In the continuing writing effort, I'm starting very bare with M^6. Over the next week or two, I'll show you how I go from nothing, to something, and all the steps in between. I thought very hard about doing the web method (connecting plot points and such) for this, but if it isn't broke...
I've know how I wanted this story to start, but not how I needed to get there. I found an out in Kurosawa (who makes mad films) based off a very tenuous connection while reading Questionable Content. One of the characters mentioned Toshiro Mifune, I had a flashback to watching 7 Samurai back in high school, and that small piece opened up so many opportunities in this story. Hopefully, you'll see the subtle influence completely removed from the direct reference.
Anyway, once that happened, everything sort of... fell into place. I started with this very basic scaffolding:
Summer - The Great Karate Debate - Toshiro Mifune - The Walk - The Stare - The Choice - The Fight - The Finger - The Lies - The Panic - Debate Redux - Minor First Aid - Home - Smartassery and Worry - Parental Reaction - Ambulance Ride - Taking Blame - Minor Surgery - Sleepless Night - Angry Morning Parents - Ranting - Total Cost of Finger Loss - Earning It Back - Babysitting Brother - A Monster in the Closet - A Production - Validity Through Success - New Ideas for Cash - Speculative Advance
Section headings that more or less defined direction. From there, I fill in the blanks a little bit at a time. To keep myself heading along the right path, I've also established benchmarks that may or may not act as chapter headings. And once I have those, I continue to fill in the blanks in ever increasing detail, trimming and adding as suits the narrative:
1 When I was 12, my sister cut my pinkie off with a meat cleaver. No, seriously, left pinkie, right below the knuckle. It just hung there by a thin strip of skin, dangling and squirting blood everywhere.
She didn't mean to, obviously. At least, I hope she didn't. It started out innocently enough.
-summer time, school is out. the weeks spent in the living room, creating a fort of cushions and blankets to the detriment of a clean house.
-Mom and dad taking little brother to karate for the first time late afternoon. Dad on his fake leg and big belly, mom with her giant butt and aloof smile. Why does he get to go to karate? We wanna go to karate! You never took us! We never had the money. Why? Because children are expensive and neither one of you had the decency to eat the other in the womb. Your father doesn't mean that. Yes he does. We'll look at classes while we're there. What? Why are you pouting. We want to learn something cool, like ninjitsu. I can't believe I'm related to you, I want to learn jujitsu. that's because you're a girl. That's because you're retarded. Hey, time limit here. You get whatever we find. Watch a movie, clean up, bring the fort down, it's been long enough. We'll be back in an hour or two.
-Kurosawa was big in our house. Anything with ninjas or samurai or kungfu, we knew it all. Well, we knew about it all, we'd beaten up on each other enough to know that we knew more than anyone else. Probably, maybe. TV flickered, swords clashed. Debate about swords over other weapons leading to a challenge. Wanna go to the store and sword fight? You already know the answer to that.
-Mom and dad owned a comic book store. Stocked with all sorts of fun collectibles. I grabbed a katana, she went for a straight razor but thought it unfair and grabbed the butcher knife instead. Movies lie. All the time. The sword fight, the blood not flowing, the pain then the blood actually squirting out and spraying the store.
Agreeing to or not to call 911 (they are agreeable on most things) based on fear and they don't want to get in trouble. Basic trauma - what dad had taught us. Rubber band and ice. Wait for them to get home.
-okay, first, how did you do this?
-we lied and told them we'd been cleaning up around the house, they believed us... 'doesn't look like you got very far' the place was still a disaster, 'I think the important thing is that we tried.'
-second, why? I wanted to be more like you? slap in the back of head. Dad, you are way too calm about this. Mom, why is dad not freaking out? Your father has seen worse. 0 Post coital bliss
He's telling this story to Pluto and company.
Summer evening coffee and two cents change - Late afternoon, the sun hanging heavy, falling slowly. Drawing shadows longer and longer as
the minutes ticked off. It had
been a warm day, cool breezes now blowing down the street trailing garbage in
its wake. Crumpled newspapers
danced and twirled, crushed cans rattled, empty bottles rolled and clinked,
bits of plastic rustled like leaves, all of the detritus of civilization sweeping
forward on the road. Sidewalks
carried few pedistrians. Midweek,
no one had anywhere important to be, the rush crowd had already filed past some
hours previous. The stragglers
were mostly kids, teenagers, nothing better to do than hang out, no rides,
mom’s probably too busy making dinner or something else suffeciently homely. Ragtag froup of skateboarders zipped
by, quiet, sullen, headphones in, something about the day just making everyone
depressed. At least it wasn’t
raining. Metal seat dug into my
back. Waitress stopped by to ask
if I needed a refill, I sent her away with a request for the bill and a polite
smile. Had too many already. She smiled back and walked off. It was always too bitter here, too hot,
scalded my tounge every time. I
hated the coffee here, but Marlin loved it, so I did my duty as a good brother
and came with her. Her mug sat
across from me, still full, gone cold, mocking, a promised remained as yet
unfulfilled. Clouds gathering on
the horizon, too warm to rain though, just another starless night. Every night since my sister was taken
from me a week ago had been. The
waitress came back, handed me the bill, I handed her a ten and she produced
change from somwhere in her apron.
A small wad of singles and a handful of change. Another reason I hated the coffee here,
too damned expensive. Another
plastic smile. I watch the coins
spill onto the table, a dull nickle spinning on its edge before clattering onto
its face, dying sunlight glinting off tiny polished bits. I stared, miserable, alone. Mom and dad remain in denial. For all intents and purposes, their
hope is justified. Marlin’s body
lies inert in a south county hospital bed, in a completely vegetative
state. Maybe she’ll pull out of
it, there’s been no physical damage to her body. Maybe she will be okay. I know she won’t though. I grabbed for the change, my hand coming back nearly empty,
holding only two cents. Fuck it,
the rest was tip. I rose, pocketed
the pennies and took the last sip of the horrible coffee. Sooner or later, I was going to get my
sister back. I was going to Hell
She's in hell because we used blood magic to keep the baddies away.
Eurydice and OrpheusSo, there you go. It's a start. Look for more soon.
"My happiness outweighs my hurt, and I keep coming back for more of both."
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