You may have been previously unaware of this, but since I began this blog I have attempted to publish a new post every Monday. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but I have really failed reached that benchmark recently. The reason for this is threefold. First, my days tend to be busy, and by the time I am able to sit down and write, all I want to do is watch TV and vegetate. Second, I’ve spent some time traveling recently, which sounds rather sophisticated until you learn I’ve only been to Texas and Missouri. The third reason for my intermittent blogging is the reason for this particular post.
I have been working on a project that is far broader in scope than those to which you have been privy here. See, writing about things such as politics, social justice, theology, and ministry have been delightful paramours of mine, but my first love is writing fiction. Ever since my world-renowned first novel, The Mystery of the Bike, was published in 1999, I have been creating stories nonstop. Most of them rarely get to be longer than a page, and hardly any of them have ever made it to the eyes of another reader. I’ve always been hesitant to let others read my stories, partly because I never seem to be able to finish them, and partly because I don’t want to find out that I’m actually the worst writer the world has ever known.
But this past month (which happens to have been National Novel Writing Month), I wrote (and completed!) a full story that will be published on this blog. It’s not a novel by any means, but rather a short story of about 15,000 words (which I’m sure some of you wouldn’t consider to be all that short). The other short stories I have published on this blog are in the 1000-2000 word range and are, for the most part, biographical. This one, however, is completely fictional and significantly longer. You have no idea how excited I am to share this with you (if you choose to read it, I suppose, which you certainly don’t have to do).
The story, which is entitled The Perfect Place to Stash a Corpse, will be published like the serial novels of old, meaning I will be posting the story in four parts. Each part will be posted on a Thursday, with the first to be published this week (December 3rd) and the conclusion to be published on Christmas Eve. Hopefully breaking the story up into four pieces will make it more palatable for those of you who wouldn’t consider yourselves to be avid readers.
I don’t want to tell you too much about what the plot of the story is, because—as the title suggests—there is to be an element of suspense to it. For those of you wondering given the timing of its publication, I suppose you could call it a Christmas story if that’s the kind of thing you’re into, but if it’s not then you can just call it a regular old non-festive story.
I’ll leave the suspense to King, the satire to Dickens, the allegory to Lewis, and the loquacity to Dostoevsky, only hoping that you’ll read what I have to offer and maybe enjoy it along the way. And if you hate it, that’s okay too. Just know I will never forgive you.
See you Thursday.