Between brief breaks on the WIP edits/rewrites/turbo-vomiting bouts of anxiety, occasionally I dabble with a flyaway idea to rinse out my husk. Some writerly types might call this procrastination, and to that I say please consult the first chapter of Don Winslow's SAVAGES. Anyway, about a month ago David Cranmer sent me an email asking for a short story for BEAT TO A PULP. Huh. Was his reaching out to me some sort of weird, symbiotic, cyber-orbital coincidence? Perhaps, but I saw David's offer as a pretty good opportunity to chuck some more of my fictional dribble on the wall. Yeah, yeah...I know...I promised to leave Charlie Byrne alone (for those who want to give me static over this backpedaling, please see the aforementioned Don Winslow suggestion)...but all in all it felt pretty great to use Charlie's voice once more and it was blast to trot out his cat, Chomsky, again. "
The Step Away" is a sad, little tale based on actual events--a former colleague's sister in-law relayed the scorched-earth details and consequences. When said colleague told me what had happened to her sister-in-law, I felt my jaw literally drop open like Lou Costello getting the bar check on New Year's Eve. Yep, one of those knock you back WTH moments. I said to myself, "Man, someday soon that nastiness HAS to go in a story." Not for nothing, but it seems like every other day I hear rumors of similar skullduggery, and the lives destroyed through petty vice and sociopathic weakness breaks my tiny, shriveled heart. Then again, nothing's new under the sun, right? Life goes on, and we're all headed for the same place in the end. Onward.
