For the next 5 days my first book “Crossing” will be available for free on Kindle. It’s a short noirish fever dream filled with love, death, and violations of reality taking place in Baltimore, MD.
Any reviews or feedback would be awesome. I hope you enjoy!
Baltimore Maryland’s hospitality industry generates over 5 billion dollars in annual revenue; about the same as the city’s drug trade. Aggressive gentrification has transformed the landscape into an ever changing kaleidoscope of narcotics and death that outsources those valuable commodities throughout the eastern seaboard, but that’s not what this story is about. This story is about a girl named Jane and a girl named Kelly and how I successfully failed to murder either of them; it also happens to take place in Baltimore.
This is my new book! It available for free on Kndle for the next five days at: http://www.amazon.com/Crossing-ebook/dp/B00D3M6DBM/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1370003284&sr=1-1&keywords=crossing+christopher+wilt
Paperback versions for 3.99 at https://www.createspace.com/4196348
I would describe this as surreal noir. It is mechanical in nature and operates like a paradoxical clock, but it’s also entertaining and I hope at least occasionally amusing
It wasn’t until much later that he realized where he was going. The building in front of him might as well be completely featureless for its lack of personality. A moderately well dressed man sat on the planter near the entrance and surveyed him suspiciously as he approached. No words needed exchanging, just the mutual nods generally resulting from extended eye contact. She was small and wore pastels to cheer herself up, but was somewhat bashful by nature so doubly aware of the attention her clothes drew. He sat in the waiting room and attempted to relax so that she might relax, because increased tension in these situations can compromise outcomes. Once he entered the inner office the receptionist’s nervousness seemed more warranted than he had given her credit. Following the not altogether difficult procedure he left the building the way he came, passing the moderately dressed man, who upon being passed, turned and re-entered the building.
He saw a bar across the street, and lacking many more appointments for the week, walked over and ordered a drink. The bartender regarded him warmly and made conversation about the weather and unremarkable current events. After a few drinks, the bartender put a pack of matches beside the drink and gestured to the back of the room. He picked up the matches, read the instructions on the cover and then walked to the bathroom in the corner. It took a few more minutes than he had anticipated, but he eventually returned to his stool and struck up a conversation with the receptionist from across the street. She had apparently only been in the city for a month and didn’t really know anyone, but for some reason had no problem explaining in detail all the events in her life that had led up to this point.
I was going to write some big fiction post about a girl and a boy being tortured in high school and developing a system to cope with their ostracization etc… Instead I’m just going to leave the details to the imagination, because I honestly hate writing anything about teenagers, high school, or any such YA material. So long story short; they get tortured in a variety of ways, eventually talk and becomes friends of sorts, design the system illustrated above, become briefly romantically involved, then as their egos get out of control become intensely cruel themselves, ultimately waging an epic high school conflict against one another in which they arm their respective cliques and wage a drug fueled gang war in which the boy is mortally wounded and as the girl holds his head and watches him die realizes the folly of her narcissism and stabs herself in the stomach; dying beside her love and only true friend in the midst of an all out riot in the hallways of their high school. The scene fades out on the smoke filled hallway as the fight rages on around their embraced corpses.
So if anyone wants to write that long form knock yourself out. Let me know and I would be happy to help. I’m unwilling/unable to write in the style that the story requires. I could probably do it as a play, but I’d probably lose interest in that as well. I feel like there’s probably a movie from the eighties with a somewhat similar plot line (sans drugs, violence and death), but I can’t think of its name.
Portfolio submitted, letter of intent mildly intimidating, references incomplete and pending, resume passable, maybe yes, maybe no; work will continue regardless. Books to write, things to build, skills to learn, etc… Because these camp counselors aren’t decapitating themselves, the man in the trash chute needs to be addressed before he is compacted and she has to throw herself out a window sometime in the near future, at least before the final assault on the asteroid base, and certainly before Corrine flees to France to escape the murderous Heather who has been instructed by their employer to eliminate her at any cost.
The drive back to the city was all nerves. He wanted to tell Phillip, but wasn’t sure he would even care or take action. Phillip would probably just look sad and continue tinkering with his robot or editing his asteroid book. Edward’s conclusion was that he would not tell Phillip, but would move out, and while this would certainly leave Phillip in the unfortunate position of having to maintain the rather high rent, Edward couldn’t see the point in his remaining there as nothing but financial support when he could better serve his niece and brother by unobtrusively taking some responsibility in her development as a person; that is to say that he would watch over her and attempt, and this would be the most painful part, to befriend her adoptive parents even though they were likely 12 to 18 years his senior.
Edward also peripherally considered that giving himself this purpose might provide him with something of a more interesting track in life. Having some undisclosed mission would provide his ego an undeniable boost which could facilitate his learning some skill other than working in a FedEx warehouse. He would ask Phillip out to a bar and break the news of his exit in a friendly cordial setting; Phillip will doubtless not care, but depressively stare at the bar and state that it’s okay and Edward had to do what he had to do. Phillip’s sense of isolation, while more theoretical when living with someone, will become undeniably real upon Edward’s exit. The question for Phillip now is what to do with himself and his time.
Dominic returned home to an empty house. His parents were at work and his younger sister was in the village with her friends. The ordeal in New York had left him feeling helpless and hollow. So many men lost in a fruitless attempt to protect the city. He wishes he was among the dead; he was in fact the one giving orders, and tomorrow he had to visit the families to inform them of their son’s and daughter’s brave sacrifice in the face of a relentless and reasonless foe. They will look at him and wonder why he’s standing there; they assume him a coward who left their children behind to die and they would be right. He hadn’t held the line and when he could have been fighting alongside his neighbors in the heart of a darkening city, he thoughtlessly followed a girl he would never see again out of some misplaced sense of hope that her acts had instilled in him.
Phillip re-reads the section several times and is taken aback at Dominic’s majesty. The character was obviously ripe for arcing and would be the proverbial carrot to lead Phillip on through the story. Edward was gone which meant so was Phillip’s only source of casual editorial opinion. He had taken an apartment in the suburbs and pretty much become a person altogether different from the brother Phillip had grown up with. Edward was suddenly talking about saving money, going back to school and getting involved with the community. Phillip assumed that all of this spontaneous evolution was due to Edward developing a crush on a girl, and assumed that Edward didn’t want to talk about it because acknowledging his new preoccupation would be admitting defeat in the search for his niece; a pursuit in which Phillip had admitted defeat some time ago.
It is 4:30pm when an explosion rocks the lobby of the Metcalfe Mining building. A city bus careens into the entrance of the parking garage, blocking both entry and exit. Another explosion on the upper floors of the building shatters several rows of windows. A figure in black sits perched on the rooftop across the street looking through the scope of an assault rifle for movement in the smoke. She does not blink when the bus explodes, but continues to watch the door to the CEO’s office.
This is the fifteenth time he has rewritten this section. He started with a frontal assault on the building which dead ended with a ridiculous interrogation scene. Subsequent attempts yielded little more than sequences reminiscent of everything from The Raid, to Ocean’s Eleven. His goal was a more kinetic scene than any thus far and this was proving utterly maddening. Staging the action from the bus driving robot’s perspective might prove more fruitful, but he tended to doubt it. Undue pressure from expected productivity was causing him to hallucinate robot butlers in the corners of his apartment and asteroids floating above his building. He spends the remainder of the evening looking up the best ways to steal a bus.