Changes.

And no Lance, this does NOT mean that I will be ending today’s post with the Bowie song of the same name.

v2pg-36-bowie-2-pa

Hey, did you know that I now have 200 followers? Pretty cool, that! And yeah Renee, I know that you average about that amount in new followers per week, but it’s a big deal for me, OK? So anyway, my point was, I have over 200 followers (did I mention before that it was actually over 200 followers?) But instead of writing for them, and enjoying myself with them, I’m just whittling my time away by moping about in an internetless corner. Sucking my thumb while rocking to and fro with the usual “woe is me’s.”

Not cool t, not cool.

So back to the keyboard I’ll be going. Seems to make sense, especially as I am getting ready to have a LOT more “quality me time” than previously enjoyed these past 17 years. I know, I know, “That’s not a change t, just a schedule update.” And right you are. No, the change has to deal with my focus. Moving forward I plan on sticking mostly to writing fiction from this site. This is in part because I truly enjoy it (even if my stories never actually go anywhere), and also because the bad feelings I have to express, I will no longer feel comfortable doing so here.

Those feelings will still have to come out – painfully plucked one by one, lest there be even greater future distress, should they be ignored now – so I plan on starting a second (anonymous again) blog to address these. Should you wish to read along there, please send me an email, making sure you tell me whose Blog parent you are (cue the announcers deep and woodsy voice: sorry, but this offer is only available to current friends and followers of aslongasimsinging.wordpress.com), and I can get you a link to the new address once it’s up and running (4/25 update: in fact, I’ve already pulled the last three posts from this site detailing the recent events, and placed them over there for continuity sake).

And speaking of anonymity, this site will no longer be so.

Yay!

First off, you’ve all been so good to me, and I’ve been blessed with so many “wouldn’t know you in a crowd, but I love you out here in Blogsville” friendships, it seems a shame to continue on with the charade. Secondly, as I knew that C was a private person, and as I also knew that I intended on writing about her often, I originally left names out of it. But seeing now as I can’t fathom any more posts of that nature coming across your screen from here, I think we’re good with retiring the whole “man behind the curtain” routine.

One last change as well kids, and then I’ll let you go. I am going to try hard to provide you with quality over quantity, so I may not be as regular as I was before in my schedule (say it with a soft “c,” it’s a hell of a lot sexier that way). Please know that  won’t mean that anything is necessarily wrong, it’ll just mean that I haven’t yet found for a particular post, the best words to, umm, well to… I mean, well – oh hell! You get the picture, right?

Listen kids, I’ve been a little weird as of late, and I’m sorry about that. I’m still not 100%, but I now see that someday I will be, just in a fashion wholly new and different from before. It’s taken me a while to recognize this, but as David Bowie once said, I’m “just gonna have to be a different man,” and be cool with that fact.

Oh crap! Now I DO have to end this post with his song of the same name!

Peace,

t

175 Words Plus A Sentence

We’re getting a new professor over at Master Class 2013.

In addition, k~ asked me to this week refrain from writing about dead people or people seeing dead people – maybe even try something life-affirming for a change…

These modifications of course, make me nervous. So much so, that – as you probably guessed from today’s title – I totally blew my usually self-imposed 150-word limit.

No worries though, I’m still Times New Roman, double spaced and one inch margined, all ’round.

So, understanding that this week’s twist is fitting the prompt sentence somewhere within the body of the text (versus being at the beginning or the end) below is week six’s submission for Master Class 2013:

storch-badge

Seeing her smile, he felt like a safe cracker who – partly by luck – had sussed out the first digit in a lengthy, arduous combination. She was more of a puzzle than she was a safe of course. But in the idea of locating the first two pieces to match, you just don’t achieve the same sort of satisfaction. Or so he imagined. Oh hell, he had no idea what he was trying to describe.

But that’s the way it was with love, now wasn’t it? He was unsure, as he had never felt this before. Not True Love at any rate.

He could hear his soul nudging him, “Shut up and talk to her already, you fool!”

Working up the nerve, he met her vacuous gaze while nervously scratching out a hello of sorts. All while his trembling body gave hint that – upon hearing her response – it might very well simply fall apart at each and every seam.

Before she could speak however, the gruff voice of the store manager intruded forcefully from behind, saying, “Sir, I’ve told you before – you frighten the other customers away, when you talk to our mannequins like that.”

•••

Shannon chose for this week, from Lev Grossman’s “The Magicians.”

Yeah, I just went there.

150 Words Plus A Sentence PLUS

I’ve always wanted to combine two or more prompts into one. I don’t know why, it just seems like all the good, cool writers do this at one point or another.

Well, I finally did it, but not because I’m necessarily good and/or cool. No, it had more to do with my wasting one post this week entirely on pissing and moaning instead (thanks for allowing me to punch the wall for a bit, kids).

So, with that being said, here’s my “mash-up” for both the folks at Friday Fictioneers and Master Class 2013 (whose twist this week included that we end with the prompt, versus starting with it). I hope you enjoy it enough to tell me what I can do better next time, and I hope you decide to jump in on the fun.

100_7227-1

A19.

There was something about that damned gate and me. It seemed as if every time our paths crossed, I was sure to have to endure at least some sort of fuckery during my flight. And not the same sort of fuckery that usually occurs.

No, with A19 in the mix, I’d seen passengers die unexpectedly, brawls ensue over in-flight magazine possession, and even once a smoker – after getting trashed on overpriced airline booze – being arrested when we landed, for yanking out the toilet’s smoke alarm.

This last time however, was the kicker. I’ve no idea what happened, but as the plane was landing, it careened out of control, slamming right into the side of the building. The A19 side, of course. The side that I was dawdling in, waiting to board a flight that instead boarded me.

And now here I’m stuck, presumably forever, haunting stupid-ass gate A19. Oh well, maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

•••

storch-badge

(148 real words, 1 made-up word used twice, 2 dashes, and a sentence.)

This weeks story prompt was brought to you by Judy Blume’s “Tiger Eyes,” musical accompaniment by Mr. Frank Sinatra, of course.

Playgrounds.

This is my first attempt at actually linking the song used, making it integral to the story itself. I’m not too sure how well it worked – please let me know your thoughts.

Standing at the fork, he stared resolutely into each direction, attempting to discern the good choice from the bad.

After all, that’s the way it always worked with this tired cliché, wasn’t it? One direction would surely lead to paradise, the other, to certain death. Which was which this time, he wondered. And more importantly, which was the more preferred of the two?

His teeth clamped down hard on the spare reed that sprang jauntily from his lip as he considered his options. It in itself being a mere passenger, provided no help in guiding him towards a decision as to which path he should choose.

He was confident that simply turning tail and going back was not an option. All the stories that needed to be told there had already been. All the experience, knowledge and adoration to be garnered from that place and time, had long ago been harvested. No, “back” was now a tapped out tired, “used to be.” No more real anymore than the hair that was now vacant from his glistening head.

Caressing his weapon of choice, he somewhat nervously wiped the sweat from his brow, while acknowledging that not moving in either direction would only serve to guarantee his fate. They were watching, and would sooner – rather than later – pounce upon one who was idle. Especially if they felt that he was weak or undecided.

Sucking in what could very well have been the last gasp of air he would ever enjoy, he shrugged the shiver from his spine as he boldly strode off towards the right, only to stop several feet in, as he unexpectedly recalled an old song he used to know. Tracing back his steps, he then double-timed down towards the leftwards path, smiling treacherously as he hummed along…

My apologies for the video, much like my story, this was the one chosen of the only two versions – both poor representatives of the song – available for play in the U.S. Smart move, record label marketing department.

150 Words Plus A Sentence

Well into week 4 already, I still feel as if I’m finding my way through this Master Class endeavor. Am I doing well, or doing poorly? I’ve no idea, as I haven’t received very many grades back as of yet.

That being said, I should (hopefully) be able to hear from all of you as to how I am doing, since Master Class has now instituted a voting mechanism to see who readers feel deserves to go to the head of the class in a given week. That means, from this Sunday morn through Monday night, you’ll be able to vote for whom you felt did the best job, after clicking here and reading through all the entries.

That being said, and without further ado, here’s my homework submission for week 4 of Master Class 2013′s spring semester.

storch-badge

And (like it or not) here’s the song I found myself humming along while I wrote it…

150 Words Plus A Sentence

Almost didn’t make it to class today, what with all the atrocious weather and (worse still) drivers mucking about.

Here’s my homework submission for week 3 of Master Class 2013′s spring semester.

storch-badge

And here’s a song I find myself singing quite often when thinking of dad, and when thinking about me.

150 Words Plus A Sentence

You are correct. This week’s submission does not include any characters who are dead, dying or talking about death. Nope, just a bitchy old lady on an average day in paradise.

Here’s my homework submission for week 2 of Master Class 2013’s spring semester.

storch-badge

And here’s a song that could have very well been playing up in the old lady’s head while she stood there…