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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
  • August 8, 2012

    A Writing Update, August 2012

    So this morning I woke up with my left eye swollen shut. I kid you not.

    Seriously, I looked like Rocky from the movies after a few rounds. I have had allergy reactions to things in the past, but nothing like this.

    After a doctor and a specialist, it turns out to be related to allergies and the outrageous levels of pollen in the area. Of course, as a writer, I immediately wondered if there was some symbolism going on.

    Symbolically: What am I not seeing that is right in front of my face? I mean, that is what it would mean in a book, right? I am blind to something…

    Or, realistically it is just allergies and I need to take a break… Kiddies be warned: becoming a writer or studying English Literature can warp your perspectives, you look for meaning everywhere! (more…)

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  • July 27, 2012

    Permanent Spring Showers, Chapter 1

    Permanent Spring Showers

    Chapter 1

    The Argument

    –

    It probably all began far before the argument.

    It might have even begun before the affair he had, no matter how brief it was. He wanted an excuse to end it, her mind cried at her. His penis only gave him the excuse he was looking for.

    … The fact it was with one of her students was just the icing on the cake.

    –

    “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

    She turned back to him; it was the first time she even dared to look at him since he broke the news to her that morning before her flight. And yet all she could think right then was why did he have to chase her around the house in that old raggedy bathrobe? That damn old weather worn bathrobe he bought on their honeymoon. “God, help me,” she thought to herself staring at the pleading man, “he looks like a broken bunny in that hideous thing.” (more…)

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  • July 26, 2012

    My Online Literary Experiment: An Introduction

    I want to do something dangerous.

    Yes, I want to do something fraught with peril. Something that could literally make or break this little writing blog. Something that will put my ego (no matter how minor it is) on the line.

    When I started this blog my goal was to get my writing voice back (I explain what I mean a lot more in this recent editorial here), and after seven months and 190 entries I feel I have done much of the repair work needed. In other words, I am happy with where I am creatively and I trust myself again to create.

    My brain is back on.

    Yes, I have confidence in my ability again, it has returned, but now I want to be tested. And if you stick around this blog you will see the result of this experiment I am giving myself… and like I said this could make or break the site and that confidence I have worked so hard in over 500 pages of editorials to bring back over this year. (more…)

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  • July 19, 2012

    Book Review: Summer Morning, Summer Night 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 have reviewed three of his books (Something Wicked This Way Comes, From the Dust Returned and The Halloween Tree). This review is on Summer Morning, Summer Night, published in 2008.

    –

    I have attempted to write this review three different times. Frankly, this difficulty is because I am uncertain what kind of a book Summer Morning, Summer Night by Ray Bradbury is exactly attempting to be.

    • Is it a sequel to the great Dandelion Wine and the embarrassingly bad Farewell Summer?
    • Is it a collection of unpublished short stories?
    • Is it new work?
    • It is old work?
    • Is it an insight into Ray Bradbury’s notebook? A collection of unfinished ideas and unused snippets?

    The frustrating answer is yes and no to all of my questions.

    The best way I have discovered to explain this book is to think of your favorite CD. You know how artists will sometimes include an additional CD in a boxset? It might include demos, songs that were cut from the album, and early versions of the songs you love? Well, in many ways, Summer Morning, Summer Night is that additional CD for Bradbury, and like one of those collections there is good and bad, and a little of everything within it. (more…)

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  • July 11, 2012

    Now Serving 10,074

    This entry is about time.

    The first stop is into the past, to the beginning of this blog. And let me be frightfully honest, I began this blog for purely selfish reasons. There was nothing in my mind really about readers, it was merely to get my writing voice back… and yes, it was something I had lost and in many ways I thought might have been gone for good.

    See, a few years ago I lost my literary agent (I wrote extensively about this experience in this editorial as well), and it devastated me since I knew, in losing that agent, I had lost time in my career. Like being forced to go back spaces in a board game; I was near the end of the game, and now I was back at the first square, wondering how I got there and do I really want to play so much of the game again?

    No. My initial reaction was to walk away from the board and throw my token back in the box. I was over it. (more…)

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  • 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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  • July 2, 2012

    Book Review: From the Dust Returned by Ray Bradbury

    When Ray Bradbury died Entertainment Weekly listed some of Bradbury’s books that their readers might not have read. These were not the classics, but more like hidden gems for readers to discover. From the Dust Returned was one of the books listed, which is what drove me to pick it up.

    From the Dust Returned is the story of a house filled with ghosts, the undead, and other supernatural creations. There is one human living with them, a young orphan boy named Timothy, and it will be his fate to write about them.

    For me, upon my reading, I had two reactions. First, I am not sure why Entertainment Weekly listed this as one to discover. I could have easily named a handful that would have fit more perfectly into that distinction (Did they just call the publisher? Did they just Google?). The second is the untapped potential for the work, leaving me with the feeling I read the shadow of a good book; not the good book itself.

    Ray Bradbury stated that he had spent fifty years working on this book, but with an imaginative mind like Bradbury I really have no idea what that means. He was always creating, always generating works. Chances are, for me, when a book is not being moved forward it is for a good reason, I am waiting for that lightning bolt to truly ignite the creation with a Frankenstein scream of “It’s alive!” (more…)

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  • June 27, 2012

    A Bit of Jane

    So I am still working to find a traditional publisher for the work. Yes, the grind continues…

    I’ve seemed to have hit some roadblocks regarding agents.  While the responses from agents who have read it to be very kind (for example, “well-written” and “captivating”) and all note that they think it will find publication and success, I have yet to get the gold; in other words, one that feels inspired to push it for that “success” and “publication.” There is one agency I still have my fingers very crossed about, but if I hear a negative from them, I plan to try a different route- going right to small publishers and indie presses. (Oh, and if you are an agent or a publisher reading this- I don’t bite, please contact me. Seriously, I’ll send you flowers.)

    Anyway, to keep myself inspired for the possible hard work ahead, I thought I would share some of the book here, Chapter 9 from Part II; one of the big turning points in the book. (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 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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