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|A New Post (standard:Flash, 977 words)|
|Author: Reid Laurence||Added: Jan 10 2006||Views/Reads: 2204/1186||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This is the story of an internet author who tries hard to cope with the hardship of realizing his creations by first having his wife and friends either approve or disapprove of them. Read on and learn their inner most thoughts...|
Hi! I'm new here at this site so I thought I'd take a little time to introduce myself. My name is Reid Laurence and I'm a writer. Short stories and novels are my forte and I'm very careful about quality and content. In fact, I'm so careful that whenever I finish a piece, whether it's a book or just a short story, I first have my wife read it. I feel that she's an excellent barometer of what others will think of my work because she's read so much and after all, she's an intelligent woman with a lot of common sense about life, current events and people in general. In other words, I really trust her opinion, but when I want to break out the big guns and get some really impressive, professional advice, I turn to my two best friends... Dan Neumark and Lorin Berland. I've known these two guys since high school and believe me, they're really smart. Dan is a scientist, can you believe it? A for real scientist and Lorin's a doctor who's read so much, it'd make your head spin. But the best part about it all is that they can't get enough of my work! They think I'm the greatest thing that ever put pen to paper! In fact, while my wife's sitting here next to me as I'm writing this, I'll read off what Dan told me just yesterday in an e-mail. Are you ready for this? I don't want to make you all jealous, but here we go... it says, “Reid, your style reminds me of the great, Alexander (Dumas). We must get together and have a (beer). You're a real (wit). It's a long way from California to Missouri but I'm coming out there to shake your hand. I want to be the first to congratulate you!” “Can I see that e-mail Reid.” “Why? You never saw this one before. He's thanking me again. It's full of praise for me. They love my work!” “We've been through this before Reid. That's why you're here, remember? Now let me see the e-mail.” “Whadda you mean ‘that's why you're here?' What are you talking about?” “Just give me the e-mail would you?” “Very well. See for yourself then.” “It says... ‘You piece a (shit!) You're a combination between a (dumbass) and a little (queer). If I have to, I'll come out to Missouri myself and choke you with my bare hands! For the last time, stop sending me crap!'” “No Mary, that's not what it says at all. Dan would never say anything like that. They can't get enough of my work. In fact, Lorin gave me similar praise just the other day. Here... listen, I'll read it to you. It says, ‘In all the volumes of novels that I've been through, I've never read anything as thought (provoking) and (moving) as what you last sent. Keep up the good (work!) Your buddy, Lorin.'” “You see Mary, you're just jealous. You're trying to tear me down because you're jealous of me.” “No, I'm not jealous of you Reid. I just want you to get better. Now give me the e-mail. Let me see it.” “No, I don't wanna give it to you. Besides, I couldn't possibly be any better then I am right now. Anyway, you'll just make fun of it like the last one.” “No I won't. Just give it here and I'll read it to you.” “I have no trouble reading Mary, but if you insist, then very well. Here, take it. As if it'll make any difference. My friends think I'm great, and you just can't handle it. Why don't you tell me the truth and stop lying about my e-mail. You lie like a rug.” “I'm not lying to you. I am trying to drum the truth into that thick skull of yours. Now here... I'll tell you what it says. It says, 'In all my life, that's the worst crap I've ever read! Don't (provoke) me you little (jerk). Even (moving) won't save you! I'll track you down wherever you go!'” “That's impossible! I won't listen to lies anymore Mary. You know, at one time I thought we could co-write a novel or some short stories, but if this goes on, I won't even let you sharpen my pencils.” Click here to read the rest of this story (34 more lines)
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