CREATIVE, Eduardo Soliz, Podcasting, PODCASTS, RANDOMIZER9.COM, self publishing, Super-Short Storytime, WORDS, Writing

Super-Short Storytime: “Reunion”

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Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, Dear Listeners!  I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the terrifically tiny tale that you are about to hear:

While it can be nice to run into someone that you’ve not seen in many years, there are times when you find out just why it was you lost touch.  One such meeting is the focus of this nonsensical narration that I call: “Reunion.”

“Are you Shawn Cook?” A timid voice asked.

Shawn turned around at the sound of his name, taking care not to upset the cup of coffee he held in one hand or strike any passers-by with the briefcase he carried in the other. The well-dressed businessman glanced over the source of the question with narrowed eyes.  Before him stood a small man with dark unkempt hair wearing a lab coat. He held what appeared to be a ray-gun from an old science-fiction movie in one hand. The small man peered back at Shawn from behind a pair of thick glasses.

“Richard? Richard Wave from Central High? Class of ‘98?” Shawn guessed.

“Yes.”

A crooked smile lit up Shawn’s face. “Wow! Long time no see, Tricky Dick!” Richard winced at the nickname and raised the ray-gun at Shawn, who continued his taunting. “Ooo, what are you going to do, disintegrate me?” He scoffed. Richard pulled the ray-run’s trigger.  A blue beam of energy shot from its end and struck Shawn in the stomach. The businessman yelled in pain as his body quickly began to freeze. Onlookers and passers-by panicked at the sight of Shawn’s body turning to ice, many running away screaming in terror. Within seconds, Shawn’s body was completely frozen.

“I always hated that name.” A frowning Richard said in a low voice. He lowered the freeze gun and placed it into a coat pocket. Content that the gun was secure, the small man leapt towards Shawn’s frozen body and shoved into it as hard as he could with his shoulder. The frozen body toppled over onto the sidewalk and shattered into countless pieces, casting the crowd into an even further panic.

Richard calmly pulled out a pad and a pen from his coat, ignoring the panicked screams that he had long become accustomed to hearing. He flipped to a familiar page with a list of names and let out a contented sigh before messily scribbling over the name “Shawn.”

The mad scientist read the next name on the list quietly to himself: “Meghan.” Richard closed his eyes and released a wistful sigh. A twisted smile then appeared on his face and he said aloud to no one in particular: “Oh, dearest Meghan. It’s been too long, or perhaps, not long enough! Hee-hee-hee!”

THE END.

If you don’t have anything nice to say to someone, Dear Listeners, don’t say anything at all, and if they happen to have a freeze gun, you might want to start running for your life.  This has been Super-Short Storytime.  Visit Eduardo Soliz dot com for more fantastically flashy fiction, and I hope it isn’t too long before we meet again, Dear Listeners!

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CREATIVE, Eduardo Soliz, Podcasting, PODCASTS, RANDOMIZER9.COM, self publishing, Super-Short Storytime, WORDS, Writing

Super-Short Storytime: “A Runaway Tale”

Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, dear listeners! I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the wonderfully weird words that you are about to hear:

Folks that dont work at home are often envious of those that do.  Creative people in particular are often told that they are, quote, very lucky, to work from home, but what most people dont realize is that doing so comes with challenges of its own. I call this brief book-writers battle: A Runaway Tale

The writer sat behind her computer, typing away while her latest novel-in-progress sat next to her keyboard.  Her novel, a one hundred and fifty page  book, dangled its stubby legs over the edge of her desk and lazily swung them back and forth.

“Just a few more paragraphs to go, and I’m done, right?”  The novel asked impatiently.

“Not quite.  You’ll be a first draft.”  The writer answered.

“Really?  What else is there to do?”  The novel asked, its curiosity now piqued.

“Let’s see,” the writer said, placing a hand under her chin to think for a moment.  “I have to fix grammar and spelling errors, make sure you don’t have any plot holes, fill them in if there are any, cut out any extra exposition that isn’t needed…” The writer started to explain before the novel interrupted her.

“Time out!  What’s this about cutting?”  The novel said, now clearly agitated.  “I think I’m just fine the way I am.”

“Mmm, no.”  The writer insisted.  “We have a ways to go before you’re done, so calm down and let’s get back to work.”

“You are NOT cutting anything out of me!”  The novel cried before jumping off the desk and landing on the floor in between the writer’s feet.

The writer awkwardly reached under her chair with both hands in an attempt to retrieve the novel.  “Darn it!  Get back here!”  She demanded.  The novel eluded her grasp and ran across the floor.  It looked back and forth, unsure of just where to go, but it was certain that it wanted to get as far away from its creator as it could.

“Will you just relax?” The frustrated writer said.  She stood up from her desk while the novel scurried to hide behind a couch.  The writer looked about the room briefly before yelling: “It’s part of the writing process!”

The writer heard rustling behind the couch.  She tiptoed up to it, being careful to make as little noise as possible.

From behind the couch, the novel nervously blurted out: “Don’t mind me!  I’ll just be here holding up the short leg of the couch!  You can forget about me, now!”  It pleaded.

“Oh no, I’m not going through that again.  Not after that one time you hid yourself under my other projects.” The writer replied.  She placed both hands on one of the couch’s armrests and shook it in order to frighten the novel.

“Stop that!  You’re going to make me sheet myself!” The frightened novel cried.

The writer stopped shaking the couch.  She crossed her arms across her chest, impatiently blew a few stray strands of hair from one eye and asked: “Just what is your problem?”

“I’m scared!  You’re going to cut me up into little pieces and scatter my pages to the four winds!  I’m perfect just the way I am!”  The novel insisted.

The author groaned to herself and thought for a moment.  She spoke again, but softened her tone in order to coax her wayward work from its hiding place.  “Look, you’re a rough draft, sweetie.  You’re raw and full of potential, but before we send you to the printer I have to trim you down, tone you up and make you pretty!  Every novel goes through this and you know what?  They all come out looking better in the end.  Trust me, when we’re done, everybody is going love you.”  She reassured.

“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound THAT bad…” The novel said thoughtfully.  “Okay, let’s do it!  Make me awesome!”  It cheerfully said before walking out from behind the couch to be picked up by the author.

Yeah, guess I better not tell it about the editor, the author thought to herself with a grin as he carried her now-relieved novel back to her desk.

THE END.

Given that my works are short in nature, I cant imagine it would be easy to have to chase down a few sheets of paper, Dear Listener.  This has been Super-Short Storytime!  Visit eduardosoliz.com for more stories and podcasts, and remember: Working from home is still working!

 

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Books, BUSINESS, CREATIVE, WORDS, Writing

Working My Way To the Top (of the page)

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Bottom, bottom, bottom…

I forget which short story collection I was working on and discussing with a friend, but he posed an interesting question as we were chatting:

Why is your name always at the bottom of your covers?  Shouldn’t it be on the top?

While I may not completely produce my own covers anymore (for the better, as you can likely tell) I do place the text atop the artwork.  The decision to de-emphasize myself was a conscious one and I did it for a very simple reason:

Nobody knows who I am.

It’s a harsh thing to admit, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less true. If I put “Eduardo Soliz” on the top of a cover, a potential reader might think that the book is about a guy with that name, or they might even think it’s in Spanish.  Either way, my name (right now, at least) is not a very big selling point.

Stephen King and James Patterson and those guys, yeah, they can put their names up top because people will recognize then as authors who’s work they enjoy so they’ll be more inclined to pick up a book with their name on top and buy it.

Someday, I’ll be ‘big enough’ to have the nerve to put my name at the top of the page, but until then, I’ll have to play second fiddle to the books themselves.

Then again, maybe that’s how it should be!

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