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carolina-bleus · 4 years

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The Very First...Vignettes (Part II)- Carolina-Bleus

Part I

First Disagreement...First I Love You

“Who’s Mike?”

Michonne looked up to see Rick holding her tablet. “What?”

“Mike. A message from him popped up on your tablet as I was bringing it out here. The preview said ‘Michonne, I miss you and I want to see you.’ I’m trying real hard not to jump to conclusions but...”

Michonne wasn’t going to lie to Rick.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Rick nodded slowly. He had figured as much, but it was still a punch to the gut to have it confirmed. “How recent of an ex?”

“My most recent.”

“Does that make me the rebound?”

“What?! No! Mike and I were over long before you and I ever even met.”

“Who ended things? You or him?”

“He moved overseas and was gone for six months. Then he met someone new and—”

“So he ended it,” Rick interrupted.

“No, being gone six months weakened an already floundering relationship. Him meeting someone just sped up the inevitable.”

“Okay, if he found someone new and you’ve been over for months, why is he texting you now?”

He should be a detective with all of these questions. “Mike came back home and he wanted to meet and talk.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, Rick,” Michonne huffed. “Why don’t you text him back and see?”

“Why are you getting an attitude with me? I’m not the one texting an ex behind your back.”

“I’m not texting him behind your back!”

“How am I supposed to know that? I wouldn’t have even known he was texting you if I hadn’t asked me to grab your tablet.”

“Rick, you have the password to my tablet, just like I have the password to yours. If I was trying to keep this such a big secret, I wouldn’t have given you access to a device that’s linked to my phone and receives all of my messages!”

“First of all, you know I wouldn’t invade your privacy and go into your messages. Second, why didn’t you just tell me he was texting you?”

“This...” Michonne motioned between her and Rick “This right here is why I didn’t tell you. I knew it would cause problems where it really shouldn’t.”

“Well, that plan didn’t work out too well.” Rick started gathering his things.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”

“Are you serious right now?! You’re overacting without even knowing the whole story.”

“Don’t do that Michonne! Don’t diminish what I’m feeling. What if the roles were reversed and I was texting my ex-fiancée behind your back?”

“Rick, that is not even remotely the same and you know that. I was never engaged to Mike.”

“How would I know that since this is the first I’m even hearing about Mike’s existence? I thought we didn’t keep secrets, Michonne.”

“We don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Mike?”

“Because he’s in my past.”

“Is he? That text message says something different.”

Michonne shook her head as tears sprang to her eyes. “You are being really unfair right now. You’re building this whole scenario in your head without even letting my explain.”

“I just need to go get some air right now.”

“Are you coming back?” Michonne asked softly.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea tonight.” Rick bent down and placed a kiss on Michonne’s cheek. “I’m not angry with you. I’m just...”

“Just what?”

Afraid. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you later.”

***

If Michonne didn’t tell me about this guy, then she must still have some kind of feelings for him. Or is Michonne right and I’m overreacting? I mean if she was really trying to hide something, she wouldn’t have given me such easy access to her phone and tablet. But, still, why is he still texting her? And why is he telling her that he misses her and wants to see her? How long have they been in contact?

Rick sighed as thoughts ran rampant in his head. It had been a couple of hours since he’d left Michonne’s and he hadn’t thought about much else. His thoughts were going in circles at this point; the same questions coming up again and again with no answers. “I should have stayed and talked it out with her instead of acting like a jealous ass.”

Rick’s phone suddenly dinged with a notification. He picked it up and saw a message from Michonne. He was actually afraid to open in, not knowing what he’d find.

“Whatever she says, I deserve it.” Taking a calming breath, Rick opened the text and found screenshots of text messages between Michonne and Mike. His heart racing, Rick began to read.

“Mike, after six months of no communication and nearly a year of miscommunication before that, I thought I would never hear from you again. Honestly, I was completely okay with that prospect. But I realized that by not answering, I was allowing you to assign your own meaning to my silence...allowing you take it to mean more than it really does. I’m answering you now because I don’t want there to be any confusion or misunderstanding about where we stand and how I feel about you. I’m not angry anymore. I’m not hurt anymore. I’ve moved on with my life.

These past six months have shown me I can live without you. I can be happy without you. I can be me without you. I am better without you. I needed the distance, the separation, and the silence to gain clarity and see what we both should have a long time ago...we don’t work as anything more than friends. We were amazing friends and that’s what we should have remained. But because we had so much in common, we forced our connection beyond where it was meant to go and now we can never go back to what we were only meant to be...friends.

But this really isn’t about what you and I were, it’s about what me and someone else are becoming, what we could be. I’ve met an amazing man. We are so different in so many ways, but it works for us. I am happy with him. I can be myself with him. I am better with him. And, though he’s only been in my life a short while, I already can’t fathom not having him in it. This man and I are building something. It’s something honest and pure and fun and natural...something unforced. I can’t wait to see where it goes. But I before I can move forward with him and the future we’re building, I have to leave you and our relationship in the past where it belongs. I can’t and won’t risk what could be with my guy over what was never going to be with you.

Just as I did when you moved on, please respect me and my relationship enough to stop trying to contact me.

I wish you well.

Rick looked at the date and time the message was sent. It was morning after their first date.

She must have sent this after we met at the café that morning.

Rick began to read the text message after that. The one Mike sent today.

“Michonne, I miss you and I want to see you, but I understand why that can’t happen. I was hurt when I read your message. I couldn’t...or wouldn’t...accept what you were saying. I tried to explain it away as being anger, hurt, or revenge on your part. But now I know it was none of those things. It was simply the truth.

I saw you out one day last week. I was walking by this café downtown and I happened to look in and see you sitting at a booth. I took this as a sign that I should go in and talk to you and lay all my cards on the table. But then a man walked past me into the café and towards you. The expression on your face when you stood up to greet him left me devastated. I was devastated that you never looked at me like that during our entire relationship...with love shining in your eyes. I stood outside that café longer than I should, but I wanted to be sure your guy felt the same way (whether I wanted that assurance for you or myself, I don’t know). When he sat across from you, I knew. He looked at you like you were his entire world. I am ashamed, but man enough, to admit that I know I never looked at you that way. But I am happy that you have the love you’ve always deserved.

I’m sorry for not following your request to not contact you. I do respect you and your relationship. And I am in full support of both. You deserve all the happiness in the world and it looks like you have found that.

Michonne, I am truly sorry for hurting you. I hope that one day we can be friends again because I really do miss you as my friend.

Rick tossed his phone on the bed and closed his eyes. “I’m a fucking idiot.” His eyes popped open as he quickly sat up. “I gotta go see Michonne and apologize and hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face.”

***

Michonne let Rick into her apartment without a word.

The couple stared at each other, each gathering their thoughts and their courage before speaking.

“I’m sorry.” They said simultaneously.

“Michonne, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m the one in the wrong here. I should have trusted you...trusted us.”

“I should have never given you a reason to doubt me or us. I should have told you about Mike and the messages.”

“You see how well I reacted when you did tell me. So maybe you made the right call.”

“No, I didn’t. We made a vow to tell each other everything and I didn’t do that.”

Rick sighed. “But I didn’t tell you everything either.”

“What didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell you why I was so upset. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t angry. I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of losing you, of losing what we have.” Rick took Michonne’s hand and walked her over to sit on the couch.

“Michonne, these past six months with you have been the best of my life. They’ve almost felt too good to be true. Ever since our first date three months ago, I’ve been feeling like I’m in a dream. And every minute I’m afraid someone is going to wake me up and I’ll discover that none of this was real or you will suddenly realize you can do better and leave.”

“First of all, this is real, Rick. I’m real...we’re real. I’m in this and I don’t plan on going anywhere. Second, there is no one who is better for me than you.” Michonne caressed Rick’s face. “If this is going to work, you have to trust what we have.”

“I do trust what we have. This was about me not trusting myself and being afraid of what I was feeling...how soon I was feeling it. But after reading what you wrote to Mike about us, I’m not afraid anymore. I trust us and what we have, Michonne. And I trust you. I trust you with my life. I trust you with my heart. And I trust you with my love. I love you, Michonne. I have for a while now.”

Michonne’s face immediately broke into a joyous smile. “I love you, too, Rick.”

Rick kissed Michonne slowly before pulling away with a rueful laugh. “I waited so long to tell you that because I was so scared of what you would say. I’ve told you ‘I love you’ a thousand times over in my head...every time we met up and every time we parted and all the space in between. It feels good to finally say it out loud and even better to hear you say it back.”

“Well, you better love hearing it, because you’re going to hear it from me every day.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

Rick nodded and the couple sealed their promise with a kiss.

***

First Trip

Michonne snuggled deeper into Rick’s embrace with a contented sigh.

“I’m so glad we decided to come here.”

Rick leaned forward and kissed Michonne’s bare shoulder. “Me, too. But you sure you’re not missing the beach?”

“Not at all. The beach would have been way too crowded. It’s so beautiful and peaceful here. This is exactly what I needed...along with you.”

Michonne’s private law practice had grown immensely in the past six months with new clients and personnel. On the one hand, she was ecstatic but, on the other hand, she was exhausted. She hadn’t taken a real vacation in the near year she and Rick had been dating. Beyond day trips on the weekend to special events or to visit family and friends, Michonne hadn’t felt comfortable being away from her firm for an extended period of time. She knew the first year was crucial to the success of any business. But now that she had successfully made it to year two with no signs of slowing down, Rick knew it was time for Michonne to take a break and time some time for herself. So he surprised her with a trip to the mountains as an early one-year anniversary present.

“I still can’t believe you were in cahoots with Rachel and Tonya planning all of this.”

Rick worked with Michonne’s assistant and law associate to make sure her vacation leave was secured with the courts and that her calendar was clear of all obligations for an entire week.

“I knew I couldn’t leave any detail undone if I wanted you to actually relax on this trip.”

“You know me well. And you did such a great job planning everything, that I’m leaving all of our future vacation planning up to you. You’re pretty damn good at it. I’d even let you plan our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon? So you want to get married?” Rick asked slowly.

“Well...yeah eventually.” Michonne turned her head towards Rick. “Don’t you?”

“Do I? Babe, I knew you were it for me you before our first date was over.”

Michonne smiled in relief. “Oh really? It took you that long? I knew when we walked up the museum steps hand-in-hand. Our kiss the next day just confirmed it,” she joked.

Rick chuckled. “The kiss sealed the deal, huh?”

“Yep. That and your kindness, thoughtfulness, sincerity, and your humility. Of course, that accent and those bowed legs of yours didn’t hurt either.”

“Well, for me it was your confidence, your warmth, your intellect, and your heart. Throw in that smile and those eyes and I never stood a chance.” Rick grew serious as he looked into Michonne’s eyes. “I love you, Michonne.”

“I love you, too, Rick.”

“It’s hard to fathom that 18 months we had never even spoken a word to each other and now I can’t bear to go a day without hearing your voice or seeing your face. Having you in my life these past 15 months has taught me so much about life, about love, and about myself. The better I got to know you, the better I got to know myself. And after a year together, there are four things I know with absolute certainty.”

Michonne sat up and turned fully towards Rick. “What are they?”

“I know that I’m happy with you. I know that I can be myself with you. I know that I am better with you.”

Michonne’s eyes glistened with tears as Rick recited the words she’d written about him nearly a year ago.

“Most of all, I know that I can’t live without you. Michonne...will you marry me?”

Tears spilled down her face and Michonne nodded, unable to find her voice.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! I love you so much, Rick.”

“I love you, too.”

The couple celebrated with a sweet kiss. Michonne straddled her fiancé’s lap as the kiss grew longer and more heated.

Rick suddenly pulled back as he remembered something.

“Your ring! It’s in my suitcase.”

“Wait, you were already planning on proposing?”

“Yeah...and not while we were naked in a bathtub.”

Michonne chuckled. “I’m glad it happened like this...with just the two of us. Besides, some of my favorite moments involve us being naked,” she said saucily. “And this moment has definitely topped the list.”

“I’m glad it was just the two of us as well, but what do we tell everyone when we get back...or our kids when they ask how I proposed to you one day?”

Michonne thought a moment. “We’ll tell them that you proposed while we were by the water.” She smiled at a sudden thought. “You’re already thinking about our future children?”

“Yep. I’m thinking two...no three boys and one girl.”

“Four kids? Using whose vagina?”

Rick slid his hand between Michonne’s thighs. “Mine right here.”

“Sorry, this one’s mine,” Michonne said, breathless.

“You sure about that? Cause I distinctly remember you saying it was mine last night...and this morning...and about thirty minutes ago.”

“Sorry, I don’t recall. I think you’ll have to refresh my memory.”

“Challenge accepted, Mrs. Grimes.”

“I’m not Mrs. Grimes yet.”

“Not on paper, but in my heart you’re already Michonne Grimes.”

“Michonne Grimes. I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” Rick gave Michonne one more lingering kiss. “Now, let’s get out this tub and back into our bed. We have some celebratin’ to do and I got to refresh that memory of yours.”

***

Four hours later, the couple was seated in the restaurant Rick had chosen for the evening. The couple was enjoying the mountain views through the restaurant’s floor to ceiling windows.

“Rick, this place is amazing...the view, the food, and most especially the company.”

“You can thank Mama for the suggestion.”

“Oh, your parents have been here before?”

“Yes. They come here every year to celebrate their anniversary. Mama thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Well, Suzanne was right. I can’t imagine a better place to celebrate our anniversary and our engagement.” Michonne shook her head with a sigh. “I still can’t believe we’re engaged.”

“It’ll be more real once you have your ring.”

As the couple had gotten ready for the evening, Rick informed his fiancée that, in his excitement and nervousness, he’d accidentally forgot to pack her engagement ring. Michonne assured him that was okay and she’d have something to look forward to when they returned home the next day.

“I told you not to worry about that. The proposal was perfect because of what you said, not what you gave me. I honestly just want to relive the moment over and over again.”

“How about reliving it one more time?”

“What?”

Rick stood up from the table and walked to Michonne’s side. Seemingly out of nowhere, a violinist appeared and began to play Michonne’s favorite classical piece. Rick got down on one knew before Michonne and opened a small box containing a beautiful diamond solitaire housed in an intricate antique setting.

“Is that my ring? I thought...” Michonne shook her head confused. “Rick, what are you doing?”

“I’m asking you again...because I can never hear you say yes too many times. And because you deserve the whole proposal experience.”

Rick blew out a breath, suddenly nervous. “Michonne, you are my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. You are the very best part of my life. There is no me without you and no me without us. Michonne Richardson, will you grant me the honor and privilege of becoming my wife?”

Eyes full of tears and heart full of emotion as if it were the first time, Michonne nodded and said, “Yes.”

The violinist began playing the “Wedding March” and the restaurant patrons broke into cheers and applause as Rick took Michonne’s left hand and slid the solitaire on her finger.

***

First Dance

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Rick and Michonne Grimes to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife.”

With Rick’s right hand on Michonne’s back and her left hand on his shoulder, the newlyweds clasped their other hands together in a traditional dance hold. The couple swayed to their song as it began to play while their family and friends looked on.

“This is the one part I’ve been dreading.” Michonne looked up at her husband. “We really should have skipped this whole ‘first dance’ thing.”

“Why?”

“It’s so awkward being the only ones dancing. People are staring at us like we’re on display.”

Rick laughed and pulled his tense wife closer. “We kind of are, babe. I told you we should have gone with a line dance as our first dance. That way everyone could have joined in from the beginning.”

“You just want to do a dance that shows off those cowboy boots of yours.”

Rick glanced down at the shiny black boots. “They are nice, aren’t they? A very smart, beautiful, and considerate woman left them for me this morning.”

“What a coincidence. A smart, handsome, and thoughtful man had a beautiful set of birthstone jewelry sent over to me this morning.”

Rick had found the boots gift wrapped and waiting for him in the groom’s suite. While Rick’s mother, Suzanne, had delivered Michonne’s heart shaped amethyst and diamond necklace and matching bracelet and earrings.

“Thank you, babe. I love them.”

“You’re welcome. You wouldn’t be you without some cowboy boots.”

Rick twirled his wife away before pulling her back into his arms.

“And thank you for the jewelry. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re absolutely welcome. But you know how you can really thank me?”

“How?”

Rick leaned down to whispered, “Leave the necklace on after you take everything else off tonight.”

“Richard Grimes. Are you getting fresh with me?”

“I certainly am, Mrs. Grimes.”

“Good, keep it up.”

Michonne paused as Rick dipped her. When he pulled her back up, the couple abandoned the traditional dance hold altogether as Rick wrapped his arms around Michonne’s waist and hers went around his neck.

“Now, are you going to wear just your cowboy boots tonight?”

“Hey, if you’re into it, I’m game. Though I won’t be able to leave them on too long. There are some positions where I’ll have better balance on my bare feet.”

“Rick, how many positions are you planning on us trying tonight?”

“As many as possible. I’ve been doing some research on the internet.”

“I hope you didn’t use my computer.”

“No, I used Shane’s. He already had most of the sites I needed saved on his favorites tab.”

The couple shared a laugh before a content Michonne laid her head on Rick’s shoulder. The music washed over her as she lost herself in the warmth and security of her husband’s embrace.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for Rick and Michonne!! Now everyone make your way to the floor and join the happy couple.”

Michonne pulled back, confused. “Wait? Our dance is over already?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like it just started. I spent all this time dreading it and it flew by.”

Rick smiled at his wife. “I think we just learned our first lesson as a married couple.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“We can make it through anything when we don’t lose focus on the most important thing...each other.”

Michonne nodded in agreement. “Look at you. We’ve been married less than four hours and you have already turned into a philosopher.”

“What can I say? I guess being married to you brings out the best in me.” Rick gave his wife a quick kiss before letting out a low whistle. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today? You always look amazing, but today you are just on another level.”

“What can I say? I guess being married to you agrees with me.”

Michonne settled back into Rick’s arms and the newlyweds danced the night away.

@richonnefics

#richonnefirsts #Richonne

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sugarcoated-pain · 5 years

Text

Heavy Rotation Part 7

Thanks for all the awesome feedback I’ve been receiving about this series! I love hearing your thoughts. Thanks again to @sublimehood . you know what you did. lol

This is the second to last part of this series, and I’m totally going to miss writing it! And I’m also gonna go ahead and apologize in advance for this part...

Best Friends to Lovers- original character + Ashton

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Waking up with naked Ashton sleeping in my bed with his arms wrapped around me is without a doubt the best way I’ve ever woken up. What happened last night was absolutely magical, and I decide to bask in it instead of overthink things, like I always do. I watch him breathing for a moment, and something hits me, hard. I’m in love with him. Madly. Way more than I ever thought possible. And maybe I always have been. Georgia knew the truth months ago, why did it take me this long to admit it to myself? I absentmindedly run my fingers gently over the bare skin on his back. That gloriously toned, beautiful back. Everything about him is complete perfection to me.

He begins to stir softly, and opens his eyes, smiling once he notices me watching him.

“Morning.” I say, smiling back at him.

“Good morning, beautiful.” he says, in the most deliciously raspy morning voice I have ever heard. “What time is it?”

“Almost 10.” I answer, continuing to run my fingertips softly over his skin.

“Ugh. I should head down to work now.” he groans frustratedly, pulling me closer to him. “But I wish I could stay here all day..”

“Me too.” I whisper, kissing him tenderly on the lips. He places his hand on my cheek and kisses me back sweetly, just before he sits up and begins hunting for his clothes. I can’t take my eyes off his gorgeous body as he moves through my bedroom. Once he’s done, he sits down on the side of my bed, and leans down to give me another soft kiss.

“So, later, can we talk about last night?” he says with a small grin as he pulls away.

“Yeah, I think we can handle that...”

“Maybe, over dinner?” he asks, locking his eyes with mine, probably waiting to see if I overthink things and spaz out again.

“I’d like that.” I reply, kissing him again. He kisses me back for a few moments, before getting up and heading out of my room. I lay in bed for a while, allowing myself to relive last night’s events, and I can’t help but smile from ear to ear. I resolve to tell Ashton how I really feel tonight, now that I’m aware of it myself. My plane ticket to New York is for early tomorrow morning so today is the day I need to give Ray my answer by. It all feels clear now. Ashton is worth staying here for.

I eventually get up and get dressed. Knowing Ashton has already left for work by now, I leave my bedroom and find the person I’m looking for in the kitchen.

“GEORGIA!” I shout playfully. “My room, NOW!.. Please.” I say forcefully, grabbing her arm and dragging her down the hall.

“How was YOUR night?” she asks, with a knowing grin.

“Literally the most amazing night of my entire life.”

“We noticed Ashton didn’t sleep in his room last night….”

“Yep, that’s because he slept in here, after we had the best sex in the history of great sex.”

“FINALLY! Does that mean you two idiots finally talked about how you REALLY feel about each other?”

“Well, no. BUT… I decided I’m gonna tell him the truth about how I feel tonight.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you feel?”

I sigh defeatedly, feeling her “i told you so” grin without even looking at her. “You were right. You’ve always been right. I’m in love with him.”

Instead of rubbing it in my face that she was write, she simply smiles. “I’m SO happy for you. This is a big step. And now the four of us can do all kinds of great couple-y stuff!”

“Georgia, the four of us already do couple-y stuff, all the time.” I reply with a laugh.

“Well yeah but now it can be official.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves… I don’t know that he feels the same way about me…”

“Oh shut up, you know he does. He’s been crazy about you since day one.”

This makes me blush and grin sheepishly. “Today is the day I have to give Ray an answer by. I’m gonna stay here. “

Georgia squeals excitedly and hugs me. “You made me a little nervous there after you emailed him.”

“I can’t leave now. Not after last night. I have to give this thing with Ash a chance to see where it goes.”

I’m working the closing shift in the store today, but I have never been more distracted in my entire life. I sneak into the studio as often as I can get away with, but instead of it being to learn the machinery, now it’s to try to sneak a kiss whenever Ash is alone and not busy.

Halfway through my shift however, my day takes the worst possible turn. Camille strolls through the front door and heads straight back for the recording studio.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask her angrily, blocking her way to the studio.

“It’s none of your damn business.”

“You’d be surprised how much it actually IS my business.”

She scoffs at me and walks around where I’m standing and pushes right through the curtains to the studio. I’m fuming right now. How dare this bitch come in here like nothing ever happened? I have genuinely never loathed someone as much as I loathe this girl. She’s back there for a long while. I am now completely distracted and can’t focus on anything at all. Eventually she walks out, giving me a smug look as she walks past me. A few minutes later though, Ashton comes through the curtain as well. He looks drained and stressed out. Approaching me, he looks extremely unhappy.

“Hey Em. I’m gonna need a rain check on dinner…”

“What? Why? Because of her??”

“I need to deal with this. She’s never going to stop unless I hear her out.”

“What the hell, Ashton? Are you kidding me right now? Did you forget what she did to you? You don’t owe her a damn thing.”

“We were together for two years.. I kinda do. I’m sorry.”

I feel as if the floor has fallen out from below my feet. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Tears start to well up in my eyes, and I can’t give Ashton the satisfaction of knowing what kind of an effect he has on me.

“Fine. Whatever.” and I walk away and pretend to busy myself with work.

I hear him sigh, and then slowly walk away. Once I hear the bell at the front chime, meaning he is out the door to follow Camille, I let the tears fall. After everything that happened, how could he even consider meeting up with her to “talk”? I feel sick inside. I feel betrayed. I don’t even know how to process what I’m feeling right now.

I take a deep breath and wipe my face and walk over to the register where Mikey has been working. I try to pull myself together but I’m sure I still look like a complete mess. “Hey Mike. Is there anyway you can close for me tonight, please? It would mean a lot to me.”

Noticing my condition, and clearly not wanting to deal with a crying chick right now, “Sure no problem.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.” I say quickly and then head upstairs. As soon as I’m through the front door, the tears flow freely. I can’t believe I let myself think there was a chance of a any kind of future with Ashton.

I call Georgia. “Hey Em, whats up?.” She hears me sobbing before I can get any words out. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

“That bitch came back. And he’s giving her a fucking chance. He left with her to ‘hear her out’. I can’t even fucking believe it. I don’t know what to do, G.”

I hear her cover the phone for a second and talk to someone in the background.

“I’ll be there in 30 minutes, okay? Don’t do anything stupid before I get there.”

She hangs up the phone, and I head into my bedroom. I start to calm down a little, and start pacing my room. And the answer clicks in my brain. Regaining my composure, I pull my phone back out and dial Ray.

“Hey Ray, it’s Emma. I thought more about your offer and if it still stands, I’d like to take the job in New York City.”

“Of course it still stands! Glad to have you on board. I’ll email you the flight information. It leaves early tomorrow, does that still work for you?”

“Yeah, that works great. Thank you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hang up the phone and look around my room at my few belongings. I pull my suitcase out from the closet and begin shoving everything I can in it. After a while, I decide that there are other things I need to take care of and packing can wait. I head down to Liz’s office to sit down with her. I apologize for not giving a proper two weeks, and explain to her that this is what is best for me. She isn’t happy about it but realizes there isn’t really anything she can do to stop me. I find the other guys and start saying my goodbyes. Eventually, I head back upstairs to finish packing.

Georgia walks into my room without knocking, and then looks around the room, a confused yet panicked look crossing her face.

“Remember when I said not to do anything stupid? THIS is what I was referring to.” She says and she walks in and examines my suitcase.

“I took the job, G. I had to. I can’t stay here. He was the main reason I was staying but I can’t play these back and forth games. If I ever see Camille again as long as I live, I will probably spontaneously combust. I can’t do it. And since she’s clearly still in the picture, I need to find a way to get over Ashton. This is my best chance at that.”

“Emma, come on. Please see reason. This is crazy. You don’t even know if they’re back together or not.”

“It doesn’t matter. He cancelled our dinner plans to leave with HER. I can’t handle those kind of games. I know it’s sudden but I think this opportunity came to me for a reason. I’m sorry, Georgia. I will miss you so much. But I just can’t stay here any longer.”

“You’re being so dramatic right now. Just talk to Ash. I bet this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

“Okay sure, I’ll talk to Ashton. Where is he? OH WAIT! He’s STILL with Camille right now. How long does it take to tell someone you don’t want anything to do with them? This should have been a quick convo but he’s not here and I bet he doesn’t come home tonight at all. I can’t deal with that, Georgia. I can’t. It hurts too much. I have to go.”

She sighs sadly. “Alright. I see there’s no changing your mind. I think you should at least hear what he has to say about it all when he gets home.”

We decide to have one last girls night and watch a chick flick over a bottle of wine. The movie ends, and Ashton still isn’t home. I can tell that Georgia is tired but she’s staying awake so she doesn’t leave me all alone. There’s one last thing I need to do before I leave, so I let her off the hook to go to bed, promising her I’ll say bye in the morning before my flight.

I head up to the roof with my lyric journal, and I just let it all pour out. The words, the tears, everything. I’m unsure if I will get a chance to say goodbye to Ashton face to face, or if I would even be physically capable of it. So I write everything I want to say to him in a letter. My tears fall onto the paper and leave little marks. And in that moment, I start to question if I’m really doing the right thing. Could I stay here even if there wasn’t a future for Ashton and I? I decide the answer is no and convince myself moving back east is the only way to move on.

I’m going to miss this view almost as much as all the people I’m leaving behind.

After several hours, I eventually make my way back down the fire escape to my room. I get ready for bed, look around with a sigh at all my stuff packed up, and just as I turn out the light, I hear a slow and erratic, clearly drunken, knock at my door. I open it as Ashton stumbles in, almost knocking me over.

“Well hi there.” I laugh as I attempt to help him stand upright, to no avail.

“I.. I had a..a real bad day. Need my Emma.” his words slur together as he continues to make his way into the room.

“YOUR Emma, eh?” I ask with a small smirk, trying to keep him steady.

“Yes. You’re MY Emma. You’re my best friend AND we’ve had sex now so you’re MY Emma.” he answers defiantly as he plops down on my bed.

“Had a few drinks, have ya?”

“I’m drunk as fuck and I just want to cuddle with you.”

I sigh and follow him over to the bed. Could he have picked a worse time to pull this shit? “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Ash…”

“Just come cuddle with me. please. ” he demands groggily, pulling at my arm.

I’m definitely not winning this one, so against my better judgement, I of course curl up next to him. He instantly lays his head on my chest and drapes his arm over my stomach, which causes said stomach to feel as if it’s dropped through the floor and my heart to beat uncontrollably like it’s trying to escape from my chest. How the hell am I ever going to get over this guy?

“I’m sorry. I just had a really bad day and I need you.” he slurs sleepily.

“It’s okay, Ash.” I reply gently, sighing and softly running my fingers through his tangled curls. “I do need to talk to you though…”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” He’s definitely starting to drift off.

“Ash. Are you listening to me? This is important.” I ask quietly.

“Mmm-hmm.” he nods slowly. I tilt my head to see that his eyes are closed. Maybe it’ll be easier this way.

“Ashton. I’m leaving. In a few hours actually. I took that job offer in New York, and I fly out first thing in the morning..” I start slowly, watching to see if he’s listening. He groans incoherently. “I wasn’t going to take the job.. I love my life here but..the truth is… I’m in love with you. I have been since the day I met you.” tears start falling gently down my cheeks and I pull him closer to me. “..But I know now that you don’t feel the same way. And I just can’t sit here pining over you and watch you go back to Camille again and again. So this job offer felt like the best opportunity to not have to suffer through all that. I wrote this all in a letter that you’ll see tomorrow..”

I’m almost sobbing at this point but he is definitely asleep, so I wipe my cheeks with my hand and keep rambling. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much though. My chest burns like no pain I’ve ever felt when I think about leaving you. I will miss you every day, probably for the rest of my life. But I know this is what’s best for me. It’ll be the easiest way to move on and try to get over you.” I finish with a deep sigh, and kiss his forehead softly. Leaning over carefully, I grab my cell phone from my nightstand to check the time. I need to leave for the airport in just three hours. I set my alarm, put my phone back, then wrap both of my arms tightly around Ashton, and allow myself to doze off, holding him close to me.

Part Eight

Taglist: @cheyenne-in-wonderland @drummerboy794 @harrysgucciclothes @emmamarshmellow @rbforsmileycal @asht0ns-world @dukesnumber1 @aspiringwildfire @lockthisheartinchains @post-traumatic-mess

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list!

#5sos #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford

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ineffectiveinsight · 4 years

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Heisenberg: The Evolution of Walter White

With the recent release of El Camino: A Breaking Bad movie produced by Netflix, I decided to watch the entire series of the original Breaking Bad again. I had previously watched Breaking Bad during 2013 as the last season was airing. During that time, Breaking Bad received a lot of hype for its characters and storytelling and was revered as the best show on television. Boy, did it live up to the hype. Being in high school at the time, I was captivated by the story of Walter White and his evolution from season 1 to season 5. However, being so young I was not capable of fully grasping the intensity of certain situations as well as Walter’s reasoning for his actions. After watching the series for a second time with more life experiences under my belt, I see this series from a new perspective and would like to share with you my analysis.

Let’s begin.

The series starts by introducing the audience to an average, middle class man named Walter White. Walter has just turned 50 years old, has a stable job as a high school chemistry teacher and has a lovely wife, Skyler, and son, Walter Jr. Walter is well respected by his colleagues and his family loves him dearly. Sounds like this is everything a 50 year old male could ask for, right? As the series progresses, we learn that Walter is far from happy, in fact, he is ashamed of his life. Being a genius in chemistry and co-founding a successful company, Walter had a bigger vision for his life but was never able to attain it. He always let a certain situation or a particular person choose his destiny for him. So despite having everything a 50 year old could ask for, Walter always felt underachieved and underappreciated. He did not have control over his life. So when Walter was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, we expected him to give up and fold to the situation. Think again.

Walter White makes the transition into Heisenberg once he is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. Most patients would collapse at the news of hearing they have cancer with only a few months to live. Suddenly, everything precious rushes through their minds; their wife, children, extended family, friends, colleagues and so on. The pain of losing all these people who are so dear to your heart is almost unbearable. But what if you are someone who has nothing to lose? What if you are someone who doesn’t enjoy their life at all? How would you then react to receiving such bad news, like terminal cancer? The answer is simple. Freedom. You will feel complete freedom because now there is an escape from the hell you’ve been living. This is exactly how Walter felt upon receiving his diagnoses. The lung cancer was the spark, the ignition, the switch that enabled Walter to transform into Heisenberg. This is evident as Walter’s attitude completely shifts, to the point where he surprises Skyler in bed with his dominance. After hearing he only has months to live, Walter realizes that he must provide for his family before his inevitable departure. However, if he continues on his current path he will never amount to anything significant. And so, after seeing the amount of money drug dealers make when Walter goes on a raid with his brother in law, Hank, Walter decides to take that next step. Thus, he shaves his head and Heisenberg is born.

As soon as Walter gets into the drug business things go haywire. His partner, Jesse, brings over some Mexican drug dealers to help with distributing their product. However, there is a misunderstanding and the situation quickly escalates out of control. Fast forward and one of the drug dealers, Emilio, is tied up in Jesse’s basement and its Walter’s responsibility to clean up the mess. Walter tries to reason with Emilio to find any reason to release him unharmed. However, the circumstances didn’t allow for this to happen and Walter is forced to make his first kill. This is the moment Prime Heisenberg is born. By killing Emilio in cold blood, Walter takes his first step into the descent of chaos and madness. He learns what it takes to truly succeed in this business. As their operations continue, Walter and Jesse encounter many horrible situations; murder, psychopaths, gang violence and near death experiences. Somehow, Walter always finds a way to escape and come out on top. Their hard work pays off when Walter and Jesse team up with Gus Fring. Gus is the owner of Los Pollos Hermanos, a fast food restaurant used as a front to sell drugs and launder money. Gus provides Walter and Jesse their own state of the art laboratory designed specifically for cooking meth. Having the best equipment and set schedules for cooking, everyone was making great money each week. However, the greed of man can only be quiet for so long. Hence the saying, all good things must come to an end.

“We had a good thing, you stupid son of a bitch! We had Fring, we had a lab, we had everything we needed, and it all ran like clockwork! You could have shut your mouth, cooked, and made as much money as you ever needed! It was perfect! But no! You just had to blow it up! You, and your pride and your ego! You just had to be the man! If you'd done your job, known your place, we'd all be fine right now!” As Mike screams before Walter fatally shoots him. While operating under Gus, Walter was not satisfied because he did not have control over the situation. Walter always viewed Gus as a potential threat due to his demeanor and cold blooded nature. In addition, Walter did not appreciate that Gus wanted to replace him with his own cook, Gail Boetticher, and eventually Jesse. With Gus being a constant looming presence over Walter’s head, Walter decides he must take control over the situation as soon as possible. Through deceit, manipulation and lies Walter is able to turn people against Gus and eventually succeeds in finishing him off. Now Walter sits on throne by replacing Gus as the kingpin of meth distribution in the Southwest. He is now the danger, the one who knocks. Empire Heisenberg is born. This version of Walter White is the most merciless and most dangerous of all forms. With his cancer in remission, there was nothing that could stop Walter. No one and nothing is off limits for Walter to maintain his position and empire. This is proven by Walter’s actions of threatening Jesse, killing Mike, arranging an 11 man hit in prison, poisoning a young child and being indirectly responsible of Hank’s death. It’s during this period that Walter gains the most money, but loses everything.

After his family finds out the truth, Walter has officially lost everything he held dear to him. His job, his home, his children, his wife and his family are merely memories from the past. He can no longer return to the life he once lived. Being the most wanted criminal in America, Walter is forced to change his identity and start anew. However, is that even possible? After all the mayhem, chaos and destruction Walter has created, was it possible to have a fresh start? Maybe there was a way, but Walter saw no point in doing so, especially since his cancer returned. With everyone and everything gone, Walter was a ticking time bomb simply waiting to explode. Knowing his last moments were upon him, Walter decides to do one final act of justice, save Jesse. Although Jesse and Walter had a falling out near the end, Walter always considered Jesse as a second son. Not only was there a significant age difference between the two but Jesse was the only person who accepted Walter’s true self. With everyone else Walter had to wear a mask and disguise his true intentions, but he was free around Jesse. And so, using his final moments, Walter saves Jesse from captivity. The series ends with the camera slowly panning away with Walter White smiling as he slowly dies on the concrete floor. He finally reached the end of the line, the endgame.

Vince Gilligan, creator of Breaking Bad, intended to transform a chipping dale average man into a merciless monstrous villain. I say he did so, beautifully. Breaking Bad demonstrates how miserable life can be if we do not take control over our lives. It is important that we make decisions for ourselves and do not let others decide for us. We owe it to ourselves to take a step forward and be in charge of our lives, for only then will we find true happiness and self-worth. If we do not, we are simply bottling emotions and dreams within and it’s only a matter of time before they resurface in a chaotic fashion. So we must be vigilant to not let these emotions sit for a long time. There is a Heisenberg in all of us, waiting patiently for the right moment to takeover.

Tread lightly.

#breaking bad #heisenberg #walter white #jesse pinkman #vince gilligan #villain #treadlightly

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sarahaltmanposts · 5 years

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A dry spell...

September 3, 2019

It has been a long dry spell. Very, very long.

I’m not talking about sex, although that has suffered a bit since the cancer thing. But I’ll save that for another blog.

I’m talking about money.

Why is money not flowing?

It seems my husband and I have been stuck in a rut of financial lack and I am doing everything in my power to understand why so that we can move through this and on to the financial prosperity that I KNOW awaits us.

But there’s definitely a block present. Must be. Why else would we be so challenged for so long?

I’ve been digging deep on this for a while; trying to get to the source of what the opportunities are for us. Because Mike and I are a team, this could be a lesson for us as a couple. Or maybe it’s our own individual limiting or irrational beliefs we hold around money. Either way, I am deeply committed to understanding this issue in service to accepting and receiving financial prosperity.

I get a visual. It’s a picture of me on one side and money on the other and we’re divided by a wall. And the wall is made of fear.

I think back to three years ago, when we were enjoying a time of financial prosperity for the first time since having kids. I had a wonderful time indulging myself. I was able to go grocery shopping without keeping a mental tab on our budget. When the boys needed socks or underwear, I didn’t have to hesitate before jumping on to Amazon. And when I wanted to grab them a sandwich from Subway, or a Starbucks for no special occasion, I did it! So no extravagant vacations or luxurious extras; this is how I indulged. Such a feeling of freedom. It was fantastic!

And then I got cancer.

So I wonder… Have I paired financial prosperity with getting cancer? Is there a belief present that I can’t have everything? That I’m unworthy of living a life of happiness? That I should never get too comfortable because just when I think everything is going well, the other shoe will drop and something horrible will happen? I feel the energy rising and tears begin to flow- a sure sign I’m on to something.

I let that sit with me for a couple of days as I contemplate these misunderstandings and misinterpretations. And then another thought comes forward. Maybe there’s something else at play here as well. I have a sense of what it is and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

Let me back up. Over the last several months, I’ve been experiencing our financial situation in many ways.

First there’s panic. An immediate, guttural fear that my family’s safety and security are in jeopardy. My history has shown that making choices from a place of fear never works out. That didn’t stop me though. I went into crisis mode, looking for any kind of work I could get.

Let me back up even further.

Many years ago, my husband and I agreed that I would stay home with the boys, making him the primary bread winner. We didn’t come to this decision easily. But ultimately, it was right for our family, fulfilling my lifelong dream to be a mom. And while I do generate some money from home, it’s meant to supplement my husband’s income. Yes, I know this is a privilege that many women don’t have. I understand the gift…and the consequences.

So when I found myself in panic mode, my first reaction was to jump in and take care of things by myself. The thinking in my head goes something like this, “Well, if he can’t do it, somebody has to.” And if you’re wondering…yes, there was some resentment.

So then I spent several weeks looking for work. Any kind of work. Nothing came. During this time I was really, really unhappy. I was getting several signs that this wasn’t the direction that was going to lead to the financial prosperity I longed for. In addition to no movement on the job front, my body was filled with anxiety that kept me awake at night, I was unable to eat, and I was grumpy. But I was doing what I thought had to be done.

Then I began learning about quantum physics and how we can create our reality by raising our energy etc. and it really helped shift me into a much more positive space. I felt empowered, energized and hopeful. Instead of hunting for jobs, I placed my energy into things that brought me joy: my family. And while our financial situation didn’t change, I was much, much happier. I began to trust and have faith that things would work out.

I stayed in that space until a few weeks ago, when, once again, I was faced with the cold, hard facts of our finances. Sent me right back into that panic place. And the pattern continued. I jumped into looking for full time work outside the home. I was scared and miserable. And nothing was working out. None of the positions I was applying for responded. None.

Again, it was clear that this path wasn’t leading me anywhere, but I just didn’t know what else to do. My prayer shifted a bit. “Please just point me in the direction that best serves our family. And if I’m meant to be home with the boys, please provide the financial means to allow that to happen.” I even got really specific, asking for the amount of money that would help us out.

And then a friend gently pointed out the possibility that perhaps the opportunity available to me is to shift out of my old (grrrrrrrr) pattern of over responsibility.

Ding, ding, ding!

Yes, I’m guilty. I come from a long line of women who have learned the pattern of over-responsibility, sometimes known as martyrdom. I’ve been aware of this pattern for a while. Even explored the connection with my breast cancer, but again, that’s for another blog. But I have been mindful of my choices with regard to this pattern, especially around my boys. It just hadn’t occurred to me that the behavior was showing up in relation to my husband.

And I realized that perhaps the reason we’ve been stuck in this pattern of financial lack is that I have been enabling it. UGH. OUCH. Really? All along, I thought by jumping in and overstepping my husband’s role, I was saving us; when in reality, I was enabling him to stay small and not giving him the space to step more fully into the role that he chose.

My rational mind is quick to step in and question this insight. Doesn’t this give my power away? I am a strong, independent woman and I wonder if this is my way of playing small. But wasn’t the point of the whole feminist movement to give women the power to make their own choices? I am choosing this path. But the thinking part of me still wonders if these are rationalizations to serve my position.

I check in with myself and a few things come forward right away. First of all, this FEELS right. The anxiousness and tightness in me dissipates as I come to this realization. Secondly, what we’ve been doing up to this point is NOT working, so why not try this out?

So I took a huge leap of faith. I sat down with my husband and shared my insights. If the past several months has offered us anything, it’s the ability to speak the microscopic truth with each other. Many times in the past we’d discussed changing up our agreement and switching roles. But we know that wouldn’t serve either one of us; in fact, it would bring us further away from our own heart’s desires. So I took a deep breath and spoke my truth. I told him I was going to stop looking for full time work and that he would have to find a way to step up and make the money to keep us going.

It was scary, but also so liberating. It felt as though a weight was lifted and, once again, I could breathe.

And guess what happened? My husband had an amazing week of meetings. There’s nothing solid on the table YET, but there’s lots of possibility and potential. And I think I can make our remaining resources last until he lands that next gig. Because that’s what I’M good at. I’m great at making the money we DO have last for a long time. I’m also really good at believing in my husband and kids and holding that space so they can be the amazing people they are! I’m good at finding ways to save money and generating supplementary income. I’m great at keeping our financial books, cooking (well, sometimes), cleaning and keeping our house in order. And I’m especially good at keeping my family healthy and happy.

I ran into a man while walking our dog recently. He has been a banker all his life and he was sharing how excited he was to be reaching retirement so he could finally do what he has wanted to do his entire life, write a book. I stop to think about choices. Sure, we could’ve chosen that path, but we decided a long time ago to try things differently: to do what we love NOW and have faith that our passions would provide us with what we need. OK, so it has presented some challenges, but honestly, I wouldn’t want to do it any other way.

So here’s to financial prosperity. After all, I’m already living a tremendously abundant life, where I get to experience radiant health, joy, laughter and LOVE every day. I understand the incredible gift that I am blessed with daily. Now it’s time for me to surrender and complete the picture by accepting and receiving financial abundance.

And so it is.

In loving,

Sarah

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albanlakepublishing-blog · 6 years

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February Alban Lake Spotlight

Mike Morgan, Author

For our very first interview, we have Mr. Mike Morgan, a prolific and excellent author. He was kind enough to take time to answer our questions; but first, a quick bio for Mike:

Mike Morgan lives in Iowa with his wife, two children, and increasingly infirm cat. After careers in the UK, Japan, and Texas involving accountancy, freelance illustration, non-fiction writing, and teaching, Mike now does improbably complex things on computers for a living. When he's not worrying about the cat or tidying up his kids' toys, Mike gets overwrought about politics and attempts to write short stories. It's possible his two hobbies get muddled up from time to time. He has written for several publishers in the UK and the USA, with pieces in anthologies, comics, and magazines. Follow him on Twitter as @CultTVMike, where he posts about all things sci-fi. Oh, OK, it's mostly Doctor Who.

My website is: https://perpetualstateofmildpanic.wordpress.com/

My latest project is this month's Outposts of Beyond.

And on to the interview . . .

Q: When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

A: I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I looked at book covers as a young child, maybe five or six, and thought, "I want my name on a book." When I got into comics with 2000AD and then Star Wars Weekly, this would be when I was 7, that desire spread to wanting to be in the credits boxes in comic books, too. Unfortunately, as I got older, it became apparent that selling work wasn't going to be as easy as I'd initially thought.

I tried for a sustained period in my twenties to break into comics, but never got anywhere. At one comics convention in Bristol, while hauling my portfolio around, I got chatting with Matt Brooker, who was brutally honest with me. "Look," he said, "There's nothing particularly wrong with the way you draw, but there just aren't any openings. We hire on maybe one or two new freelancers a year and they have some quirk. You draw well, but there's nothing unique. To develop that style, you need to put in thousands of hours of practice, and you're not going to get paid for that. You don't strike me as independently wealthy, so I doubt you can afford to do it for free. So..."

He was right. I was dirt poor. I got a job in accountancy, which I hated. But at least I could go back to affording food.

Later, after years of doing things I loathed, and then teaching for several years in Japan, I immigrated here to the U.S. Starting a new career in Texas, I worked for seven years as a technical writer and editor, which helped me fine-tune my knowledge of English grammar and punctuation and gave me first-hand insight into how hard it is to express complex ideas in plain, no-nonsense sentences. I got enough feedback to sink a fleet of Titanics and developed a tough skin to criticism. I also learned how important it was not to treat my fellow writers the way I was treated, and I became a mentor to some of the newer team members. Although the working environment was hostile, I did love the act of writing and I found joy in helping others improve their written work.

While all that was going on, I was continuing to put out one or two pieces of my own writing. Teaching in Japan gives you a lot of spare time, so I'd started floating a few things past publishers. Moving to Texas, I was determined to keep that up, but stuck in a car for three or four hours a day on a hellish commute, working tons of extra, unpaid hours, and starting a family didn't leave a lot of spare time. It was only with our move to Iowa, where I still am now, that I found a better work-life balance and was able to kick the writing into high gear. To my inordinate surprise, I discovered that publishers wanted to print my short stories. Not only that, but readers showed every sign of liking them. I was flabbergasted.

I look back now and I see my name on a book cover and my name in a comic book credits box and I'm glad I never completely gave in. One of my best friends, Kath, said this to me years ago and it stuck with me: "What I like about you, Mike, is that you keep on trying." I'm sure she's forgotten ever saying that to me, but I remembered, and I've tried to stay that way.

Q: What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

A: Oh, a 'quirk'! I have yet to develop one with my drawing, but with my writing...? Editors have often told me, in withering tones, that I over-write. You only have to glance at the length of this interview...

Also, as part of over-egging a box full of puddings in every story, I tend toward the proliferation of pleonasms. And uncalled-for alliteration.

If you catch me doing it, slap me.

Q: What do you like to do when you're not writing?

A: I watch lots of science fiction and read comics. I really enjoy reading stories to my two kids at bedtime, too. Honestly, with two young kids in the house, I spend a lot of time taking endless delight in everything they say and do. I try to carve out a few moments every day to remind my wife how much I appreciate her.

Q: How many books have you written? Which is your favorite?

A: I've had 10 short stories published professionally, with two more coming out in the next couple of months. A couple of those were my Titanville stories, which were published together in an e-book by Nomadic Delirium Press, getting me my first solo front-cover credit. I have a dozen more stories in slush piles as we speak, so one or two more will probably work their ways through to acceptance this year – that seems to be the typical ratio of stories sent to stories accepted.

I've also had a few stories in charity anthologies, and a couple of poems (one was about Star Trek and was printed by Iron Press in a collection sold throughout a major high-street chain of bookshops in the UK), a few non-fiction articles about the long-running BBC TV series Doctor Who in various tomes, and a comic strip script in the British small press comic Futurequake. Another comic script is being drawn now, as it happens, for Futurequake. We're hoping it'll be included in the Spring issue, but we'll see how that goes.

Oh, and I worked for a short while at an online word mill, putting out articles about sci-fi. You can find them at WhatCulture.com. They accumulated about three million page-views, I think.

Q: What inspires you to write?

A: I am drawn to the act of wrenching something into existence through the blunt application of imagination and willpower. I am compelled to create. For better or worse, you guys are on the receiving end of that compulsion.

When it comes down to deciding what I'm going to write about, I think there are some themes I keep returning to: the beauty in the world, the triumph of love and kindness over indifference and cruelty, the eternal fight against injustice, how any attempt to simplify the complexity of the real world down into stark black-and-white concepts will lead to hate and death...

Also, I love writing characters who are flat-out wrong. There's nothing more fun and more human than someone who is utterly convinced about the rightness of a cause, and that cause is based on an utter misunderstanding. Really, that type of thinking characterizes most of our species' history. People who are wrong deserve our sympathy, our help, our love, not our derision. Anyway, that's some entertaining stuff to write about.

One final thought – I don't want to be a downer but I do feel time pressing on me. Nothing like worrying I'll be dead in a few years to spur me to get some writing done.

Q: Do you set a plot or prefer going wherever an idea takes you?

A: I try to have a clear idea of what the story's about before I get too far down the rabbit hole of writing. Preferably, I have an end worked out as well, even if that ending changes by the time I get to it. Sometimes, I'll start the story with the end and work my way backward to the beginning. But there should always be a purpose to a story, even if that purpose is to have fun.

Every time I carve a tale out of the disorganized mess of my thoughts, the process seems different. One time, the whole story will spill out of me in a rush. Other times, I have to sit down and think through what I'm trying to express.

Every now and then, a neat idea will occur to me, but I can't find a way to get a coherent plot out of it. Then, a second, entirely different idea will come to me, and I find mashing the two disparate strands together into the same reality brings the whole thing into focus.

For example, someone having giant spiders in her home and not being bothered by them because they're not in any way dangerous is a neat mental image, but it's not a story in itself. But, add a second strand: imagine there's a neighbor whose job is to twist facts to meet political dogma and that neighbor comes into contact with those spiders... what happens? Does she believe the objective truth that they're completely safe to be around, or does she react with emotion and twist reality to meet that baseless viewpoint? After all, that's her job.

Boom – you have conflict. The wrong-headed, fact-denying neighbor suddenly at war with nice, harmless giant-sized arachnids. For no other reason than she can't see the truth in front of her face, which is a very common and very plausible failing. What's more, the story takes on a greater message: we shouldn't twist facts to meet our prejudices, no matter how tempted we'd be to do that if we were in the neighbor's shoes.

That's where A Spider Queen in Every Home came from, the mingling of two ideas that, on the face of it, can't coexist in a single narrative; but, they can, and that story was picked up and published in More Alternative Truths by B-Cubed Press.

Lastly, some publishers require that you pitch ideas. There, you have to submit a complete plot, along with character notes, up front. If a pitch is accepted, there's no scope for changing details along the way as you write the actual story. For all you know, by altering the agreed-upon tale without consultation, you might be encroaching upon territory occupied by another story in the same collection.

When fleshing out a pitch, it can feel like you're working while wearing a straightjacket. But it's an opportunity to find ways of making the piece as entertaining as possible without venturing beyond the plan you gave your word on. I've written a couple of stories based on pitches. Unto His Final Breath in Uffda Press's King of Ages: A King Arthur Anthology was created that way, and it garnered some nice reviews. I really like the world building I got to do in that short story.

Q: What types and forms of writing do you do? If you're also an editor, what is your niche?

A: I mostly write short stories these days, but I toy with novels. I do have a novel I'm working on (doesn't every writer?) - but, it's the short stories that sell. I am sneakily putting together various stories that work as elements within a greater whole, so that by the time they're all published you'll find they're a novel-length narrative printed in discrete parts across multiple publishers, books, and media. That's the idea, anyway.

For example, the Titanville stories stand alone as individual tales, but the intent is to have themes and sub-plots that build as time goes on, without requiring the reader to be familiar with every installment. The Age of Asmodeus stories have a similar approach; there's a history to that world, and each story explores a different sliver of it. As those stories go on, readers will see various characters moving in and out of segments of the series or they'll be referred to. Again, the readers won't need to read every story, but there'll be a sense of events moving forward for those who do.

With the tales featuring Professor Lazarus, the cumulative narrative will unfold using text-based stories and comic strips. Again, that's the hope. Futurequake, a British comic, has printed one story so far and has another one being drawn at the moment. With the short stories, I've had some luck; Flame Tree Publishing printed Fishing Expedition a while ago. I've written a couple more Lazarus stories since then that I'm waiting to hear back on, so we'll see how that goes.

But you were asking about types of writing. Occasionally, I have a poem published. More often, I'll get non-fiction pieces accepted. I contribute on a semi-regular basis to the range on media and culture put out by Watching Books. This year, they're printing a volume called You on Target about the Target series of Doctor Who novelizations, and I have two essays in that.

With editing, I offer my services to small presses who print my stories, with regards to proofreading or checking formatting. I'm always willing to help put out the best publication possible.

Q: What is your area(s) of subject matter expertise? How did you discover this niche? What intrigues you about it?

A: With living in Japan for several years, I found writing stories set there pretty easy. Not much research required! There's a story of mine being printed soon by you fine people at Alban Lake Press set in Japan. Kuro no Ken (The Back Sword) is slated for the next issue of Outposts of Beyond. The scenes in Ise City take place twenty minutes down the road from where I lived for three years, and the part in the vast cemetery—I've visited that cemetery and it really is that creepy. I love Japan. Those were some of the happiest years of my life.

Having said that, I lived for longer in Stoke-on-Trent in the UK, and that was the setting for Reverse Horror Story. Your fine company published that piece in Bloodbond just last year. I had way too much fun putting Stoke-themed jokes into that monster-mash-up. I guess, to answer your question, I'm an expert at shoe-horning places I've lived into my stories. I find having a deep knowledge of the settings makes them feel more authentic.

But, to be clear, I've never lived on the enormous asteroid Ceres, the setting of The Library of Ice in this month's Outposts of Beyond. I'd be willing to give it a try, though.

Being serious for a moment, I keep writing about people who are struggling because I've been through that. Want to be an expert on the poor? Try being unemployed for years on end, not having enough to eat and worrying about losing the room you're renting. That'll give you an understanding of what that life is like. Newsflash – it's really stressful and depressing.

Q: How do you balance your creative and work time?

A: I have yet to find any balance, but live in hope. I get the kids to bed in the evening and then try to write. Sometimes, I even succeed.

Q: Where have you been published? Upcoming publications? Awards and other accolades?

A: Other than the things I've already talked about, I'd like to mention Nomadic Delirium's Divided States series, which explores a post-USA North America. My contribution to this excellent range was The Wall Is Beautiful. I hope to finish a second story in this shared universe. I was also fortunate enough to have submissions accepted in their Martian Wave and Disharmony of the Spheres collections.

One other project I'm very proud to have participated in was Metasaga's Futuristica anthology. I had Something to Watch Over Us included in that amazing collection. I can't heap enough praise on that spectacular book; if you like science fiction, you need to own it.

As far as upcoming releases go, that I haven't already called attention to, I have a story called Buddy System accepted in Myriad Paradigm's upcoming Mind Candy anthology. The intent is for that book to be released in the next few months. I also have something in the editing pile with Red Ted Books, which should be advancing toward publication this year.

And, yes, it's a fanzine, but I like fanzines, I'm working with the wonderful people who put out the Doctor Who-themed Fannuals to see what they might want from me for their next volume. I'm so in love with the Fannual project; it's incredible fun. It's actually what I'm starting work on after finishing this interview.

Q: What are you working on now?

A: Well, Alban Lake announced they were going to do something with ghost stories, so, you know, I thought I'd try to submit to that. *Grins*

In the pipeline are more Age of Asmodeus tales, more Titanville, more Lazarus, more space opera antics, more of everything I'm obsessed with.

Q: Who are your favorite characters to write? How did they come into being, and what do you love - or loathe - about them?

A: I love writing about Professor Lazarus. She gives her life in every story, usually to save the world from some terrible fate. Then, next story, she's alive again, in a world that's transformed. It forces me to reinvent her and her milieu every time. And there's a point to all her deaths; it's leading to something.

She came into being because I thought, "Hah – killing the lead character every time would be funny." Then I thought, "What if it's the same lead character every time, and there's a reason she keeps coming back?" How does knowledge of her deaths affect her? Where, at a character level, does that propel the over-arching storyline?

Another fun character was Silas Smith in The Man Who Killed Computers (published in Disharmony of the Spheres). He's able to lie to computers and have them believe what he's saying. Once you realize how he's doing that, it's less amusing, because you also realize that he can manipulate the humans in the story. I love the ambiguity of his character. He tries so hard to convince everyone he's a hero—the story revolves around how others respond to his claims.

Q: Any advice you would like to give to aspiring writers?

A: If someone says you need to improve, he or she is probably right. Every writer needs to improve, every day. It's a process that never ends.

Don't take rejection personally. It's the work that sucks, not you.

Keep trying. Stories are only published if they're written and then submitted.

Realize that even after you've had a pile of stories published there will still be more defeats than victories. And that it's OK.

Anything else you’d like to add that I haven’t asked? For example, what would you like to see more of in your specific genre? In the publishing field?

We all like to get things for free. But—! Readers: try to pay for that fiction you're consuming. The more the publishers earn, the more they can pay the writers. The more the writers earn, the more they can write. It's a virtuous feedback loop. If you can't find good fiction out there, it's because you won't pay for it.

Or, you know, you haven't been to Alban Lake's store. There's lots of good writing there.

Once again, we’d like to thank Mr. Mike Morgan for his time and to thank all of you for supporting Alban Lake and all of these awesome authors and artists.

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