"It kind of sounds like a job, Jerkass."
"Hmm, I'll have to think about it," she said, but I could tell by the huge smile on her face she had already accepted my offer.
She gathered up the kids and told them they had to leave because Uncle Archie needed his rest. She told me they would be by tomorrow to pick me up when I was discharged and take me to their place so I could heal up fully before I got back to work. I couldn't wait. I asked her if she could stop by Anderson's room next door and send my regards. She said she absolutely would.
Both of her kids each took one of her hands as they walked towards the door.
"Hey wait," I said. She turned to look at me. I rubbed my mustache and asked, "Did you do this to me?"
She laughed and said of course she did. Who else would have?
I smiled as they continued to the door. "Wait, one more thing. Sorry." They stopped and looked back. "Do you think your sister would have been proud of me for this?"
She told the kids to stay right there and she walked back to my bed and kissed me on the forehead. "I know my sister is proud of you."
afterword
Well, there you have it folks: My very first official foray into the wonderful world of fiction. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I know now why they say "You are your own worst critic." Honestly, this is probably my least favorite thing I've written. It's not the story or the characters, though. It's just the writing. You can tell it's my first book. I feel like with each new one I write, I get a little bit better. Granted, I'm not aiming for Cormac McCarthy levels of poetry here; I'm simply trying to tell a couple dick jokes and make a few people smile. That's all I ever really hoped to accomplish. So, with that said, I hope I succeeded. If not, try my next one. If not still, just give up on me, man. Ha!
Let's see. Where to start? I know! I will let you all in on a little secret. My main character here, Archie Lemons, not going to lie, but he is pretty much me. Yep, hope that doesn't ruin anything for you, but it's true. Just me. Me with a different name living in a completely fictional world. The only main difference is that elevators don't really bother me...and that's about it. Every other character in the book is completely made up, though. I sometimes have a little fun with the names of them, mostly basing them off of friends, but the characters themselves are wholly original. I don't know anyone like Elise. Or Max or Anderson. Enzite, however, is based off every short fella I've ever met with a little man complex. I swear to God, they're all the fucking same.
Funny story, involving my parents and a blockade of New York City police officers. My mom and dad were walking through a crowd in New York and came upon some commotion up the street. There were a lot of people gathered around and a wall of cops blocking the flow of foot traffic. Nothing major going on, just a temporary hold up. So, naturally, my mom is rather curious about the action and goes up to the line of cops and politely asks the officer what is going on. Of course, she chooses the guy standing several inches below the rest of the line, and surprise surprise, he gives my mom some smart ass answer and is rude to her. Well, my dad, never one to shy away from saying what is on his mind, goes up to my mom and says, "Come on, you never ask the shortest one!" and they walk away. Meanwhile, the officers in earshot smiled and Shortstack got pissed.
So, there ya go. That is who Enzite is modeled after. The short little thumbdick that was rude to my mom.
Enzite! Ugh! Don't be surprised if that fucker ends up in a ditch somewhere down the line.
Anyway, let me get back on track. I remember I used to love writing at an early age. Whenever my grade school's oral language festival came up, I always insisted on writing my own speech rather than doing some already-prepared garbage, and I always prided myself on writing the whole thing myself, with no help from, ya know, grown-ups, like some other people obviously did. I never won, but I got pretty far every time and I was proud of that. A nine year old up on stage making adults laugh with his very own sense of humor, I feel, is a pretty decent gift. So I went with it.
When high school rolled around I pretty much lost interest in just about everything and didn't give much thought to a career in writing. In college I took a few writing courses, a few journalism courses, but again, nothing really came of it.
Honestly, the thing that really got me back into it was Myspace, believe it or not. The greatest website ever created when it launched. A totally open forum where I could say whatever I wanted, write whatever I wanted, and people would actually listen and give me feedback. I remember posting bulletins almost daily. And they were never one or two sentence musings, either. They were always long and detailed stories, and I would always try to be as humorous and entertaining as possible, despite the subject matter. I actually began getting applauded for them. When I didn't post in a while, I would get emails asking me what the delay was. Asking why I'm dragging my feet. People telling me they miss me and my rants about whatever I happened to find stupid or irritating that day. It was an amazing feeling.
Then Myspace began to fizzle and around comes Facebook. The worst thing to ever happen to this country. I truly believe that. Nothing was the same anymore. I could no longer write long stories, just little paragraphs about what I was doing. Then, everyone was doing it and it was boring. People were posting that they were going to eat dinner now. Or that they really have to poop. Or they'd say what song they were listening to...every five minutes, and it fucking sucked. It still fucking sucks.
So, I let it go again. I would still write stuff, but it wouldn't be as funny and not as much effort would go into it and I really stopped caring. I tried to write stories but my heart just wasn't in them, and even if I finished something, I usually ended up hating it. I was afraid of failure, convinced nothing would ever come from it and proved it by hating everything I did, plain and simple. So I gave up.
Then, the weirdest thing happened. I bought myself an iPad and was suddenly motivated to start writing again. Once I saw all the cool writing apps and everything, I sat down and tried it out, again. My main inspiration, of course, was, and still is, my son McClane, the most amazing child I've ever met. We were told he had autism at a pretty early age so we knew we were in for rough roads ahead, and that's okay. Seeing him on a daily basis, so far behind in basic skills for a child his age...but seeing him overcome some seemingly trivial deed was just amazing. Words can't describe. He's the bravest person I've ever met, and I figured, if he could overcome all his life's obstacles and march forward every day, then why I can't I sit down and try to work past some unwarranted feeling of possible failure and do something I really, really wanted to do.
So I did. And here it is.
And I have to admit, I pretty much made it all up on the fly. Honestly. I started typing. And typing. I took elements of autism characteristics I learned from my son, added in a dose of Grant and created Archie Lemons. And yes, it really was the dumbest name I could think of. I figured, this guy has such a stream of shit luck, why would he not have a stupid name? So, he was born.
Everywhere I went, I would carry a little notebook and pencil with me. If I had an idea, I took out the notebook and jotted it down. Even while I was at work, I would walk around, nose buried in paper, writing. It's amazing how busy people think you are when you're writing something down. Managers leave you alone because they actually think you are working on something so difficult and important it requires notes.
And I guess that is kind of true. I was working on my escape from this mundane fucking job.
And I guess I succeeded. Suckas!
So, I hope you enjoyed this book. I really truly do. All I ever wanted to do was make people happy. Make them laugh, or even just smile. And with the amazing feedback I have gotten from friends, fans, family and total strangers, I think I may have succeeded there, too.
Thank you for buying this special edition copy of my first book. If you would like to hear more ramblings from me, pick up the next two special edition books in this series and I'll have some little anec
dotes (is that the correct word, Archie?) about the writing process and whatever else I feel the need to tell you.
Until then, my friends, be good to each other.
-Grant Fieldgrove
11/16/2012
Grant Fieldgrove lives in Bakersfield, CA
with his wife Julie, son McClane
and dog Lily.
This is his first novel.
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Archie Lemons will return in:
A TOUCH OF DANGER
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