~> From the desk of Bill Whittaker <~
Memo: 12-13-25
To: Gigi L. @ Piedmont Press
(316 words. 2-minute read)
Honestly, I did make some minor changes to a couple of paragraphs on the final chapter of that draft, but only because there was all of that extra time from failing to make the midnight deadline on Wednesday.
It will all be okay. Better in fact, because the changes unified the tense placement to correctly correspond with those in the previous chapter. I’m sure they will like it.
-Bill
>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<
Oh, wait… What was that again? Something about… Oh, yeah! First day of doing someone. No, …of doing something. I’ve already written all about that in college in my paper The Summer of Eighty-two. Third person narrative.
That’s right! I remember now. I’ve written that story so many times, I can write a new title for it and recycle it in a week. New characters, change of setting, always the same plot. Easy peasy!
>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<
Oh, and please add this to the end of Chapter 25: ~Fleeing Quartzite~
“Oh, and my shrink is tired of hearing this shit about Sylvia. She dumped me too. Wouldn’t even let me call her office. Blocked me! After three years of therapy. She’s even slapped a restraining order on me after I wrote that voyeuristic story about her in her apartment. It’s all fiction. I thought she understood.
“That’s when I got into WordStress. It’s a much cheaper way to bitch and still have nobody care about what I say. Why? Just because no one reads novels anymore. Just because I live like a hobo? It’s all too much like living in the real world, only there’s not always a handy neighborhood twelve-step program asking me to keep track of how many days it’s been.
“It’s been fucking sixty-eight and a half years. Enough already, who cares? Leave me alone. They can’t take any more from me since Quartzite! I was a pastor then, until I bumped my head. Then it was rehab. Always more rehab…
“Well, then, I can always cling to this diversion, this inside escape, my secret counter ruse. You see, I appear to be suffering from Alzheimer’s, or dementia, but I know it’s simply my ruse to continue with substance abuse. On the edge, constantly claiming to struggle with three unfinished chapters.
“There’s never enough time, just well-planned excuses, and a plethora of Evernote stories.”
~WW~
-dalton
12-13-25~8-23-26
(s/363/331)
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