(Aspiring) Author, Travis Weston

Hoping To Drop The (Aspiring) Soon Enough

To You – Letter #1

January 23rd, 1987

To You,

It was snowing when we woke up this morning to meet you for the first time. Your mother and I drove from our house to the hospital at 8 in the morning, and I’m not ashamed to admit I broke a few traffic laws on the way. As I told your mother, if they wanted to arrest me, they could do it in the parking lot. I wanted to meet you, wanted to hold you in my arms for the first time, see your little eyes, touch your hands. My son, my first child.

I just want you to know how much I love you, and I guess that’s what the letter is for, so you can be there at your birth, so the love that I’m feeling towards you can travel through space, through time, and through the many headaches and heartaches that time will dish out, and re-enter your heart in the future, to help you through all of these. I won’t be around forever, and I want you to have something of me to look back on, something for when the words I speak to you are fading away to your memory.

You were determined to come out today, and it didn’t take long for the doctor to get you out, though we did have to wait a little while before we could hold you. You couldn’t breath right. It’s ok, though, obviously you’re fine, but I have to admit I was afraid. I couldn’t imagine seeing you come into the world, fall in love with you, and then have you gone just like that.

I was the first to hold you, and I know growing up it may seem that I am a bad guy, or mean, or angry a lot, but I just want you to know, this moment, this day, that I love you, that I will always love you, and nothing will ever come in the way of that. Anything else is just to guide you to who I think you should be, who I know you can be, the best man you could possibly be. You are my son, and there’s nothing that can change that.




To You – A Serial

To You began as a challenge to myself to see if I could create a second-person narrative without it sounding horrible. This was in no small part due to reading in article on, again, Chuck Wendig’s excellent blog, Terrible Minds, titled 25 Things You Should Know About Narrative Point-Of-View, if you don’t already stalk his blog multiple times a day, you really should.

Anyway, when I was growing up, my mother would keep sporadic journals for each of us kids, my sister, my brother and I. Just recently I was given the journal she had written for me, and I read it in a single sitting. It was a trip down memory lane, and into areas of my mind that I’ve never been, places I couldn’t remember, but there I was, on paper, living those events. It’s as close to have amnesia as I hope to ever come, because it was most definitely a disturbing and unsettling event. That being said, I love that journal. It’s one of my most prized pieces of writing. I started, and failed to continue, one for my own children, though I may begin again.

It was this journal that gave me the idea for To You, a journal from father to son. It’s a short story, written entirely in second-person narrative, with the hopes that I don’t cause you the same discomfort as Mr. Wendig, who said it much better than I could:

To be honest, whenever I read a second-person narrative, I keep thinking in my head, “You are eaten by a grue.” Then I quit reading it because, y’know, grue. (Full Text)

FREE STORY: War of the Red Planet

I browse Terrible Minds (http://terribleminds.com) and this Flash Fiction Challenge was posted. I did what was said, and I rolled sub-genre Parallel Universe, setting a Martian Greenhouse and plot element to include Warring Families. Many ideas instantly came to mind, but the most vivid was the image of a man dropping dead onto the ground, with his blood running red into the dust of Mars. So I started with that, and came up with War of the Red Planet.

The body fell to the ground, stirring up the dust and coloring everything around it a dull rust-colored red. The red dirt mixed with the blood, creating a river of liquid rust that flowed away from Nathan’s kill. Just another day in the fight. Just another day on this great planet. He sometimes wished he knew what this was all about, why the fought, why he was killing people he knew deep down were family. Even if his Grandfather didn’t want to admit it.

Read it all HERE!

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