I walked down the tunnel, musing on what Mr. Parker had said. I had plots and stories churning through my mind. Some finished. A couple completed and polished to what I considered perfection. Where to send them? Which to send? There were so many choices. I wondered. Should I revisit the best and try to make them better? Or would that merely screw up a perfectly good story?
A brighter light ahead drew me to a man sitting at a desk in a small alcove niched into the side of the wall. He had a round, almost boxy face and sported a well trimmed white beard. The ancient lamp on his table cast a pool of light on sheets of paper. I wondered. Short story? Novel? Something inspired by his travels?
“Hello,” I said.
He looked up. “Ah. A traveler.”
“More like a searcher and a writer. At least of sorts.”
“You either are, or you aren’t. Do the stories scream to get out?”
“To the point it sometimes drives my wife nuts.”
“Mine too. All four of them. Well... except the last one. She understood.” He looked at me askance. “So you have stories?”
“Trying to decide if they’re good, Mr. Hemingway.”
“Try reading some good ones. Compare yours. How do they hold up?”
“I’ve read yours. At least most of them.”
“Don’t read mine. Read someone really good.”
That surprised me. “Yours aren’t good enough? I sort of liked them. Your novella, The Old Man and the Sea seemed to be well done.”
His eyes bored into me. “No. I mean read the best damn book you can lay your hands on.”
“All modern American literature comes from one book...” he paused.
“And that would be?”
Here’s the link to my web page: http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from The Storyman ….