For this installment of “Beginnings of Stories I will Never Write,” we pick a story that I tried to write based on a final line I came up with.
During the last scene in this story, which was never written, Chris was supposed to be stopped by an evangelist who would ask him if he’d found Jesus yet. Normally Chris would respond “I didn’t know he was missing” but this time he says “You know what, I think he found me.”
I imagine there was going to be some warming of hearts and perhaps some supernatural chicanery. Nevertheless it did not ever get written.
I started this in September of 1999. At that time, I had been going out with my wife Mary for only about 1 year, was a Sophomore in college, and was listening to music like “Tubthumping” by Chumba Wumba… Okay, shit, now I gotta go spend some money on iTunes.
It was the third day after the stranger’s death, and Christopher still felt like shit. It was a Sunday, not an abnormal fact in and of itself. In fact, Christopher was quite used to Sundays, having spent about one seventh of his life getting to know them. The thing that bugged Chris the most this particular Sunday was the steady stream of churchgoers that he knew would pass by his house in a little less than half an hour.
I was trying to think of features for my blog — something that would keep me writing content from time to time. And I came up with this one:
BEGINNINGS FROM STORIES I WILL NEVER WRITE
I’m constantly starting stories and then not finishing them. I’ve done this since high school. I imagine I’ll continue doing this until I die.
So to put those to some use, I’m going to post the first paragraph or so of these stories. My hope is that they, on their own, conjure up an image of what the story would have been — which is the ultimate goal of a good beginning.
So here’s my first one:
Even on his deathbed, Arthur Pendragon Flemmings never quite came to forgive his mother and father for naming him. Though the years had softened the blow somewhat, and though throughout his life he loved his mother and father as dearly as a child could, he never quite came to grips with it. As a child he was completely incapable of explaining the name to his peers. Even years later in grad school, law school, or in his short span of time behind the bench — Art could only really shrug his shoulders, grin, and admit that yes, his parents really were just that nerdy. Of course, he always thought, it could have been worse.
At least they hadn’t been Tolkein fans.