The Grim Reapers of Precinct 74: A Post Mortem Transcript - Dooley & Monaghan

 

Post Mortem - Interview Transcript

Interviewee: R#64357 Dooley & R#63584 Monaghan

Interviewer: R#78225 Helena

Date: ?/?/23

Location: Post Mortem HQ

List of Acronyms: H – Helena, D – Dooley, M – Monaghan

 

(Start of Interview)

 

H: Thank you both for agreeing to this series! You know, I can still do individual interviews if you like–

 

D: We do everything together. Trust me, this interview will be much more interesting that way.

 

H: Alright, then. Why don’t you introduce yourselves!

 

D: I’m Dooley and this is my guy Monaghan. We go by our surnames because why be like everyone else? I’ve been everywhere – never really grew up in any one particular place, never established roots anywhere. Can’t say I lived an honest life and I’m not going to tell you what all I’ve done, but I can at least say my life was full and exciting. All 25 years of it! And Monnie here–

 

H: Why don’t you let him introduce himself?

 

M: Oh, I can? Well, um, I grew up in Tipton, Kansas. It’s a, uh, small town. Like really, really small. I was a theater major at the University of Kansas and I was hoping to make it to Broadway. I had so many dream roles I wanted to perform…

 

D: Come on, lighten up! We don’t want to depress Helena’s readers.

 

H: On the contrary, readers who are new Reapers might connect with Monaghan’s sense of loss. It’s not depressing at all – it’s a potential point for connection!

 

M: Oh…thank you.

 

H: You both haven’t been Reapers for long, have you?

 

D: Not really. I mean, I’ve been one for five years and he’s been with us for three. But rest assured, we’ve seen our fair share of action. You don’t have to work a long time to deal with a lot of things.

 

H: Oh, absolutely! So, since you two are doing this together, how did you meet? Why do you choose to work together? There aren’t many Reapers that do so.

 

D: Well, there aren’t many Reapers that genuinely look out for each other, you know? I mean, yeah, we all see each other in the field, around Tenebra, in The Clavicle, whatever. But there’s no real bonding at all. No one taking the other under their wing. It’s important, especially for us new folks, you know?

 

H: Haven’t you thought of applying for the apprenticeship program? You know, the one Mark started five years ago where new Reapers can learn under veterans?

 

D: Are you kidding? We already have enough overbearing dynamics with the basic training. You don’t need more authority figures. You need rapport, comradery! Does that make sense? You need a sense of brotherhood with your fellow Reapers. And so, when I saw Monnie all bright-eyed and alone, I took it upon myself to make things easy for him. It’s what I wanted when I started and I had the feeling it’s what he wanted, too.

 

M: I was really lost. I still feel really lost, if I’ll be honest. But having someone like Dooley by my side helps.

 

H: How do you think that helps, Monaghan?

 

M: Well…I don’t know what I believed before I died. About the afterlife, I mean. But I wasn’t expecting any of this and I certainly didn’t expect to be a Reaper at all. Everything was a lot to take in, so…when Dooley said we could work together, I was relieved. It’s nice to not be so alone.

 

H: That is a valuable insight, indeed. Having a buddy at the start could be very helpful to new Reapers. Now, to switch to a different point, do you think anything about your former lives prepared you for Reaper work? Or at least indicated you might be good at this?

 

M: Speaking for myself–

 

D: Oh, absolutely! I mean, again, I’m not going to tell you all the things I got up to. But let’s just say that my skills of, shall we say, entering unique places and sneaking around certainly helps me out. (pause) How about you, Monnie?

 

M: I don’t think so…I was only 20 when I died. My life had just begun. The things I was good at were singing, acting…and I wasn’t that good at dancing, but I was going to be. My soft shoe skills were improving–

 

D: You’ll have to forgive him. He’s still very emotionally attached to life in the Mortal Plane.

 

H: I can assure you, Monaghan, you are not alone in that department! There are even seasoned veterans who still wax nostalgic for their former lives. I do from time to time, myself!

 

M: Really? When were you–

 

D: Don’t ask questions like that. Besides, who’s supposed to interview who in this situation? Next question, Helena.

 

H: Well, I just have two remaining ones for you. You can provide your own answers for these. First question – what is your most memorable experience on the job?

 

D: Would you like to go first?

 

M: No, you go ahead.

 

D: Alright! Well, I’d have to say my most memorable experience was collecting the soul of one of my old friends. The instructors make you very aware that there is a slim chance something like that could happen. Even though, you know, higher ups are supposed to filter things out so we don’t have anything to do with former ties in the mortal plane and all that. Anyway, so I’m in his living room, where he’s been drinking and when his soul emerges, I wonder if he’ll recognize me.

 

M: Our instructors said–

 

D: Yeah, I know. That our faces are scrambled so no one recognizes us. I get it. But this guy was one of my longest, most loyal friends. I kind of hoped that connection could see us through facial amnesia. But…he didn’t know who I was at all. At least, he knew what I was, but he didn’t know I had an identity beyond being a Reaper. He was scared as all hell when he saw me.

 

H: An unfortunate reality we all have to accept. Monaghan?

 

M: I don’t have really many memorable experiences as a Reaper. Any moments are connected to my old life.

 

H: Well, then, what was a memorable moment in your life?

 

M: It was my senior year of high school. I’d been involved in the community theater for forever, but I’d never landed a role bigger than a super-secondary character with less than a handful of spoken lines. Then one year, I was the understudy for the part of Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls. And the night before the opening performance, the actor for Sky broke both legs.

 

D: Wait, what? You never told me that part of the story!

 

M: Yeah. Apparently he had too much to drink the other night and he tripped down the steps leading out of the bar.

 

H: Well, if that isn’t the most rotten luck!

 

M: I know. That suddenly threw me into the spotlight. And…being Sky Masterson for a week was the most glorious experience of my life. Better than graduation, better than getting accepted into the college of my choice, better than my first date. Everyone loved me, too! I got great applause at the ending bows. (pause) I was going to be someone.

 

H: Well, we’re glad to have someone so talented and passionate here. Goodness knows, we could do with a lot more passion in the field.

 

D: By passion, do you mean musical numbers in the final moments of the dead?

 

H: Anyway, the final question is what’s the most important thing you think you’ve learned?

 

D: That this world is like our world. The higher ups have no idea what they’re doing and the lower rungs do all the work.

 

M: You can’t say that.

 

D: Yes, I can.

 

M: But do you think that’ll be usable at all? People will read this – new Reapers will read this.

 

D: Does it look like that bothers me? They’ll find that out soon enough for themselves, anyway. In case that’s not newspaper-friendly, Helena, my answer to that would be listen to the instructors, but trust your instincts. At the end of the day, all the studying in the world won’t help you for all the surprises you run into in the field. And believe me, Monnie and I have run into a lot more surprises than anyone prepares you for!

 

M: That is true.

 

H: And you, Monaghan?

 

M: The most important thing I’ve learned? Find someone to be with. Find them fast. Because…well, let’s just say, there’s a lot of rough edges in the Reaper world. It’s an easier life if you’ve got someone by your side. Someone who cares. Or least, cares enough. 

 

H: Well, thank you both so much for your time!

 

D: Thank you for having us, Helena!

 

M: Yes, thank you.

 

(End of Interview)

A Preface to The Reapers of Precinct 74 Stories

                                                                             Preface

     In 2022, I had a dream about 2 Grim Reapers working with two vampires to help each other get blood and guide souls. It stuck with me for months and I felt compelled to write a story based on it.

     One short story later, I realized I was more interested in these Grim Reaper characters and fleshing out their world. With this in mind, I cut out the vampires to take time imagining more of these Grim Reapers and the kind of afterlife they served.

     Over the last couple years, I've tried writing this several different ways. It was originally a collection of short stories...but then I wanted to make a novel out of it. Wrote one first draft and quickly realized the plot wasn't at all what I wanted. It centered too much around one of my favored protagonists, instead of focusing on the world as well, and the plot I had felt very gimmicky. 

     Skip ahead to 2023. I reread the short stories I'd originally written and liked them so much that I thought, "Why don't I try writing this again? And what if I stuck to the short story format?" At that point, I decided this would be a book of interconnected short stories. There'd be recurring characters and locations. And while the storytelling would be episodic, there would be an overarching narrative that would weave in and out of each story. I wrote several stories set in this world and found more interesting episodic plots to incorporate throughout.

     As I faced the drafts that would need lots of work, however, I began to feel overwhelmed. I knew what I wanted these stories to be, but I wasn't sure my experience would result in the writing needed. Other projects called and, once more, the Grim Reaper stories were left in the background.

     2024. I remembered the Grim Reaper stories and wanted to dive right back in. I wrote even more stories and created even more individual storylines for various characters. It was really coming together and even though I knew my writing wasn't 100%, I felt more confident that I could take these stories and make them work.

     But, like in the past, I reached a point where I put the project on hold. This time, it was because death hit close to home. After attending the funeral of a dear family friend, I couldn't bring myself to write about Grim Reapers, about death and the afterlife. So I threw myself back into other projects once more.

     And now? I'm sharing what I have with you all. 

     Of course, I'd love these to be together in book form. I'd love to have them in a sequential order (since I'm keeping an overarching narrative). But I can always have them put together in that format at a later date. I'll also have a much better title for the overall project later on! I suck at titles, and The Reapers of Precinct 74 was all I could come up with for now.

     These characters and this world have been living inside me for almost 3 years now. All that time, I've been dying to share them with others. I got a taste of that when my peer review group looked over one of these stories and after I entrusted two others to a fellow writer for feedback last fall. Everything they had to say made me realize that these were, indeed, stories others might enjoy. Stories others might relate to. Stories others might want more of. 

     So now - with a smidgen of anxiety, a lot of emotion, and some excitement - I'll share with you one of these Grim Reaper stories. There'll be more to come, and each story will shed more light on the Grim Reapers that have lived within my mind. I hope you enjoy!

Fast Flash Fiction #1 - Living Hell

 

Living Hell

     In the middle of a half-moon night, a woman can’t sleep. She sits upright, looking into the mirror near the end of her bed. It isn’t long until she approaches it. Looking at her reflection, she appears tired of face, tired of herself.

     She’s about to turn away when she sees something in the darkness of the mirror’s reflection. For a second, she holds still, but nothing shows up. Still her eyes are wide, as if she expects someone or something to move behind her. Again, nothing happens. Uneasily, she climbs back into bed, her gaze never once leaving the mirror.

     A storm breaks outside. Rain hits the roof above the woman, distracting her for a moment. But then her eyes look to the mirror again. An arm clad in glittery black is reaching for her from behind. Without a sound, she scrambles off the bed, backing away even though nothing has materialized in the real world. In the mirror’s reflection behind her, the full figure of an otherworldly man crawls onto her bed, his face hidden in shadow except for the eyes. His eyes burn with fire.

     The woman turns and runs right through the mirror. Glass shatters and falls around her as she falls deep into a dark void. She turns mid-fall, looking at what awaits her below, but almost immediately after, she finds herself rolling onto dry ground. When she comes to a stop, she finds herself in a desert on the brink of a storm. Wind whips dust into the air, the clouds above are almost black, and lightning strikes in the distant mountains.

     She’s been here before. She knows this world – she’s carried it within her for longer than she can remember. And she knows there’s no living in a world like this. One can only hope to survive.

     Just when she’s gathered herself, lightning strikes behind her. Falling to the ground, she looks back and sees the shadow man from before. Here, his face is no longer hidden. It’s a pale, drawn-out face with a cruel expression and eyes the color of liquid gold. Black scales cover his body, shimmering like outer space. The wind tugs at the mere shreds of a cloak hanging onto his shoulders.

     The woman remains still, trying her best to hold her breathe. She watches as his golden eyes blindly look off into the distance. His whole body remains taut and expectant.

Blood-red light fills the edges of the sky, creeping in through the clouds. The first raindrops begin to fall.

     Just when the woman thinks the shadow man will leave, a cold snake slithers over her wrist. Again, she doesn’t scream. But her sudden movement doesn’t go unnoticed. Before she can run away, the shadow man grabs both of her wrists, pulling her up to her feet. He gets so close that she can feel the blazing heat of his eyes on her face. She strains, looking away, doing anything she can to avoid staring into those eyes for too long. The rain pours down harder. The dry desert ground turns to sludge.

     Lightning strikes as the woman manages to free one of her wrists. But the shadow man is persistent and pulls when she tries running away. She tugs, he pulls, their silhouettes lost in some strange dance against the ever-reddening sky. The wind gets stronger, shrieking like a creature in pain.

     Just when she pulls her last hand free, the shadow man’s hand clamps around her throat. In a single motion, he lifts her off the ground with the one hand alone. The woman closes her eyes, struggles to breathe, wonders how she survives this every time. She can feel the heat of his gaze burning through her skin, but she knows better than to look.

     Even in this panicked moment, she feels a change in the air. The rain doesn’t pelt her skin and the thunder grows distant. The shadow man’s grasp feels less and less real, as if he’s fading into nothingness.

     She keeps her eyes closed when he screams in rage, when the hellish light from his eyes erupts into fire. If he was any stronger in this moment, the flames would have charred her face. The thought of that makes her shiver, but she can breathe now, and every breath pushes her further away from this hell-world. Only when she no longer feels the shadow man’s hand on her neck does she open her eyes.

     Morning light streams through her bedroom window. Her sheets are twisted, most of them spilling off the bed. She lies huddled next to her mirror, which really is broken. Partially congealed blood slicks her hair and an arch-shaped cut lines her right arm. This hasn’t happened all the previous times, but she doesn’t act surprised. Things were bound to end up this way sooner or later.

     Thinking she should clean herself up, she rises and steps into the bathroom a few feet away. The door behind her swings until it’s ajar.

     The pieces of the broken mirror pool together on her bedroom floor. Like a wave, silver washes over the base of the mirror, filling in all the edges. In two seconds, the mirror is restored, and somewhere in the reflection, the shadow man’s eyes glare from the darkest corner of the woman’s room.

     By the time she steps back out, the previous night will be forgotten, as will the memory of all the other times. She’ll wonder why she’s injured and why it hurts to breathe. A strange, raw pain will tear at her from inside day after day. Her body will remember what her mind cannot until the next time she finds the shadow man in the mirror.

Only when this happens all over again does she truly remember. Every time, she wonders:

What could possibly set me free?

Author’s Note

 

     Diving into this brief piece of flash, I’ll begin with the basic conditions in which it was written, initial thoughts, and any other external factors that contributed to this story!

     I wrote this in the early morning on a day when I was struggling to do much of anything. This definitely impacted the story in what I was willing to explore and its lack of dialogue. I can always tell the difference between writing done under happier conditions and writing done when struggling mentally/emotionally. In the case of the latter, it often results in more minimal worldbuilding, overall minimal style, and more of a focus on visuals.

     As I always do, I was listening to music while writing this. Music always helps me stay in the varying moods needed for my stories, as well as maintain focus. On this particular morning, the song I was listening to was “1 Shot” by DPR Ian. Not so much for the lyrical content, but for the dark, dream-like, and urgent feel of the song. My synesthetic* reaction to it definitely contributed to the red sky imagery midway through the story.

     [*For those who don’t know, synesthesia is a sensory response that is the result of two neural sensory pathways crossing. When one gets stimulated, so does the other. In my case, my auditory senses stimulate my visual senses – resulting specifically in music synesthesia (seeing colors when I hear music)]

     Before I get into the actual content of the story, let’s talk craft – weaknesses, strengths, and all!

     The entire thing is told in the present tense, but instead of being told through the woman’s point of view it’s told by some unknown, yet all-knowing narrator. This isn’t typical for the majority of the stories I write – especially the use of present tense. In some ways, this unique POV helps create the sense that you’re there in the moment with the protagonist. You’re going through every strange and frightening moment.

     It also gives a bit of a voyeuristic vibe to it. The narrator is giving you information you couldn’t otherwise get (knowing that the woman has been through this surreal experience before, showing the mirror put itself back together, etc.). And you can do nothing but watch as the woman faces the shadow man in the desert and resets herself for the cycle of conflict all over again.

     Overall, I’m pretty happy with the POV choice! I think it’s effective for the kind of story presented here.

     I will say, however, that I can easily recognize one of my failings as a writer in this. The confrontation scene itself is alright, but not the greatest. I’ve never been great at writing scenes requiring both intensity and action. Tell me to create atmosphere and I can do that, no problem! But action? Perhaps you might come away with a different opinion, but I’ve always seen that as an area for improvement in my writing.

     While this is meant to be 1,000 words or less and leaves little time for worldbuilding, the worldbuilding is still important. That’s what gives you a sense of setting and reality and great worldbuilding for short or longer works can present a lot of challenges. I know myself to be a very character-centric writer, so worldbuilding has always been one of my weaknesses.

     Here, I don’t think it’s the worst. I couldn’t spend a whole paragraph describing the woman’s bedroom or the whole scope of the desert she falls into. But the details I was able to provide were decent enough. Considering, too, that this isn’t meant to be an overly touched-up work, what I managed to make in roughly two hours was fine. (Doesn’t mean I’m not going to examine it later and figure out how I can do better in the future!)

     [A brief tangent on the desert setting - that's a natural landscape that I almost always gravitate to when I think of more abstract stories. Having lived in Nevada for four and a half years as a kid, there's something about that kind of landscape that makes you think any strange thing is possible. You can easily picture ancient times, strange creatures, shapeless and nameless unknowns. I didn't appreciate it that much as a kid. But as I've gotten older, the desert has stayed within me and grows more and more vivid in my imagination]

     One other area where I think I could have done better here was engaging the senses a little more and a little stronger. There’s lots of visuals here – which was partially the whole point of writing the story this way – and there are both touch-related and auditory sensory cues. And yeah, looking through it, perhaps what I included really isn’t that bad. But in past writing group and writing class experiences, I’ve always been told to expand my sensory cues within the prose. I use as many specific, bold, or active words as I can to make the senses come alive. Still, I’m so in my head that sometimes I’ll stray into adding in overused terms or clichés. Not the biggest crime when used sparingly, but I try avoiding them if I know I can write something that feels more original or fresher.

     Now addressing the story itself. As I listened to music and let my imagination wander, images came to mind. These images fell into a natural sequence of events (at least, as natural as you can get for something that’s more like a dream) which loosely put together the thin plot in here.

     I really only hit something of a roadblock when trying to construct the ending. This is the one and only moment when we get a glimpse into the woman’s true thoughts, any sense of interiority. I wanted to make sure what she thought resonated with the last paragraph and conclude the story in a somewhat satisfactory way.

     Now, of course, the plot as it stands for a piece of flash fiction written in roughly two hours isn’t much. The plot is more like a dream sequence than anything else – something that has the semblance of story but doesn’t always provide enough details to really feel like a story. That’s to be expected for a more stream-of-conscious way of creating fiction. With it being surreal as well, it’s not going to work like a more conventional story, either.

     I definitely feel like the end of the woman’s struggle with the shadow man could have been more definitive or satisfying. During my daydream-y process, my mind couldn’t come up with anything other than the desert world suddenly fading away. If I gave myself more time and words to work with, I know I could come up with something different. Or if I really wanted to keep the fade-to-reality sequence, I could have drawn out the tension in the moments before it.

     The lack of dialogue, while intentional, might also present issues of its own. It’s not like there’d be many opportunities for talking in the story sequence as it stands. If I could, perhaps I’d give the shadow man one line…even then, I fear I’d write something terrible or cheesy. Something that would not fit the strange, off-putting vibes of the story. The extreme sparseness of internal thought might be more of an issue than the nonexistent dialogue. At the same time, though, would more internal thought get in the way of the dream-like sequence at work? Questions like this must be asked in both the drafting and revision stages but especially in revision.

     Another thing about this story that could potentially lead to reader satisfaction issues are all the unanswered questions here. Why has this woman been repeating this cycle of conflict? Who or what is the shadow man? What about her mirror? Why does it behave the way that it does? Why can’t the woman remember what happens? Is all of this due to a curse? Is the world she’s in one of magic or is it the real world? If it’s the real world, are mirror portals and shadow men an unusual phenomenon or a natural element?

     However, I hesitate to label this is a definite problem for one reason: the dream-like vibe of the story. Even if I hadn’t followed my imagination’s natural direction, I still intended what I wrote to be strange and mysterious. You ruin that atmosphere if you give too much away. Also, some of the vagueness could actually work to its advantage. It leaves the story more open to interpretation – readers can view it in a variety of ways. I won’t list any of them out, since I don’t want to influence your perspective too much (I have my own interpretation, for sure). But with the strangeness and uncertainty about the story’s reality, it gives the reader more of a chance to derive their own meaning.

     There are plenty of stories out there with tight logic, structure, and realism. The stranger ones can provide a reprieve from the boxed-in feelings we’re all used to while still offering patterns that feel familiar to us.

     The only other thing I can really point out here critically is the title. I’m notoriously bad at coming up with good titles for my own stories! It’s almost as bad as trying to tell others what your story is about. I kinda just let the mood of that morning and the overall sequence of the story dictate the title for this story. It’s not the best, not the worst – it’s at the very least functional. Hopefully I can get better at this in the future!

     There are probably more weaknesses and strengths here. But by now, I’m so blind to my own writing that I’d have to leave it alone for a week and then come back to it to pick out anything new. If you see something I missed and have constructive advice to offer, I’d love to hear it in the comments! While this flash fiction story is far from perfect, I do feel happy that I let myself try a different writing/storytelling style. I’ve always loved surreal and abstract stories, but I’ve only recently begun to let myself try writing ones of my own. This, at least, is a good first step and a good indicator of what I could do in longer works.

 

Announcement - Fast Flash Fiction Series

      Hey, everyone! I thought I'd come on here to give you guys a heads-up as to some of the future stories you'll be getting.

     I've decided to begin a series here on Two-tone Tales called Fast Flash Fiction. The idea behind this is that I'll share with you flash fiction pieces (1,000 words or less) that I wrote in a short amount of time with minimal editing. After presenting the piece, there'll be an author's note discussing the process, idea, observations, and more behind each story.

     There's a couple things that got me thinking this series would be a good idea. One is that, in case I have weeks where I can't edit one of my pre-written stories or work on a brand new short story, I can still have something to share with you. I need to keep writing no matter what and I want to keep my promise in sharing more stories with you this year. I don't intend for this series to be the majority of the stories you see on the blog, but these will appear in times when outside obligations complicate my ability to work on longer, more polished stories.

     The other reason I thought of starting this series is kind of multifaceted. On the one hand, I want to share rougher works paired with insights so you guys have an idea of my creative process and where I'm at as a writer. While work with minimal editing isn't exactly perfect for showcasing a writer at their best, it can serve as a great way to understand the writer's mind in the initial stages. When you're writing fast and limited to only so many words, your mind goes through a different kind of gymnastics to make such stories work. You also tend to leap to the first visuals your imagination comes up with and, in this sense, it becomes a very subconscious process. I won't say stream-of-consciousness, because like I said before, these pieces of flash will have some minor editing (for grammatical correctness and general storytelling touch-ups). But a lot of what I share with you may end up being very dreamlike as a result. If that's your cup of tea, you're going to love this series!

     On the other hand, this series is sort of a test for myself. Sharing any of my stories takes a certain amount of courage (I've held my breath before publishing both "Nocturne in Magic" and "Every Little Banished Thing"!). But I feel like a lot of my fears surrounding sharing come from a still-persistent foundation of perfectionism. I've gotten a lot better at overcoming perfectionism for the sake of creating whole stories. However, that doesn't mean that the need for something to be its best version doesn't get in the way of things. It has often gotten in the way of finishing novel-length works. 

     By sharing rougher work, I already accept that it's a story that's not entirely perfect. The point then becomes seeing what my imagination is capable of in a short amount of time with only so many words. Exercising the imagination like this can be very helpful in freeing your mind from self-inflicted pressure. It also is an opportunity to appreciate the imagination, which can sometimes be taken for granted in the later stages of the writing process. 

     The author's notes will serve as insights for myself to understand my current strengths, flaws, and tendencies as a writer. An exercise can be helpful, but it becomes twice as helpful when you reflect on the overall experience. And this is also part of how you grow as a writer - you have to pay close attention to what you're doing in order to learn and improve over time. For you guys, these notes will serve as a behind-the-scenes of each story!

     With that out of the way, I've already written the first in this series this morning! I need to add an author's note to it, but once that's written, you can expect to see it published sometime this week. I'm excited to take you through this series, and I'm excited for you to see what kind of stories this unique challenge produces!

 ~ Madeleine

Author Talk - Fascinations

      Every writer has certain things they can't help but circle around. Whether they're topics, character types, themes, or visual motifs (to name a few), there's usually something that haunts the writer's mind. Something they keep returning to. 

     Is this because they want to understand what it is that calls to them? To exorcise it from their imaginations? Simply because they like these recurring elements? 

     Perhaps it's a combination of those things.

     I'm certainly not immune to this myself. There are things that pop up repeatedly in my stories and most of the time, I understand why I keep writing them in. Sometimes I don't, but that never makes me shy away from them. It also makes sense, considering my imagination has a bit of a loop mentality. Just as I tend to loop a singular song over and over when I write, my imagination will loop a certain idea or theme around and around until it finally finds a story to live in. And even then, it'll still persist in some form, wanting to be recreated in a whole other story.

     I bring all this up, because I'd like to share some of these with you. Sure, you'll uncover some, if not most, of these in the upcoming publications on this blog. But as a writer who has kept so much to herself for so long, I'd like to pull back the curtain on my creativity - even if only for a glimpse or two. And if any of you are aspiring writers, I'd like to offer this as a prompt to consider what you gravitate towards in your own stories!

     Without further ado, these are just a few of my fascinations.

Loner Protagonists  This one is pretty easy to understand. Characters, in general, are the among my most important inspirations for stories. But having most of my protagonists start as people who stand alone is very reflective of my experiences. Some of these protagonists are lost in life. Others are lonely or feel like there's no place for them. Still others fear that something about them makes it impossible to find any sense of community. All of them start out alone, and while this might not happen in every story featuring a loner protagonist, helping them find a sense of belonging is something I write about a lot.

Mysteryious Men in Suits  I'm not entirely sure on this one. Perhaps the time when I read tons of Franz Kafka as a teenager had something to do with it (lots of suit-wearing bureaucratic types in those stories). Maybe, as I got older, I started associating suits with anonymity. And I'm not sure why, but I often write these kinds of characters as harboring secrets and/or working for secret organizations. They tend to show up in a lot of my weirder stories (surprise, surprise) - stories that I've struggled to either turn into something serious/literary for contests or write into a sensible existence for myself. 

Dreams  I'm an unapologetic lover of dreams in stories. I know there are plenty of lists of "writing rules" stating that dreams shouldn't be used in storytelling or are detrimental to it. I can understand the frustrations of poorly timed and poorly written dream sequences that add nothing to the story. But goodness, there are plenty of stories out there whose existence is all thanks to dreams that inspired their writers! And if dreams were so detrimental to storytelling, what would a story like Inception be without its dream sequences? Dreams are important in revealing what characters either want to hide or what they don't suspect exists within them. Sometimes they're used for more prophetic reasons, but I always enjoy dream sequences that push a character's development. That and the surreal nature of dreams can add interesting dynamics that would otherwise be missing from a story or a scene. (I do have a concept that centers all around dreams and the dangers of dream technology in relation to advertising. I don't know when or how I'm going to get around to working on it - it's a massive idea! But I might share excerpts here of what I've written for it sometime)

Reality Interrupted by the Strange  It's no secret that I love when something crashes in on reality and throws everything off kilter. Whether it's a mysterious stranger who may or may not be human, a surprise phone call from your future self, or just something that feels "off", I love finding ways to rock reality in stories. Some of it may be because of the stories I've gravitated to all my life - stories like Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. But a lot of it comes down to the fact that I feel more at home with these kinds of scenarios in fiction. It's the reason why I can struggle reading and writing more realistic, contemporary fiction. I live plenty of the day-to-day reality I've always known. Why wouldn't I want to see if there's a door leads somewhere else or see if a certain stranger will reveal a secret that changes everything?

Mundanity in Unusual Places  At the same time, I also love when very "real world" elements are incorporated into worlds/places you wouldn't expect. Especially if they're things like paperwork, hotlines, regulations, needless bureaucratic processes - anything that by all rights should have no business in a story about wizards or time travelers. When you can recognize familiar (and often frustrating) parts of reality used to comedic or satirical effect in more fantastical/surreal stories, it adds a certain relatability to whatever world you're losing yourself in. Obviously, this doesn't work all the time and some stories are best left being as different from the real world as possible. But when I think of some of my favorite stories that utilize this - especially stories like those from the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett - I remember the difference it can make.

Magicians  While this feels like more of a recent fascination for me, it isn't hard to find the roots of it. (While I'm also all about fantastical magic, I do mean sleight of hand, illusions, and stage magic with the magicians I'm talking about here) Living for four and a half years near Las Vegas as a kid, I was aware that there were magicians there. And over time, I slowly but surely developed a love for watching and trying to understand how this kind of magic worked. In my imagination, I also began to see the potential for featuring magicians in stories - their understanding of illusions and human perception make for interesting characters. You've been introduced to this fascination of mine with "Nocturne in Magic" (published here March 5, 2025) and I still have stories featuring magicians that I either haven't written yet or want to share at some point. There's one magician character in particular that has haunted my mind ever since I dreamed about him. But no matter which story I put him in, he never fits. It's as if he resists any and all attempts at being brought to life through words. The closest I've come to this is briefly mentioning him in my flash fiction story "Swallow", featured in the Dually Noted series for F(r)iction (not fully described and not present long enough to leave an impression). One of these days, I'll find a story he wouldn't mind sticking around in. 

Strangers  Many of my flash fiction stories I wrote last spring feature encounters between strangers that lead either to friendships or new perspectives on life in general. In the world as it is today, isolation and loneliness make it difficult for a lot of people to look at those around them and imagine connecting with them. They'll imagine a dozen reasons why not to approach them and move on, not knowing what kinds of interactions they might have had. I'm definitely guilty in this respect, too. In real life, it can be scary to think of looking to a stranger and potentially reaching out. But in fiction, so much is possible. In fiction, whenever I bring two or more strangers together, it's always because I want to see what is possible when those real-world fears are overcome for the sake of connecting. Whether it's for a common goal or because someone sees another person in need. Every friend you've ever had - even your best friend - was a stranger to you at one point. Yet your paths crossed and you have stayed by each other's side ever since. When you think about it, that's pretty miraculous. Obviously, this doesn't happen with every stranger we meet and not every stranger has the best of intentions. There's not even any guarantee that a nice interaction with a stranger will create a long-lasting bond between the two of you. But when I write about strangers, my focus is almost always on the potential that can be found in all of us when we look at one another and remember that we are all each other's got.

     I've been writing all this down for about a couple hours now and it's about time I headed off to other things. This was a completely unplanned & spontaneous post (in case that wasn't obvious), so if you made it this far, thanks for reading all the way through! I'm excited to share more insights into my creative process in the future. And, if you haven't been looking at my Instagram updates, there's a new story that'll be published this upcoming Sunday! It's a fairytale "remix", for lack of a better word, inspired by Snow White and it's a story I've held onto for a while now. So stay tuned!

 ~ Madeleine

Nocturne in Magic [Flash Fiction]

                                                                       Nocturne in Magic

     The rain was torrential when the magician reached the bus stop that evening. He brushed off his shoulders, casting glittering drops everywhere, and he looked doubtfully at the shelter above as the rain hammered down. His leather satchel leaned against him, its secrets safe and dry.

     He was alone for five minutes before another poor soul rushed in. Her box-dye red hair dripped, her hoodie drenched to the point it looked more black than gray. She gave an apologetic smile as she sat next to him.

     “Awful, isn’t it? Hopefully it doesn’t result in a tornado like last week.”

     The magician frowned. “A tornado?”

     “Yeah, one came just north of town…” She took in his shimmering midnight blue suit. “Are you not from around here?”

     “I’m passing through. Or rather, I’m on a tour of sorts.”

     “Are you in a band?”

     He looked down at his satchel briefly. “I’m a magician, actually.”

     “Really?” The woman’s eyes brightened. “You could probably figure out this trick I learned!”

     Before he knew it, she held out a silver dollar in her right hand.

     “See this? It’s a fairly big coin. Considering my hands are kind of small, this would be hard to vanish, right? But I’m going to try anyway.”

     She closed her fingers over the coin and turned her fist so the back of her hand faced up.

     “Because it’s magic, it needs one, maybe two, maybe even three taps to make it vanish,” she said, tapping her closed fist with her left index finger each time. “Now let’s see if it worked.”

     The magician watched as she rubbed her fingers against her palm, opening them to reveal nothing. He grinned. “That was very well done.”

     “You know the secret?”

     He nodded at her left hand, where the coin was. “Must have taken you awhile to perfect.”

     “I did mess up a lot in the process,” she replied with a shy laugh. “But I always wanted to do at least one magic trick…there’s so little magic to be found in the everyday world.”

     “It’s not that common, is it?” He paused, his eyes sympathetic. “Since you were so kind to demonstrate, allow me to return the favor.”

     Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a thin rod and a lighter. Lighting the tip, he let her gaze drink in the dancing golden flame.

     Then, with a perfectly timed flourish of his hand, the flame vanished and a red silk rose blossomed in its place.

     “How did you do that?” She stared in awe at the rose as he gave it to her.

     “Perhaps you’ll learn it and perform it for me next time. If I ever find myself passing through again.”

     “Well, then,” she said, giving him her coin, “be sure to come back.”

     Her perceptive smile and the warmth of her coin in his hand awakened something unnamable and tender inside him. The chaos of the rain felt miles and miles away as he smiled back at her.

Author’s Note

     The piece of flash fiction you’ve just read was one I wrote last spring (2024) for a contest requiring stories be 500 words or less and centered around the theme of magic. As is the nature of flash fiction, the story itself can barely be more than a moment, and you really have to think about what’s happening so you don’t exceed the word limit. Storytelling sacrifices are made because of this, yes - but it is a fun exercise in seeing how much you can tell with only so many words!

     With the theme being magic, I could have gone in a more fantastical direction (like I was inclined to). However, the venue holding this contest was based in literary fiction – as are most contests of this nature – and I knew leaning into the fantasy genre wouldn’t fit. So I instead opted for another source of magic that captures my imagination – the sleight of hand of magicians.

     Yes, for this story, I had to research a couple magic tricks to understand how I should write them out. Both the coin and the rose tricks are familiar sleights of hand you can access online and in magic books. I doubt my writing of the coin trick makes it sound half as cool as it looks, but I tried as best as I could!

     The idea of two strangers meeting at a bus stop at night was one of the first elements of this story that came to mind. In writing tons of flash fiction last spring, I realized this theme – strangers meeting and connecting – was something I revisited a lot. I’m fascinated by people and I think there’s a lot of magic in those moments when we feel a pull towards others. In an age where loneliness and isolation are everywhere, striking a chord with a stranger seems like a distant yet lovely dream. Admittedly, my own experiences with loneliness have also drawn me to write stories about characters finding their way towards friendship, love, kinship, community, comradery – whatever form of connection it is they need most.

     While this story didn’t win the contest it was submitted to, I did end up digging this out for peer review for one of my graduate classes last fall. Honestly, I’d been thinking about this story ever since I wrote it, so I was wondering if others would see anything in it. They sure did and then some. Two out of my three peer response partners said I’d written a “meet-cute” between the magician and the woman, and they wanted a whole novel about those characters falling in love! (A friend read it over and also agreed on the hints of romantic chemistry) I had no idea that the chemistry between those characters gave off that vibe, but then that’s the beauty of others reading your writing: they’ll see and interpret things in a way you couldn’t have while writing it. I’m not a romance writer by any means (more of a “romance as a subplot” kind of writer), but I do like the idea of revisiting these two characters and giving them a longer, more in-depth story someday!

     Looking back, I can see why this (and so many other flash fiction stories I wrote last spring) didn’t succeed. The biggest part of that lies in the writing itself. Literary fiction requires extra close attention to the language used and tends to favor extreme realism with a down to earth feel. None of that is really present here, despite my best efforts. And though I knew I was never going to be a literary fiction writer, I hoped I had it in me to at least be flexible in my skills. In the end, this opportunity showed me both where my natural writing style lay and showed me my limitations at the time.

     But that doesn’t mean this wasn’t a success of some kind. Writing this story made me more aware of the stories I want to tell, the characters I want to bring to life, and the moods I want to set. True, it features a much more realistic setting/premise than I’d choose to work with. Yet every time I think of this story, I recognize some of the essence of the storytelling I want to share within it. And for all its imperfections, it’s still one of my favorite stories I’ve written to this day.