(This is the first chapter to a book that I started to write in 1988. I wrote two chapters, did a full outline, and a complete chapter by chapter breakout. It is basically a YA action/adventure fantasy starring me and my best friends from High School. I was going to start sending it out to agents back then, but got caught up in writing a screenplay that I cannot find now. I don’t think anything was lost in not sending it out – after re-reading it and re-typing it to post here, I don’t think it was written for any audience other than me and my three friends that it features. I will add Chapter Two, outline and chapter by chapter breakouts in the next month or so.)
short story
Short Story: Dissolve To Old Age
( I wrote this in 1988. My memory of writing it is how smugly proud I was of the depth and ripeness of meaning the finished story had. Having re-read it after all of these years and re-typed it to post here, I am struck by how obvious and shallow it actually is, and how unbalanced the narrative . Still, I like it and what I was trying to say with it, regardless of how poorly I actually said it.)
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Short Story: Lost September
(I wrote this back in late ’01 and early ’02.)
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Her name was Michelle and he loved her.
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Flash Fiction Story: Upload Complete by Ben Fuller
(This is a short flash fiction story that I have been trying to write for the last year. It is kinda my epistle on the Singularity.)
Embed from Getty Images“Upload complete.”
There was a smattering of applause, but he was unable to determine the source.
“Nice work, team.” Different voice. Louder. Closer? Familiar. “Let’s run some checks and see if he is there.” Continue reading
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Short Story: Incident at Darrow’s Forge by Ben Fuller
(This is the first installment of a series of short stories I want to write that take place in a world in which Santa is real, as are all of the rest of our Holiday cultural representatives, but maybe not in the form that we are most familiar. )
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Flash Fiction Story: The Ghost on the Hill by Ben Fuller
(This is a short story that I wrote several years ago for a Flash Fiction group that I participate in on Facebook.)
The General stood on the hill and gazed out. The distant memories of that early morning still played out in front of him. Absently, he pulled at his short beard as the sun broke the horizon and began to flood the plain with morning. The shadows of the many tombstones stretched out, as if reaching to him in supplication.
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An Ode to She-Hulk
(I wrote this a couple of years ago for a Flash Fiction Group that I belong to on Facebook. It was then posted on Blogmaster2000.com – our Creative Agency’s blog.
The monthly theme was “Song Lyrics”.
So, I just wrote the lyrics to a song.
A love song.
For She-Hulk.)
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Flash Fiction Story: Magic is Real by Ben Fuller
(This is a short story that I wrote several years ago for a Flash Fiction group that I participate in on Facebook)
Magic is real.
I know it is.
I can feel it in my very core.
There is no other option than that.
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Flash Fiction Story: Rhododendron by Ben Fuller
(This is a short story that I wrote for a Flash Fiction group that I participate in on Facebook. The theme was “Rhododendron”. It was posted originally on Blogmaster2000.com on 2-1-12)
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes,” Pete said as he stared back at Mike for a beat longer than was probably absolutely necessary. “Seriously.”
Mike laughed and said, “Man, that is so completely lame.”
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Flash Fiction Story: Free Bird by Ben Fuller
The sun rested lightly on the horizon. Billy adjusted his left hand on the neck, and then reached down with his right hand to double check the cable connection and took in a deep calming breath. The pleasant rumble of the assembling crowd drifted up to his ears on the warm summer breeze.
Sometimes he felt like this was the only moment that mattered, this was the moment for which he kept on living. He generally felt that right now, as he heard Petey off to the side swearing under his breath trying to get the generator to kick over, as Layla smiled sweetly at all the locals dropping off food and then finding a place to throw out a blanket on the thick grass.
THE SINGLE HILARITY 