New story and some thoughts on process

Tuesday, August 29, 2006 12:24 AM

Against my better judgement, I have started working on a new story, called "Reunion." It's interesting because I wrote the last scene first, whereas with my others I started at the beginning.

One of my favorite horror/sci-fi authors as a young adult was Christopher Pike, a sort of R.L. Stine type who wrote a lot of formulatic fiction. He published a collection of short stories in the late nineties (when I was in middle school) that was interesting because it contained an introduction to each story describing the creative process. I remember Pike writing about how he would often be struck by certain scenes within a story, and then build the rest of the piece around that.

That's been very similiar to the way I've written the four stories on this site; the final scene between Simon and Kaylee in "Honor," Kaylee and Book pointing guns at each other in "Song of Shepherd," and Simon's father shooting him in "Home" were all the first things that came to me before I set down to write.

As a teaser, here's the last scene of "Reunion." It's not going as well as I would have hoped, writing wise. This might be my last piece, if I publish it at all. But there you have it.

Jayne sat outside in the shadow of Serenity, her cargo door open spilling light out into the cool night. Behind her, the ruins of the training house still smoldered in the distance. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jayne raised his shotgun. Seeing the laser sight play across Mal’s harried visage, Jayne let the gun go slack, though he did not un-cock it.
“You find anythin’ aboard that 母亲笨蛋’s ship tell us how he got a bead on us, Capt’n?” Jayne leaned forward in his chair.
Mal sighed, limping forward. “Not a thing that tells us who’s turning these wheels; could be he just kept after us after last year.” He looked quizzically at Jayne. “Didn’t I tell you to get to bed? Inara said the temple was literally the only thing on this rock, and now…” he gestured back to the hollow shell.
Jayne sat back. “Mebbe it was. Mebbe not. I know one thing; there’s folks in there I care about” – he thumbed back at the ship – “that been through hell tonight. An’ if I can see they get at least a night’s peace by spending the dusk sittin’ here guarding their dreams, then I’ll do just that.” Jayne leaned back in his stool.
“Seems like a pretty foolish thing to do.” Mal’s voice was heavy.
“Right foolish.” Jayne looked up at him. “You want me to find you a chair?”
Mal blinked rapidly. “I can find my own damn chair.”

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