Home > Book, Flash Fiction, Writing > That was more difficult that I expected.

That was more difficult that I expected.

August is over and I am going to allow myself to go back to including monsters and the supernatural in my stories. I enjoy these elements. Having that kind of thing in my work makes it more fun to write.

It is time to have fun again. 🙂

Also, the latest issue of The Siren’s Call is available. Pick it up here and get a collection of apocalyptic fiction as well as another one of my stories.

On a related note, I have finished my novel. I have written a one page synopsis and a query letter. I have also decided to re-write the ending based on a conversation with a far more successful author and teacher. I plan to do that on Tuesday night, so if things work out, I am already looking for an agent when this post is published.

The working title is “Double Occupancy”. It is the story of a wizard who makes a mistake and binds the spirit of another wizard to himself. Two souls in one body. After four years together, the pair is trying to find another body to host the spirit so that they can finally have some alone time.

With any luck, I will be publishing Double Occupancy soon. As of now, it is time to start on my third novel. I wrote the second last year, but I trunked it because I don’t believe it is good enough for publication. I may look into it again in the future, but not right now. The story of a demonically possessed, life sized, sex doll doesn’t seem like one that will go well. I could be wrong, but, I just don’t have faith in it.

So, on to the next novel. I have a lot of ideas but I don’t know which one to start on.

I have an idea that crosses science with spiritualism where people can see and interact with their spirit guides. A different take on vampirism, making them more of the monsters that they used to be. A shape-shifting nature spirit that is looking for love and revenge, or, a historical piece where a father and soldier tries to secure a place for his dying little girl in a mythology that he isn’t a part of.

And that is just the top of the list.

Do any of you have an opinion? Just curious what you think. Leave me a comment and let me know.

L.E. White

(Quick Note – I am going to go ahead and publish the flash piece that I was talking about last week. I enjoyed it, and I still want to share it, even if it was rejected. I liked it, I hope you will too. The difference is that I am not doing it to get out of writing a new piece due to writer’s block. I think that difference is important.)



By L. E. White


Jenny pushed one errant strand of bottle blonde hair behind her ear as she glanced up at the boy beside her. “Are you sure about this?”

Roger nodded and aimed a wide smile at her. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great.”

“It just seems wrong.”

“If they didn’t want anyone to see them then they wouldn’t do it here.”

She licked her lips and opened her mouth, but snapped it shut with a tiny smack when she heard the door at the bottom of the stairway open.

“Shhhhh.” Roger held his finger to his lips before peeking over the railing toward the bottom.

Jenny did the same, leaning out over the rail as little as possible. Hoping that the couple would not see her.

At the bottom of the stairs a skinny, dark haired young man was shrugging off his backpack. Beside him, a tiny girl with purple and red hair pressed against the wall to see if anyone had noticed them ducking through the door.

“Coast clear?”

The boys whispered his words to the girl, but they carried up the stairwell to Roger and Jenny.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think we’re good. You ready?”

The voyeurs watched as the boy answered the question by kissing her.

Jenny’s eyes widened as she watched them. They broke apart after a second, and she felt her heart racing in anticipation. “Wow.” Excitement filled the whispered word.

“Yeah,” Roger answered. He leaned over and spoke into Jenny’s ear, his voice no louder than a breath. “But just wait, there’s more.”

A chill chased goose bumps down her spine, and Jenny shivered.

The couple at the bottom of the stairs separated, and the boy went to his pack. He took something and walked over to the wall.

Jenny’s smile faded, replaced by a look of mild confusion. With the girl keeping a lookout through the doors little window, the boy was rubbing something on the wall. “What is he doing?”

“Just wait. You’ll see.”

After a minute, the boy went back to his bag. A quick clicking noise that reminded Jenny of a child shaking a toy , drifted up the to them. After a second, the clicking stopped, replaced by a hiss.

“What are they doing?”

Jenny’s question was too loud. The sound carried up and down the stairwell, causing Roger to lean back from the edge. The couple at the bottom of the stairs both looked up at the same time that Roger grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from the railing. He held her and waited until the hissing started again.

“That was close,” Roger said. “Just be patient.”

Jenny frowned, but nodded anyway.

The pair on the third floor leaned back over and watched as the couple on the ground floor did their thing. The smell of paint wafted up to Jenny and she wrinkled her nose before covering the lower half of her face with her hand.

She leaned back, moving away from the stench, until she heard the bottom door open again.

“Come on,” Roger said, using his normal voice. “Let’s go see it.”

He took her hand, and Jenny felt the heat flow from his body into hers. She ignored the odor and the insanity of what he had wanted to do so that she would remain welcome explore with him. She almost stumbled as they descended. Roger’s excitement over the creation of the graffiti causing him to rush.

They stopped at the bottom to look at the wall. Jenny had planned to say something polite, but sarcastic. She intended to try not to offend Roger, figuring that he was enamored by the thrill of petty crime.


“I know,” he said.

The image on the wall wasn’t what she expected. There were no swear words outlined in different colors. It wasn’t an insult to someone by suggesting that you call their number for a good time.

“Oh,” Jenny said again.

Broken black lines formed the outlines of flowers, and splashes of color sat inside those black lines. The artist had left wide, bare places so that the original white of the wall added to the picture without looking forgotten. They were lilies, three different kinds, each at least four feet across.

Jenny looked over at the trash can and saw the stencils shoved into it. The people had not trashed the building. That pair had risked getting in trouble to share their art with everyone else that passed through this door.

Roger had brought her here so that she could be the first to see it.

“What do you think?”

Jenny reached out and took Roger’s hand. She squeezed it and leaned against him. “It’s beautiful.”


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