Danny Machal.com

100 Words – Over/under

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Four boys walk across an old decommissioned railway bridge in the heart of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range. Vern, keeps tossing rocks over the rail to listen to the splash they make as they hit the river below.

“Dude, your disturbing the fish, cut it out,” says Gordie.

“Just one more.” Vern picks up a rock as big as his palm and tosses it. No splash.

He looks over the side of the railing. He sees his rock floating on something bare and bloated.

“You guys wanna go see a dead body?” he says to the others.

100 Word Stories – shuttering walls and the pie man

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The Walls Shuttered

“Get away from that window Tres. The wind I fear will soon shatter the glass.”

“Duo is right Tres, not so close. That ghastly wind is the reason we are holed up in your brick hut in the first place,” Unus said.

“This region was not known for it’s gusting wind or I wouldn’t have built my house of sticks,” Duo said.

“I was under the impression this was more of a tropical desert climate. My house of straw should have been more than adequate.”

“The brick mortar appears to be under the assault of some substantial seismic distress Tres.”

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Hugh the Pie Man

Lucy waits in the dark of her entryway everyday, always at the same time.

The old dusty grandfather clock starts its bonging, sending out the nights collected particles in little poofs of classic horror show fashion.

6 a.m

The onset of dawn slowly illuminates Lucy’s matted, oily, and once blonde hair. Seething up and down she sits crossed legged in her stained sunflower dress, waiting for the door bell.

Crusted fingers adorned with hardened yellow nails clutch the second bright shining thing in Lucy’s life, the pie server.

Hugh the pie man should be here any moment.

She loves him.

Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 16

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Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 16 – Download PDF

Chapter 16:  What it is Smitts?

A little dark haired boy sat opposite Detective Arthur Martian and Officer John Martian in the waiting room of the Marshall General Hospital.  Arthur leaned his head back against a poster warning the public about the dangers of second hand smoke.  His long brown overcoat was pushed back under the arms of the cheap chair exposing the grip of his .38 in the shoulder holster and the red top of a pack of Marlboro Reds in the vest pocket.  The little boy, who couldn’t be more than seven or eight years old, stared at the pistol’s handle with wide eyes.  The boy’s mother provided a familiar inner city ambiance with her screams at the receptionist.  Really, she just loves her family and wants to provide a better life for her children.  Is that so wrong?  Medical bills keep piling up and they won’t cut her a break, these systems, are broken.  Arthur noticed the boy staring and nudged John to get his attention.

“You ever remember having an interest in guns when we were kids?” Arthur asked.

“Yea a little bit.  Probably only because it was against the rules to touch them.  Dad had us scared shit-less.”

“Yea, the old man was good about keeping some structure.  I guess.” Arthur prepared for John to react.  This was part of the game he played with his brother.  Crack about Dad, John picks up the fumbled ball to save his face, and then Arthur tackles him in the open to bring Dad back down.

“He was.  I don’t think Dad was all that bad when it came down to it.  What happened between you two that made you take off so soon and hate him so much?”

Arthur felt the hair stand up on his arm.  John was calling him out.  In a way Arthur was happy John blamed himself for their father’s death.  Up until that day five years ago it was Arthur who dodged the questions about Dad.  It was Arthur who told John to shut up.  Arthur was relieved to see the old man go.  Arthur could make his therapeutic snide comments about Dad and John would never want an explanation or let it go any further.  Arthur was counting on this to continue for a long time, at least until his own wounds caused by the old man were healed.  Now John was asking, asking a direct question, and Arthur was not ready to dodge, not ready to relive, not ready to tell the truth.

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100 Words – Unprepared

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Charlitok stands in line with the other veteran soldiers.

The commander is awarding accommodations.

Charlitok is proudly advancing to join an elite group who dawn the freshly killed head of a mighty grizzly bear.

Charlitok digs his heals into the soft earth, holds his head high, and tenses his muscles in attention.

As his commander lowers the head of the bear he feels a massive weight of responsibility to protect his brethren soldiers and the tribe.

“Good job Charlie, next scout rank is Webelos right?” his Mom says.

The applause and screams from the tribe echo in Charlitok’s ears.

How is the writing thing going?

February of this year is when I finally embraced making writing a major part of my day to day existence.  I had been writing my whole life as a fun hobby and for it’s therapeutic implications but it was time to work, to be better, and to change the world.  I told all of my friends, “I’m getting serious about this thing.”  I accepted I was a baby, a student, a beginner and wore that badge proudly.  I needed to learn from the masters, harness the craft, deal with personal anxiety, figure out what my philosophy toward this new monster would be, and most of all, I needed to always try to be better.  My behavior changed in that I started writing and recording ALL the time.  That was six months ago.  Now I get asked the same question constantly, “How is the writing going?”

The short answer – “Great! Fun! I’m grateful to have reassurance that this is indeed what I am most passionate about.  Things are forever changing.  I’m learning so much, exploring everything freely, and dissolving all limitation.  I’m doing it.”

The long answer -

Things are going fantastic!

At first my intention was to sit in the wings and observe.  I’d watch the blogs of J.C. Hutchins, Scott Sigler, Mur Lafferty and all the other influential authors in the podcast novel space.  All the while I’d work on my masterpiece and blow them all out of the water when it was ready.  After a very short while I figured out this was not going to work.  I was sitting in my hobbit hole scribbling but no one was reading it and I wasn’t learning anything about the craft like I wanted.  So I started searching for low-risk ways of exposure.  This is where the 100 word stories podcast came in and GreatHites.  Weekly contests where people voted for fun on the stories and your story was syndicated in a podcast.  It was simple: if people didn’t like your story they didn’t vote for you, done.  No one screamed at you and no one told you it sucked, it was bliss but also not enough to move forward.

I did that for a while and I started to educate myself more about the writing industry.  I subscribed to Writer’s Digest and every podcast I could find about getting better at this writing thing.

So that is where it started and things evolved way faster than I thought from there.

So, where are we now?

I think an itemized list will be more effective than a long hunk of wordy prose.

• I write for the 100 word stories podcast every week.  Those are the 100 word stories you see posted here all the time.

• I write for GreatHites as much as I can.

• I have two stories being published in the GreatHites Podiobooks Anthology.  The Reconstruction and Children of the Garden Wars. (still need to edit those for you Jeff, sorry for the delay.)

• I got into my first REAL writing group that Justin Lowmaster (SpaceTurtle) got me into.  They are a wonderful group of folks and I love interacting with people who nerd out about this stuff as much as I do.

• Give Blood and Thanks is officially a podcast now and is in itunes and all that.  It will hit 17,000 words very soon and be in official novella territory.

• I plunged headfirst into the social media space to rub shoulders and learn from these people I thought I would covet forever.  They are all supportive and great.  I have Twitter and Facebook for now.

• I have a ton of ideas I’m working on and new ones crop up constantly.  I have enough material right now to be locked in a room for about four years and write a few books.

• I’m learning the value of 100% transparency.  What I do that a lot of authors (can I say that yet?) don’t is, I post everything!  I post the ugly draft that I read from with all the typos, crumby syntax, constant switching of tenses, and even spelling errors.  If things get pointed out to me I go back and fix it, but I don’t ever dwell too long.  I’m not submitting to magazines, I’m not agent hunting, I’m not submitting to publishers, I’m just learning and sharing with all of you.  I don’t want to be on this journey alone.  I want my friends to know what is going on and the world to watch me grow up.

• I’m confident that I will be a novelist when the time is right.  Actually, the time will be right in November.  I will be participating in my first official NanoWriMo this year.  I’m extremely excited about it and there is a lot of planning I have yet to do if I am going to reach the 50,000 word finish line in just one month.

I think that covers all the bases for now but things are forever changing in this world so who knows what the next day, week, or month will bring.

Thank you all for your constant supportive words and encouragement.  That stuff really means a lot, truly.

That is how the writing thing is going. – Danny