray Bradbury

    It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.

    -Dandelion Wine

    I apologize if this sounds overly dark, but the last of my childhood writing heroes is gone.

    One by one, as I get older and older, they slip away. I remember when I heard of Kurt Vonnegut’s passing. I was backing up my car from the driveway… and it was a normal day, nothing special about it. It all felt so very bland. And all they had to say on Morning Edition was “So it goes” and I knew what they were about to say. I parked my car in front of my house and hung my head. It was about ten minutes before I restarted my car and the rest of my day felt slow.

    Growing up though Ray Bradbury always felt like more than just an author. He felt like a mentor, a friend; and with his vast library of work, He always felt “available” to me—if that is the right word to use—because there was always something new to discover. (more…)

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  • June 1, 2012

    Episode Nine: Time Out Of Mind

    Episode 9 of

    Time Out Of Mind,

    The Sequel to

    The Dante Experience

    “Two Roberts for the Price of One”

    OPENING CREDITS

    Scene 1

    SOUND: Of Heaven.

    REPAIR ANGEL: Best out of three?

    KELLII: Ok. You move first.

    MICHAEL: Can you two stop playing that game! This is the throne room and I am doing important things. The big guy doesn’t want to see you playing a board game.

    KELLII: I don’t hear him complaining.

    REPAIR ANGEL: Actually, I haven’t heard him at all since I’ve been here.

    MICHAEL: Can you two please stop judging the maker.

    KELLII: Is he even awake?… Hello? Anyone there? (more…)

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  • May 25, 2012

    Episode Eight: Time Out Of Mind

    Episode 8 of

    Time Out Of Mind,

    The Sequel to

    The Dante Experience

    “Dinner With the Folks”

    OPENING CREDITS

    Scene 1

    SOUND: Of heaven and a computer typing.

    MICHAEL: Ok, I have some bad news…

    SOUND: Of computer stops typing.

    MICHAEL: I’ve been searching for three hours now and I can’t find our group of heroes. Ever since Adam threw that rock and hit the time machine, our team has been lost in time… They could be anywhere.

    KELLII: Can we play another game now?

    REPAIR ANGEL: I have Stratego.

    KELLII: Yeah, get that one. Anything better than Monopoly. Monopoly just doesn’t work for two people.

    MICHAEL: Can you two please leave?

    KELLII: I want to wait and see what happens next?

    MICHAEL: What happens next? I’ll tell you what happens next! Your father shows up and kicks my…

    REPAIR ANGEL: Hey, let’s watch the language.

    KELLII: So he is a little protective.

    MICHAEL: He threatened me for just taking you on a date!

    KELLII: See, protective.

    REPAIR ANGEL: Wait until he sees the website you created. (more…)

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  • May 22, 2012

    Upon The Ground: A Children’s Nightmare

    The next story from my collection Upon The Ground is available via GreenSpotBlue.com. It is called “A Children’s Nightmare” and you can read the story here.

    Here is a sample from the beginning:

    –

    “A Children’s Nightmare”

    The children could have spent all day looking at that tombstone. It was the most foreboding piece of marble in the cemetery. But for the children, the size of that tombstone brought along pictures of giants and monsters. And the fact that it said “Better Dead Than Alive” under the name “Jake Hawkins,” couldn’t help but make them think that it was good he was dead. Did he terrorize a village with his footsteps? Did he steal maidens from their wedding days? Did he eat people? Whatever he did in life, there was a celebration in his death.

    It might have been that problem that confused Lisa the most. For Lisa did understand death. She understood the concept at least. Her Grandmother still tells the story of Lisa when she was three and they were at the park across the street from Matt’s house. Lisa was playing on the swings and her Grandmother was talking with her Grandfather about who they knew buried in the other graveyard beyond the playground.

    Now her Grandfather grew up in a strong religious background and from time to time he would try to convince people of that fact. Especially in his old age he seemed to go back to those studies as a form of support for the coming end. It also seemed to give possibility (when he truly allowed himself to believe) for a hope, feeling and moment of happiness for the people gone.

    But her Grandmother was exactly the opposite of her Grandfather. She was an atheist of the strongest kind (actually she had an opinion about everything and every opinion of hers was strong). Her husband and she would spend days arguing about things like a game perfected over the decades of holding hands in their little time.

    –

    You can read the rest of the story here. Links for the previous short stories can be found on the Upon The Ground page.  Thanks for reading!

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  • May 15, 2012

    Upon The Ground: Jake’s Amazing Talent

    The eighth short story from my collection Upon The Ground is available for your reading pleasure at greenspotblue.com (here). You can catch up on the previous short stories via the links on the Upon The Ground page.

    Today’s story a surreal black comedy called “Jake’s Amazing Talent.” Here is a bit of the beginning of the work:

    –

    “Jake’s Amazing Talent”

    The last thing Jake expected to be when he woke up on Monday was dead.

    “Not today,” Jake moaned. Jake Hawkins was an ad consultant for a large grocery store corporation. He was born into the job. His father started the corporation over thirty years ago. Jake was raised with the notion that this great business would be his as soon as his father kicked the bucket. So patiently Jake grew up, waiting. Never did another thought enter his head other than the idea of owning this large moneymaking business.

    But now that would never happen because Jake Hawkins, age twenty-eight, was dead. He sat up in his bed, yawned, and thought about this some more. His arm itched so he scratched it. Jake collapsed back down on his bed. “Oh, why today,” he moaned again. “Why did I have to die today?”

    Today he was supposed to propose a new ad campaign to the board (He was calling it “Eat to Live.”). His father hoped that his presentation would show his strength to the members so they would not worry when he inherited the stores. But that was all too late.

    “I’m dead…. I’m dead…. I’m dead….” He kept mumbling it to himself. It felt so weird to say it. The idea of death was just something Jake never pictured happening to him. He was always raised with the notion that he was somewhat greater than normal people. He was the heir to the great business king and his veins flowed with blue blood…. Or better yet, had flowed with green money-like blood.

    He was dead.

    –

    You can read the rest of the story here. I hope you like it.

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