In between photography and writing 100 word stories (and all sorts of other life things), I’m still working on longer pieces. Ten years ago, I started something I called The Jump. Ten years later, I’m still working on it.
As with most of my longer pieces, it has been a struggle. Fortunately, a few months ago I found the path forward and I’ve been ever so slowly working towards a completed manuscript on the thing. I have only a few chapters left. But each chapter is like pulling teeth.
Side track here: over on Twitter, a few weeks ago there was a rash of writers whining about how the hardest part of a story to write was the beginning. I responded to one of them with the comment that the beginning was the easiest for me. Why? Because the story is new and there are no expectations, no holes to plug, no connections to be made. I can just write from the idea I have. Frequently, when I first started writing something, I can write 1,000-1,500 words in an hour or two. But once I figure out the story, where it’s going to go and how it’s going to end. That’s when things get difficult. Yesterday, as I wrote chapter 15, I spent most of the afternoon watching a baseball game on TV and working on that chapter. And managed about 350 words to finish it. It took hours.
And back to the point of the post. I hate it. I feel like I’m just going through the motions on this chapter. And I can’t do that. For some reason, I feel like this is the most critical chapter in the whole book. It’s when the two traveling groups finally meet up. It’s where love may bloom. It’s where The President’s Men attack those two groups that have become one.
It sucks. I need to step back and reconsider the chapter and start over. This rarely happens with my writing and normally I might just let it go. I can’t do that with this one though. This story deserves more than me just going through the motions, rushing through this chapter so I can get to the end.
Sigh.
Back to the drawing board.
******
Long-time readers may remember when I posted the first few chapters of this story. It’s possible that those chapters have changed. What follows is what may be the first chapter now:
Alisdair Weston
October 5, 2011
The place was a small town in Kentucky. Loretto, where fewer than 1,000 people called home. Alisdair Weston rose in the school auditorium and walked slowly to the podium. A few journalists from nearby newspapers were there. A few more locals, too. There were no TV cameras. Just a few people with their phones out, recording Weston as he began to speak.
The video was viewed millions of times in the months that followed. Like archaeologists pouring over ancient writings, viewers puzzled over what it all meant. As the recording begins, Weston can be seen shuffling papers on the podium, dropping some and appearing to put them back in some random order. Once he got the stack under control, he looked out at the sparsely filled room.
The person with the phone, whose name has never been revealed, was off to the side. He, or she, alternately zoomed in on Weston and zoomed out to get the reaction of the few who were there.
When Weston began speaking, at first, he spoke uncertainly. He stopped and started, his voice occasionally taking on a quavering quality that said to the listener that this man was nervous and if he was serious about his announcement, he better pick up his game a bit. But about halfway through, something changed. His voice steadied and a look came over his face and he launched into his broadside of modern America and explained why he, a little-known Congressman from Nowhere, Kentucky, was running for President.
We live in an age of division and distress. Too many Americans go to bed hungry or without a roof over their heads. While others count their billions and never stop adding to their stack of cash. Rather than seeking to unite us and to provide for all, our leaders, if you can call them that, have sunk into corruption and greed, pandering to their bases while ignoring the misery in front of them. They are more interested in power for their own benefit instead of power for your benefit. For the people of America. These people in power are the enemy. Have no doubt about that.
We are a great nation, leading the world through two great wars, creating the greatest economy that ever existed, and serving as a beacon of freedom and prosperity for all on Earth. We have led through democracy and financial aid. We fought wars to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. We have done so much for so many.
But it’s time now to step back. To take care of our own for it is a fact that we have left so many of our fellow countrymen and women behind while distracted by the needs of others. Many who have never appreciated our help and our example, but who have opted instead to continue to battle us in endless conflicts that bleed our resources.
This is why I am running for President. To paraphrase an old election slogan of better days, once again, there will be a chicken in every pot and a roof over everybody’s head. I will ensure that peace exists in our lands and at our shores. However, until we can get our own house in order, when I am President, we will no longer fight the world’s wars. We have our own war right here in America that must be resolved. We must achieve internal peace before we can spread peace throughout the world.
You may be looking at me now, wondering how I think I can win the Presidency. It’s simple. Because I believe I can. And I will. God is on my side. America needs God. And God WILL BLESS AMERICA!!
When the news channels got a hold of the video, they aired it. Talking heads practically exploded at Weston’s belief that he could win the Presidency. CNN declared him “the proverbial back-bencher” and practically laughed at the idea he could win.
“Nobody has heard of him. Nobody. I called a source at GOP’s national headquarters. She’d never heard of him. I had to google him to see who he was before I came on air tonight,” said an anchor from MSNBC.
And Fox News, while applauding his call to God at the conclusion, showed the opening of the video over and over, with their anchor asking, “Is Alisdair Weston ready for prime time?”
What the pundits and pontificators didn’t realize was how desperate Americans were for something different. The talking heads cracked jokes about Weston Who? But in small towns and lost places around America, Weston touched a vein. He spoke to their needs and desires and offered a hand to them instead of two hands to the powerful.
Weston ran his campaign on a shoestring as an independent, unaligned with any of the major or minor parties. He relied on small donations that began to come in from millions of Americans, many of whom had never donated to a political campaign before. As an independent, he didn’t have to run through a primary gauntlet. Instead, he was able to speak to the crowds he wanted to speak to, in the states where he wanted to go. He didn’t need to pander to voters for delegates. Weston didn’t have to appear in 37 debates from Iowa to New Hampshire to Georgia and on to California.
Instead, in the closing lines of his stump speech, repeated at events across the country, he spoke of his dream for America.
I remember when children roamed the streets. They didn’t spend the day looking at screens, locked away from other children. No, our children had free rein to experience the world and we were better for it.
In school, we started the day with the pledge, learned the three r’s and how to think. We didn’t have counselors ensuring our self-esteem. Everybody didn’t get a trophy. If you lost, you lost. Winning was rewarded. Not losing.
Our leaders didn’t always agree on things, but they worked together when the nation’s needs demanded. Now, they just scream and yell and stomp their feet. And race to their own screens and the poison of social media. We have become a nation of Twitterers, more intent on likes and follows, than on actually governing and DOING THE RIGHT THING!
I’m here to tell you that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
It is time for our children to be children again. To run and to play. To laugh and to cry. To scrape their knees and, yes, even break a bone every now and then. To learn about America and its glorious history. That we are a Christian nation blessed by God. It is time for parents to be parents again. To be responsible. To lead by example and to shepherd their kids to the responsibility of being an American citizen respecting God and our past.
It is time for our elected leaders to lead. And I say to the politicians of this country a simple thing. Lead! Or get out of the way.
There’s a movement rising and those who wish to continue our slide into mediocrity will be swept aside!
And don’t forget! A chicken in every pot, a car in every driveway, and for anybody who wants it, a nice white picket fence.
Vote for Alisdair Weston. I promise you that we will find the hallowed land and America will take care of its own. In peace and prosperity, may God bless each of us and bless America.
As Weston campaigned, his voice grew stronger. His presence sturdier. He exuded confidence and the American people needed that. In a three-way race with a firebrand Democrat and an outraged Republican, Weston won the popular vote by less than 100,000 votes and the electoral college vote by less than 20.
It appeared America was ready for the change Weston promised. Of food and housing, an end to foreign ventures and domestic strife. It seemed America, at least the small majority who voted for Weston wanted a return to the America of Mayberry and Andy Griffith. They got some of it, and they got a whole lot more.
What they also got was this. Less than a week after Weston was elected, he declared martial law, claiming that America had become a godless, lawless land and that he had no choice. One of his first actions was to outlaw the recording of his announcement all those months before in the little town of Loretto, Kentucky. It was only the beginning of a nightmare for much of America.
Novels, Short Stories, and More 