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Just something I came up with as I went along. Not much to it, just a writing excercise, more than anything.

The Lunatic is in my grass. He barks, and he screams, and he shrieks, and he rolls, and he's destroying my flowers. He's destroying my petunias. My wife is next to me, writing her... whatever she is writing. And I feel lonely. She seems so fucking-- I don't know. I have to talk to my neighbour about that goddamned dog, 'cause it's really getting in my nerves. I kicked him yesterday. I did. And the thing went-- It was so fucking hilarious. Oh, you should've been there. He flew. The little bastard flew like two meters, and then hit the ground running. That scared him away. He's got a bruise in his stomach now. The neighbour suspects it was me, but all he has is his low opinion of me. Why is it that when something terrible happens to his stuff he always blames me? Sure, I hit the dog, but it would be nice, just this once, for him to accuse someone else. I called him a crazy person. He was talking about sending me to jail. Over a dog. A fucking dog.

I should kill that dog.

It's not like I'm cruel, I mean, the dog's a beast. With those red eyes of him, and the fangs that look like they could rip your heart out of your chest, and-- Everybody's scared of him. And that's why they never do anything. Mary, and John, and the Glovers, they always 'shoo' him, but when the hour, of the hour comes, they're all scared of him. But he's a pansy. I know he's huge, but the dog's as gay as they come. By now, I've got a system with him. Every time he comes into my yard, I just jump towards him. Sometimes I let out a little scream. Scares him right back to the neighbour's. The homo.

I think John's a homo, which is kinda weird, I guess. I don't have a problem with it, but he should've told me. I should have known. And now he's living with a guy, and they're working out together, and his son is my son's best-friend. I don't want that kind of people around Derek. How do I tell him not to hang out with his best-friend anymore? I liked John's wife. I thought she had left him because he cheated on her, at least, that's what he let me think. I told him: "What? Where you playing outside your sandbox?" And he laughed, and patted me on the back, and-- He patted me on the back. But I'm not even sure if he is one, right? I just overheard my wife talking to Denise about him. He told her it was great that he was coming out, and living with his boyfriend, and now I know why they spent so much time together, and damn! That's a great weight off my mind. I thought they were fucking around. But, still. When did she become so... tolerant, or whatever. Modern. Is it the writing? Hmph. It's probably the money. She thinks she's modern, and posh, ever since she got the money. Ever since she started making... My wife makes more money than me. And she's a science-fiction writer, and she makes more money than me. Is there anything more pathetic than that?

Tried to read one of her novels once. I don't think it was science-fiction. I don't think it was really a story. She used weird words, and stuff. Things I didn't even understand, and... I she doesn't even talk like that when I'm around. Does she think I'm stupid? I bet she thinks I'm stupid.

I like Denise. She's really nice to me.

"Are you going to do something about that dog?" She's turned away from her computer, and is looking at me, expressionless. I shake my head, and give my back to the closed window. "It's been barking all day long, I... Aren't you going to talk to Jim about him?"
I sigh, and look at the little beast again. The Lunatic is taking a shit, and it's green, and it's big, and it looks smelly, and I think about my marriage. "I've already talked to him, but he won't listen. He's an asshole. We should get everybody to complain. It's like... I'm fucking invisible to him."
"Oh, baby, you're not invisible. Look, at least get him to stop barking."

Go do this. Go do that. I quit my job. Why did I quit my job? I remember I was so happy. They had given her thirty-thousand for her first book. I was static. It was all she ever wanted, and all I ever wanted was for her to get whatever she wanted. So, I encouraged her, and I told everybody about her book, and then the numbers came. Number six. It was the number six book in the country. And then, she got a million out of her second book, and it was also a top ten book, and then... Why did I quit my job? I think she told me to do it. I think she told me, hey, you don't need to work anymore. Does that make her the man? Am I a woman? I bet John's a better man than I am. At least I have Derek, I mean, at least I still have him around. I get to talk to him, and I get to teach him, and play with him, and show him movies. He loves movies. I wish he gets to be a movie director, or something. That's when all of this book business pays off. That's when it'll happen.

Maybe I can act in one of his films. I always wanted to do that.

"Get the fuck out of my yard, you little shitter!" The dog barks at me, and I think he'll jump, and I'm hoping he does, because I've got a fucking bat in my hand, but all I have to do to scare him away is rise it up. Someone is faintly clapping in the distance. It's that guy. That fucking guy that John is... I wave at him, smiling half-heartedly. "Don't worry," I tell him, shouting "you get used to it after a while. It's just that I like to have a little fun with him." He nods, and goes back inside his house.

Maybe they're brothers. Yeah. That's it. Maybe John, and him are brothers.
there are many problems in our times
but none of them are mine




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"getting in my nerves"
*on*

"I kicked him yesterday. I did."
Haha! I like this, it's like we don't believe you, but when you say "I did" we do. Wow, I think that sounds really confusing.

"Where you playing outside your sandbo"
Were or where?

"I she doesn't even talk "
???

By now I see that this guy is a total jerk. Awesome characterization!

"John, and him"
John and him


I liked the ending. It showed his nasty nature while being comical and ending the piece, which was good overall. It wasn't masterful or really anything to send to the New Yorker, but it is something to brag about. I loved it. It's really, really good.
my world isn't only beautiful
it is so far away




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This is really very good, one of those rare stream-of-conscience pieces that just flows.... it certainly deserved more then the tepid (one post) reception is seems to have gotten.

No, actually I've started liking this better since I wrote that last paragraph. This is a fantastic example of how to write one of these types of stories. The standard fare is often really difficult to read, depressing and really makes you detest the narrator.

+In this case, you developed your main character perfectly, I had a very full idea of this character in my mind. I also rather invisioned that I was hearing this in an interrogation room, listening to a killer unabashadly telling why he killed his neighbor. Or maybe his wife. But thats just me. Point is, you really made a believable character who wasn't merely restricted to the story.
+You also didn't deal in cliches, there was little introspection, which can really bog down a story. Your "man" focuses on other people, but through his perspective we gain crucial knowledge about this man himself. Tricky to do, you suceeded admirably.

A couple other notes:
+ Part of this (if not the whole thing) should be performed.
+ Loved your plot. Interesting to be trapped inside the mind of someone who is himself trapped. (In suburbia I thought)
+ I'm curious as to where this character would fit in. The military perhaps. Or jail...

This is really great, glad I got the chance to dig this up.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost

It cost $7 million to build the Titanic, and $200 million to make a film about it.
The plastic ties on the end of shoelaces are called aglets




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I am not sure if a married man would use the word 'gay'.

"I she doesn't even talk like that when I'm around." This did not make sense.

But yer, the whole ctream of consciousness thing is interesting and maybe you could throw in a short story or something. We shall see.




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Man, I'm really glad more people read this. And yeah, I'm aware of the nonsensical sentences. They're just typos. I think I typed this directly to the post, I mean, I don't have a copy of it in my files so I must've. That explains why it isn't polished. I would edit those things out, but now that it's been so long and people already noticed there are mistakes... It kinda seems like cheating.

Thanks for commenting though.
there are many problems in our times
but none of them are mine




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Yeah, this is pretty great. It's so real, it's Stephen King-ish.

I agree that is sounds like someone would say while talking to the police after they were brought in for killing their neighbor or beating him up or whatnot.

Right on; I have a perfect picture of this guy in my head. He's sounds like someone from Idaho.
'Merikuh!



Surround yourself with people who are serious about being writers, and who will tell you, ‘Hey—you can do better than this.’ Who will be critical of your work, but also supportive. And who will not be competitive in a negative way.
— Isabel Quintero