The Rider – Part 6

Hitchhiker1The next afternoon my brother called our parents from the Marine recruiter’s office. He was not emotional in the least; it was only a call to let them know that they were having some paperwork issues and he would be late for dinner. The printer in the recruiter’s office had been acting up and they were in the process of repairing it.
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Getting the milk for free?

Profits in the bagsI have been writing for just about as long as I can remember. There are millions of words out there that I’ve laid down, some public and some not. As I come into my late 30s I realized that I have never made a dime off the stuff that is bouncing around inside of my head. My wife has asked me over the last couple of years, jokingly, when I am going to publish a novel so we can retire and live off royalties. On the one hand, I am a bit of a dreamer, but on the other I am a realist. I am aware that the writing market is saturated with people who think that others want to hear what they think, maybe even NEED to hear what they think, and they’re willing to charge a fee for those thoughts

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The Rider – Part 4

Hitchhiker1My brother and I both knew what the Vietnam War had done to people, courtesy of the research papers we had completed earlier in the school year. My brother sympathized with the young men who had served; he could see how the things they’d seen and done would ruin their innocence and leave them broken. Me, I saw a set of young men different from the altruistic, self-sacrificing idealistics my brother saw. I saw the bloodlust and the joy they seemed to take in the carnage. We had engaged in countless discussions on the subject, and still weren’t ready to accept the fact that neither of us would budge an iota on our opinions. Regardless of how we felt about the other’s opinion, we had always ended with a few laughs and an “agree-to-disagree” mentality.
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The Rider – Part 2

Hitchhiker1My brother used to be a pretty happy guy. In all honesty, I was the angry one and my brother the calm, collected one. While growing up, he and I had been best friends. I knew so many people who had fought with their siblings but it was never like that with him and I. When news of his injury had reached us all back in the States, I’d been wracked with guilt for not being there with him when it happened.
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The Rider – Part 1

I’ve had this particular piece sitting on the WordPress servers for about a month now. My initial goal, although a bit lofty, was to actually finish it up a bit more. I think that I may have better luck breaking it up into different “chapters”, returning to it when I can. Feel free to comment with any thoughts on how it’s going so far. I’ve got two different directions that I’m thinking of taking it; unsure which one will win out right now.

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Hitchhiker1The lighter jack wouldn’t work. I wish I would have known that before I left the house. This was going to be a long drive already, but having no way to charge my phone would make it even longer. I had bought into the new digital music age hook, line and sinker. That was great as long as you had a battery for your player of choice. I guess I could dig into my dash and see if I had any actual CDs. It’d been awhile since I’d listened to any of my older, non-digital music.
Continue reading The Rider – Part 1