Writing and disillusionment

I haven't written anything original since last November, when Stephen King's British publisher hosted a contest to promote his newest novel, Under the Dome.  The contest was simple.  Write a short story inspired by events in the novel (a huge invisible glass dome appears and covers an entire Maine town, keeping its citizens in and the world out), or our own take on what a dome appearing would be like.  The winner would receive an autographed copy of Under the Dome.

I wrote the story in about 15-20 minutes, and submitted it quickly.

I didn't hear a thing about it until last week, when I received this email:

Dear C McCullah

As Stephen King's editor and judge on the recent story competition for stories inspired by Stephen King's book Under the Dome, I just wanted to drop you a quick line to let you know how much I enjoyed your story Till Death Do We Part. 

Although it didn't win the competition (so no prizes I'm afraid), we thought you would be pleased to know that Stephen King and the small panel of judges at Hodder singled it out as one of just three titles for high commendation.

I'm also taking this opportunity to let you and fellow writers on the shortlist know about a course I am running in May, just in case you have ever considered writing a full-length novel and think it may be of any value to you.  It's a week's course entitled How to Free Your Creativity, Write a Book and Get it Published which I run in the beautiful setting of an olive grove in Turkey (3-10 May).  If you are interested please visit www.thebookdoctor.co.uk

With best wishes from

Philippa Pride

Now that is a great thing, don't you think?  here's the story:

Till death do we part.

That phrase kept spinning around in Brian’s brain. It seemed such a lengthy commitment. Death. Why not life? 

Through life do we live. Maybe not. Kind of took the sacrifice out of the equation. If you really thought about it, everyone on the planet is living. Not everyone has to suffer a separation through death.
 

Brian Stimson thought that love required more than just the threat of death looming over their heads. That’s why he’d sucked in his fear, tucked it away beneath his tight beltline (neatly hidden by a slightly overhanging paunch), and bought the ring. How do you choose a ring that symbolizes that eternal commitment? Is the size that important? What exactly is a carat, and how can you tell if the ring has enough? He’d guessed at the size of Susan’s finger, trying to recall how her hand fit inside his. Is it a seven, or an eight? Gold, white gold, platinum? Too many choices.
 

Fortunately, his budget had helped in the decision. Hope it doesn’t turn green.
 

Now the location. Where do you propose to your girl? Do you pick a place that is special between you, or do you pick somewhere that will become special just because of this teeny tiny little question?
 

There was Nobel Park, where they’d first made out in his ’06 Dodge Ram. Sure, it had started in the cab, but that’s why he had a truck, right? Brian had suggested that they move to the bed in the back, where, look at that! Where did those sleeping bags come from? With a wink that Susan knew came from a certain part of his anatomy, they explored each other on the outstretched bags. Oh, yes. That park was special.
 

What about Joseph’s Italian Restaurant? They’d had a few dinners there, the atmosphere was just right, and they could even have a little wine to help the night flow smoothly. Susan was a sucker for Italian food. She’d whispered once in his ear that if he kept dining her out like that, she was likely to do whatever he wanted her to. Yes, that could be a great way to cap the evening.
 

Brian thought more about it, though, and decided that he should do it with class, as a gentleman should, and make it a special occasion that wasn’t laden with subtext and hormonal exposition.
 

The Grove.
 

As soon as he’d thought of it, the choice felt right. It was a secluded little area, not so much like a park, but a scenic place to sit and watch the sunset. The Grove sat on a hill east of town, overlooking the spread of their burg. There were a few nice benches there, good shade from trees. As an added bonus, Susan had always wanted them to go up there, but Brian made excuses. Sunsets were boring.
 

But he was doing this for Susan. Guys didn’t need to remember this occasion for where it took place, as more for what it represented. This was the sunset of his single life. Now he would embark on a life of personal sacrifice, and partner with a girl with the best body and mind he’d found anywhere. Susan Yager was his choice, and he wanted her the rest of his life.
 

Of course, there was Susan’s father to contend with—he hated Brian. Susan had spent many nights crying on his shoulder about how much Mr. Yager hated him. “Can’t you spend your time with someone…decent?” Susan had described the many fights they’d had, usually right after she’d arrived home after a date with him. He’d stand on the floor at the base of the stairs, while Susan cried and argued back at the top. “He’s only after one thing! I know, I was his age, too.”
 

“And yet, Mom married you anyway,” Susan had fired back. Brian couldn’t see her for a week after that one.
 

Mr. Yager was better known as Dr. Yager, the town shrink. Brian just thought he was nuts, so it didn’t make sense for him to be a doctor of anything. But the good doctor made Susan take pregnancy tests after every date, and took her to the OB/GYN once a week for an exam. When her father discovered her hymen was broken, he flew into a rage.
 

Brian woke up late one night to the sound of brutal pounding on his front door. He raced across the house before it could wake his roommates, and peered through the front glass. Mr. Yager stood outside with a baseball bat.
 

“Open this door, you rutting monster!”
 

“Go away! What are you doing?”
 

Yager swung the bat, and broke the window in the door. Brian backed away, scared for the first time in his life. This was it. Time to cash in, and perhaps find a new girlfriend. If he was alive long enough to enjoy one.
 

“You’ve ruined my daughter’s innocence! I’ll destroy that thing if it’s the last thing I’ll do!”
 

“You’re insane!” Brian screamed.
 

Mr. Yager drew up short, panting, a hollow look in his eyes. “What did you say?”
 

“You’re really sick, man. Look what you’re doing!”
 

The old man looked down at the bat in his hands, and then up at the shattered window. He aged ten years in that moment, and in the harsh glare of Brian’s porch light, he saw the wrinkles deepen in the man’s face. The bags under his eyes sank lower. His lip trembled.
 

“You did this to me…” Yager whispered.
 

“Daddy…?”
 

Yager turned, and saw Susan standing several yards back, on the street. She had her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the late night cold air. Mr. Yager dropped the bat, and looked from Susan back to Brian, as if measuring the potential outcome of a contest. In that moment, he knew he’d lost.
 

From that night on, their relationship had been under an invisible strain that neither one wanted to voice, and bring to light. Susan stopped complaining about fights with her father. As far as Brian knew, they didn’t talk much about anything, especially her relationship with that boy. He knew better than to bring it up, lest Susan face the fear that seemed just beneath the surface.
 

He would have killed Brian. Somehow, they both knew it.
 

Months passed since that night. Brian treated her like a princess, right until the time came to fool around. Susan had changed. In those heated, passionate moments, her fire lit, and she became animal-like. The charge her father had dropped on Brian’s door that night fueled a need to prove him right. Susan took control of her love life for the first time, and threw herself madly into their physical relationship. At first, Brian was unsure. She’d never behaved in such a manner before. Yet, after their third or fourth encounter with the new, re-vitalized Susan Yager, Brian lost his fears and inhibitions.
 

He determined to make it permanent.
 

Tonight, Brian Stimson would take Susan’s hand forever.
 

He picked her up in his truck. She wore a knee-length black skirt, and a simple white sweater. The night was cool, but not cold. Sunset was about thirty minutes away, so Brian had her bring something else to keep her warm. He didn’t tell her where they were headed. Susan kissed him as she climbed into the cab, and took his hand.
 

“You’re being awfully secretive tonight,” she said.
 

“Can’t a guy surprise his girl once in a while?” he replied.
 

Several minutes later, he’d parked his car near the Grove. A few minutes before, Brian could tell that Susan had figured out where they were going, but had kept silent. Instead, her body language told the tale. She squirmed in her seat with anticipation of a romantic evening alone.
 

They traversed the trail that led from the parking lot to the clearing overlooking town. Brian sat his girl on the bench, and arranged her coat around her shoulders. The sun was moments from setting under the horizon. He sat next to her, put an arm around her; together they watched the transition in silence.
 

As soon as the shining star had completely submerged, and the fading light glowed red and orange, fading to the deeper blue of night, Brian stood up, and turned to face Susan. He paused an awkward moment, when suddenly faced with a motor skill he’d not anticipated. Should he pull the box out of his pocket first, and then kneel, or try to retrieve the box while down on the ground?
 

Brian knelt, and took Susan’s hand. Her sharp intake of breath was intoxicating, and added the courage he needed to follow this through. He reached into his pants pocket and grabbed the box.
 

His hand stuck near the top. He couldn’t get it out of his pocket. He paled, and tugged harder, until it whipped suddenly out, pulling the pocket inside out. Brian exhaled.
 

He opened the box, and revealed the ring.
 

“Susan Yager, I love you forever. Would you marry me?”
 

Tears glistened in her eyes, as she reached for the ring. Brian shook his head. Holding her hand outstretched, she removed the ring from the box, and slowly slid the jewel onto her finger. Perfect fit.
 

“Brian, I―”
 

The air was pierced with a loud shriek, almost like an energy discharge. Brian turned to look behind him. Had a transformer blown out somewhere?
 

He turned back, at the same time that he felt Susan’s weight fall away from his grasp. But he still held her hand.
Brian looked up at his girl, and wondered why she looked so shocked. In fact, there was a look of terror in her eyes. Maybe he’d misjudged the timing of this night.
 

Then he saw that though he was holding her hand, it wasn’t holding Susan.
 

A shining wall of glass had appeared between them. It had sheared through Susan’s body at the shoulder. The glass divided them, Susan’s body on one side, and Brian, and her left arm on the other.
 

Brian screamed as she collapsed to the ground.
 

“Till death do we part…” he whispered.