One of the things that I remember from my youth is wrestling with the older brothers of my friends. I'd like to say that I won, but that would be a lie. I usually lost, badly.
They were bigger and stronger and the harder I struggled, the harder they tried to really get me. I don't think that they were trying to really hurt me, but in my neighborhood you didn't mess with the bigger kids unless you were willing to take the punishment that they would dish out.
It might be a pink belly, a noogie, a swirlie or some other creation that was designed to torment others, but you got it.
I hated losing, hated giving up. Maybe it was just an overinflated ego, but I would routinely refuse to give in and can remember being forced to tears on a number of occasions. And since I have a memory like an elephant years later I took great pleasure in demonstrating to one of the boys that we all hit puberty and sometimes payback can be a bitch. ;)
Anyway, I am still trying to figure out where I want to take Fragments of Fiction. It has been a while since I really dug into it and it is time to try again. It is time to pull it out and dust it off. I have completed around 20,000 words and I think that I can make it into something, and if I cannot I'll scrap part of it and start over.
I am not quitting.
So my friend allow me to present the newest blog here at the Shack, it is called Fragments of Fiction- Version 178th. If you have not read any of it I invite you to do so and even if you have I am open to your doing so again.
In other words, feedback is appreciated. Remember that it actually starts with this post.
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