June 14

The Cure For Insomnia


I’m honestly very lucky to be in the position that I am. So many wrong turns have been taken in my life, I took this weekend and the last few weeks to realize that I’m in a pretty great position as far as a being a burgeoning writer goes. I like where this is all going. The destination is in sight, and the journey is very fun.

This is the Summer of 2016. It’s a storytelling kind of summer. All summers are. Vacations and picnics, skinny dipping and roadtrips, love blossoming and arguments had all over. Summer is the season where you know that you’ll find more people outside and active than any other time of the year. This year is special.

Sometimes I can’t sleep. That’s my body telling me that it’s time to suss a storyline out, or just somehow get thoughts and ideas out of my head that are protruding necessary sleep patterns. So I try to write 1500 words a day. That doesn’t always happen. On the days where I’m able to make up a quota from a previous day that I haven’t met that mark, I try to do it. Make it to 5,000 words sometimes, that’s a great day. Fuck it–that’s an AMAZING day.

On occasion, I’ll broach the 10,000-word level. I will still never forget the day-and-night-and-sunrise I wrote 18,400 words. And then I fell asleep at my desk, mentally destroyed and ready for rapid-eye movement. 11 hours of sleep later, I was a new man. Gotta write. Can’t stop. Very lucky.


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June 14

Your Storytelling Fix: “Breaking Up”


Breaking Up

                “Oh and I’ve absolutely fucking had it with your bullshit!” exclaimed Jessica as she threw a clean dish at the head of Vince, her live-in boyfriend.

Vince was quick to duck the incoming projectile, which crashed into the dry-wall of their apartment, leaving a quality-sized dent.

“That’s great!” Vince shouted back her. “That’s goddamn great. You’re going to fucking kill me in the process. Because that’ll solve all of our problems, won’t it!”

“You’re no longer in my life, you bastard, Jessica said. “I’m packing my shit, and I’m just getting the fuck out of this hell we’ve somehow built together!”

Jessica furiously walked out of their apartment kitchen and into their bedroom, beginning to pack things hastily. “You’re the single-worst thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole goddamn life, you know that!” she said.

From the living room, Vince replied back, “Oh, Christ, the feeling is absolutely mutual. I can’t wait to get out of here!”

Vince plunked himself down on the couch, awaiting his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend to leave.

Jessica stood now in front of Vince, chucking her apartment key at him. “And fuck you!”


In tears, Jessica held her bags tight while rapping on Quentin’s door. He opened it after peering through the peep-hole and thinking to himself, “that’s Jessica, what in the hell is she doing here like this?”

                Quentin swung the door open and then held his arms out, welcoming her into his embrace. She dropped her bags and the two held each other for a moment. He finished the hug and still held her at a half-arm’s length. “So what are you doing here, baby? It’s been so fuckin’ long.”

Jessica bawled and went to his shoulder to coat it with grief and snot, saying unintelligible things. “I just don’t want to be alone. Vince and I are so over, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Opportunity was knocking. Quentin squeezed her tight. He didn’t think twice when he took her by the hand and led her down his apartment hallway. Jessica was already weak from all the emotion. “Oh, alright. You’re so good, Q.”

“And don’t you forget it this time, baby,” Quentin said as he flung his bedroom door shut behind the both of them.


Quentin held Jessica in the low light of his single bedroom lamp. She barbled on even post-coitus, her emotions scattered as the two’s clothes over his apartment’s hardwood floor.

“I just don’t know where to go from there,” Jessica said while Quentin spooned her.

“Well, you can hang out for tomorrow if you want,” Quentin said. “But I’ve got a few long shifts coming up in the next few days, so you’ll probably want to go get a hotel room or something. You don’t want to be here all by yourself, do you?”

“And what company am I going to have at a goddamn hotel?” Jessica snapped, unbuckling herself from their cozy position.

“Babe, look, you know what this is. I’m not a seasonal beachfront time-share. I’m a Vegas weekend.”

“Yeah, a Vegas weekend with just an average dick.”

“What the fuck did you just say? Get out of here, you rotten bitch.”

For the second time that evening, Jessica quickly gathered up her things, only this time she was half-naked while doing so.

“I just get used, no matter what. Well fuck you, Quentin, I deserve better!”


Jessica pulled up to her familiar parking spot and turned the ignition to her Sentra off. Paying no attention to her personal appearance, she blasted out of her driver’s seat and onto the path to Vince’s front door.

She rapped the door as only she could, from softly and infrequent to louder and more frequent.

“Who’s that?” asked Vince from behind his door.

“Who do you think?” Jessica said.

Vince opened up his door to the disheveled Jessica, both being emotionally drained and ultimately longing for each other’s companionship. She dove into his arms and the two held each other for many consecutive minutes.

“I just get so scared sometimes. Of where this may end up, of where this can go, the possibilities…even with our lows, they’re still pretty high,” Jessica said.

“We can make this work,” Vince said. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility. What you should know is that I’m not alone in this apartment right now.”

“I know,” said a relieved Jessica. “I’m here with you now.”

“Well, there’s you. But there’s also someone else now. So there’s that.”

“You did what now?”