Master – 9.1

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Ch. 2     Ch. 3     Ch. 4     Ch. 5     Ch. 6     Ch. 7     Ch. 8

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CHAPTER 9

It’s the last person I ever want to see – Ashley Dupont. My first real girlfriend. We dated through high school and the first two years in college, up until I got with Loretta. She’s also Loretta’s ex-best friend. And that’s a capital ‘X’.

“Are you… carjacking me?” she says in her typical high-pitched voice.

My gun hand won’t keep steady.

She blinks, then holds her pink nails out like an invisible plate rests on the top of her hand. “Like, for real?”

My blood boils. My adrenaline rushes. A realization has dawned on me – If I leave Ashley behind, she’ll be waiting to tell the authorities who I am and what I look like, not to mention the exact license plate number of her red mustang. I have to kidnap her. I aim at the diamond in her ear.

“Scoot over.”

“This is a jay-kay, right?” She looks around. “Some new reality show or something? Carjack your ex?”

The gun fires. We both jump. I accidently shot a bullet through her blonde hair and into her headrest.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Ashley scurries over to the passenger seat, then fastens herself in.

“Holy fuck, what is wrong with you! Don’t kill me!”

“No-”

“We were together for like, 6 years! What the fuck Phil!”

My arm is locked in the air, my eyes can’t stop blinking. I’m in disbelief – nearly killed my ex-girlfriend.

“You want the car? Me? What is it?!”

I shake my head, then cough and lower into the vehicle. My knees jam into the steering wheel, but I find the lever and scoot the seat back. I start the mustang, turn it around, then head for the Sheraton Inn. I let out a breath. Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that.

“Where’s your phone?” I say.

“What’s going on? Are you gonna kill me?”

“Just give me the phone.”

“Did I do something? Why me?”

“The phone, Ashley.”

“Phil! You’re a criminal now? Why? What happened-”

“The phone goddammit!”

“It’s at home… Don’t kill me.”

I take a good look at her. She’s wearing a black mini skirt. Her legs are clamped together. “Take your phone out from under your skirt.”

“I told you, I left it at home.”

“I carjacked you. I’m not afraid to wrestle your legs apart.”

I can’t stop thinking about how close I came to cracking her skull open with a bullet. This sucks; every part of this sucks. I decide to give up on the phone thing. I’m a married man; the thought of touching Ashley inappropriately sickens me. Because I’m a married man and my wife is missing, not because I’m not attracted to her. Ashley is every man’s dream – she’s even better looking since I left her, in a materialistic sense. Her breasts perk up like they’re resting on an invisible shelf, and they’re twice as plump as they used to be. Plus now she’s got these big fisheyes like the Kardashians after applying ‘make-up contour techniques’. Ashley got work done, and the doctors knew what they were doing.

I hate every part of this. I hate that Loretta and Avery are in danger, and I hate that I’m on my way to a hotel where I’m supposed to kill whoever is in room 203. I don’t even know what I’m going to do when I get there.

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• Thomas M. Watt

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Conflict: Wouldn’t you shoot a dog if it attacked your child?

Today I want to talk about conflict, the most important element in story, the one that reels more readers in than any other writing tool.

Conflict is the reason we always hear stories about cops and black men, Kardashian gender confusion, and small parties of people who stomp on the American Flag in protest of restricted rights and status for illegals. It is also the reason we don’t hear nearly as much about the atrocities and genocides being committed by Boko Haram and ISIS as we should.

Before I had a proper understanding of conflict, I always just assumed it was good vs. evil. That’s somewhat correct, but it’s not going to get you anywhere as a writer.

At the heart of any good conflict is debate. The issues that make the news most frequently are the issues that divide Americans into two camps opposing in viewpoints but equal in passion. That’s why the cop stories are always on the news – Are these criminals being unjustly treated due to the color of their skin, or are these cops being wrongly persecuted for simply doing a difficult job?

That’s why the title of this post immediately stirs controversy – well how big is the dog? How old is the child? Did it attack your favorite kid or the one you tell friends was adopted?

The search and desire for an answer prompts you to read on. Our brains are wired to ‘figure things out’. That’s why we’re always preoccupied by the problems in our lives, and constantly infatuated with cunts and dickheads undeserving of our attention. That’s why we fall for the bullshit emotional games and can’t help but play them again.

It’s also why, in my opinion, ISIS doesn’t get as much negative media coverage as it deserves – they are animals who deserve to be slaughtered. There is nothing to debate, they are evil.

So how do we successfully implement conflict into story?

Let me start by stating the obvious – stay away from black and white. In other words, make your evil characters evil, but never have them say things like –

“Being good is for sissies. Come to my side. Money. Girls. Guns. Come on. You know you want to be bad. Light me up an addictive cigarette and pour me a drink of alcohol while I laugh smugly and smile like I’m better than you. Then lets go get skull tattoos… on our necks.”

And you also never want your protagonists to respond with anything like this:

“Stay away from me, Mr. Darkside. I don’t smoke and I never will. And I believe girls is a derogatory term for women. That’s why I call them ‘angels’.”

The focus here may seem as though it is on character, but it’s really not. Learn to thread conflict through every storytelling element, theme included. Remember, questions intrigue us. Questions are problems we need to solve, questions keep us reading. Always.

– Thomas M. Watt

Author of “A New Kingdom”

The Idiot

I walked around today and saw many interesting things. Was watching television and a show called ‘The Bachelorette’ was on. What a strange show! The people are all so in love with each other and kind. Why do they keep crying? They always complement each other and talk about their confidence. I tried having a conversation like this with a homeless man at the bus stop, but he just took a nap mid-tear. 

I watch the ‘Real Housewives’ as well. I wanted to live like these people, so I invited a bunch of housewives over to my house for wine and cake. I started talking crap on all the people that weren’t there, but everyone just got really mad at me. They liked the wine though, and the food. They drank and ate all of it and looked really happy. A little too happy, so I made like my heroines and threw a wine glass at one of them then pulled out a lot of her hair. 

They just called the cops and their was this big ordeal, and none of them came over the next time I asked.

Was watching ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’ and made it my goal to keep up. I sat around all day and talked about all my relationships with my cat. The cat meowed, and I pet it longingly. At night I decided to go out, and fist pumped my arms into the air when I entered the club. After I entered the club, they kicked me out.

I still want to be a Kardashian though, so I am going to keep trying.