it's Halloween!
that means i'm announcing the winners of my
"the Key to everything Hooray for Halloween Contest!
You're gonna love these stories. they gave me goosebumps and the heebie jeebies! perfect timing for the best holiday of the year!
click on the link below to check them out...

Hey guys! Goodreads is asking everyone to pick their choice for Book of the Year. You can use the write in space and vote for the Key to everything in the Horror category. Please vote and tell your friends to!

C'mon...give the squirrels a chance!

-a

http://www.goodreads.com/choiceawards/best-horror-books-2012#73801-Best-Horror

She worked as the stage manager for the local community theater production of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”. I didn’t bother finding a seat. I knew the acting would suck worse than the characters I imagined in my head while I read it the other night.  Besides, when I asked her if the show was any good, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Not much of a raving review in my book.

Standing at the top of the ramp behind the theater for a couple of minutes, I waited for intermission. The view down the hillside over the fence behind me caught my attention, so I lit a smoke and looked out at the lights of the valley. I took in a deep drag from the Camel 100. Blowing it out, I whispered to myself.

            If she doesn’t touch me on the shoulder, it’s over. She’s going to      
            break up with me.

Of course I hoped I was wrong. I heard the crowd coming out of the theater to stretch their legs and backs before the second act. The flicking of lighters, clomping of hard soled shoes on concrete and the occasional aluminum can connecting with the sides of the garbage can before settling on top of the rest of the trash.

I felt, more than heard her slowly coming up the ramp behind me. I didn’t turn. She leaned on the wooden fence more than an arms length to my left. She didn’t touch my shoulder.

            I don’t think we should see each other any more.

            Hm.

Such a profound response. The first girl I ever dated, my first relationship ending and I couldn’t even muster a vowel.

            I’m sorry.

             Okay.

At least I put in two syllables that time.

            You gonna come see the rest of the show? It’s…pretty good.

            No.

            Well, I should go back.

           

            Yeah.

            See you later?

            Bye.

I remember driving home listening to an old Asia cassette. Heater blasting with the windows rolled down. I sang every song at the top of my lungs. On the freeway nobody could hear me anyway. It didn’t matter.

I knocked on my neighbor’s door to see if he had any beer.

            No beer. But I got tequila.

            Perfect. I’ll spot you back.

            You okay?

            Fine. Need some drunk time.

            Come on in man. We’ll drink together.

            Need to be alone. Cool?

            Sure man. No prob.

He gave me the bottle.

I left the lights off. My dorm room window opened to the parking lot across the walkway and the lights out there were enough if the blinds were open a little. Music bled through the walls from a party down the hall so I didn’t need my stereo. I didn’t care that they liked hip-hop. My ears shut everything out for me along with the alcohol.

The next morning I drove to my folk’s house. Dad moved the scooper back and forth along the surface of the pool cleaning out leaves and dead bugs. I waved. He nodded and smiled.

            How you don’ tiger?

            Been better.

He looked me over.

            That I can see. What’s up?

            She broke up with me last night.

He lifted a scoop full of soggy junk from the water and dumped it in the bushes.

            Sorry to hear that. She say why?

I shook my head.

            Well, you’re better off without that one anyway.

            Awful cliché of you dad.

            Yeah. It’s a cliché situation though. What’d you expect?

            Something more philosophical I guess.

He dropped the scooper in the side yard. His head angled to the side and he raised his hands palm up to the sky.

            Sorry pal.

The hug made me feel a little better.

I slept in my old room that night. After mom and dad went to bed I swiped a bottle of really old Manishevitz from the bar. They weren’t very big drinkers, so there wasn’t much else to chose from other than flat champagne and half finished wine from ten years ago. She called around midnight. I don’t know how she knew where I was. The slight buzz I had going made the conversation more interesting.

            Hi.

            Hi.

            How are you?

            Wonderful. How’s by you?

            I hate it when you’re sarcastic.

            What do you want me to say?

            I don’t know.

            Then I’m just friggin’ wonderful.  Apparently you’re not my   
            girlfriend anymore so I don’t really need to worry if you don’t like       
            my attitude.

Silence.

            Well?

            What?

            You called me. What do you want?

            I…I’m back with Ronnie.

            And?

            And what?

            And I should care because?

            Why are you making this so difficult?

            Why are you calling me in the middle of the night to tell me you   
            got back together with your ex boyfriend who treats you like 
            shit?  Are you checking to see if I’m jealous? Do you want me to 
            tell you that it’s okay and you’re not being a complete and total 
            bitch right now?

            That’s not fair.

            Fair? Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to complain about fair right 
            now. You broke up with me remember? You ditched me so you 
            could go back to the douchebag who hits you and cheats on you 
            and makes you feel like scum. You’ve probably been fucking 
            him for a while behind my back anyway right? I don’t give a shit. 
            Fuck you.

Silence.

            Do you expect me to feel bad now?

            No.

            Good.

            I’m sorry.

            Fuck you.

I hung up. I wish I could say that it felt good telling her off. Getting it all off my chest.

It didn’t.

The thought of his hands on her broke my heart. I’d never felt that way about someone before her. I don’t remember breathing for the next few weeks. The pit in my stomach distracted me through all of my classes. My grades slipped. I missed rehearsals and almost got fired from a few gigs.

I went to parties. Friends took me out trying to hook me up with girls they knew through other friends. I tried. Flirting became work. I watched people dancing or making out on couches at house parties. I leaned against the wall nursing my beers watching the images of the two of them fucking in my head.

There were a few random hook ups. Sorority girls or liberal arts majors with a few too many jell-o shooters in their button pierced bellies. I probably called them by the wrong names. Which was more embarrassing for me than them.

Slowly, things got better. My new routines fell into step and I lost myself in the music of life moving forward. I went on some real dates. Some second dates. One third that should’ve ended at the second. Then I stopped and worked on being alone for a while.

I hated it.

Then it wasn’t too bad.

When I didn’t notice it anymore I fell in love.  

That’s the best part.

           

           

it is coming...

it hungers...

it waits...

patiently...

closer...

and closer...

relentless...

it is inside...

in lieu of a new blog post today, i've got something special instead. 
click on the link below to hear my reading of a chapter from "the Key to everything". i hope you enjoy it...

Don’t you hate it when you start writing, the words are flowing, the idea is coming together so naturally it breathing its life from your fingertips into the keyboard? Wait wait…wait. That’s not the part that’s hateable. What really blows, what really chaps my hide, what really cinches my nuggets, what really sucka sucka sucks… is when the wonderful beautiful most gorgeous ideas you ever had find there way through the flashing cursor and the program quits before you break through your reverie long enough to press command-S (or Cntrl-S if your on a PC).

I’ve talked about this before. Did I learn my ever-loving-flipping-flopping lesson? (Insert snarky sarcastic tone here) Of course not!

I had a fantastic idea for the first post on my websites new blog this morning. It was going to dazzle you. Embrace your inner geek and cause each and all of you to quickly forward my insightful prose to every person you’d ever known in your entire life. Those you loved, liked even a little bit, cherished and yes, those you hated would open your forwarded message titled:

“The Best Thing I’ve Ever Read In All The Days Of My Life!
No Really!
You Have To Read This Blog Post
Or You’ll Die Empty And Alone
And I Just Can’t Bear the Thought Of That!”

Think I’m exaggerating? Nope. It was that good. Problem is I didn’t save it. So you can’t prove it wasn’t now can you? So I’ll sit here typing away on this subpar jumble of words wiping tears from my once glory filled eyes knowing that my greatness will not fully be realized today by the digital d=streams connecting our world together today.

*sigh*

In all seriousness now, I did start writing a post this morning that I felt pretty good about. The phone rang before I reached the bottom of the second page and when I went to answer it, the program decided to take a shitter on me and the document rendered itself unrecoverable. Not much I could do after that message balloon popped up on the screen besides scream, stomp my feet in a childish tantrum and be angry with myself for not saving the damn thing every couple of sentences.

The good news I guess is that I am writing anything at all. It’s been a rough go for the last few months. There’s been lots of lows, but a couple of really nice highs as well. The book’s been getting some really positive reviews, some great stuff is coming down the pike here in old Key to everythingland (so stay tuned to the website for details) and My friends over at Booktrope have asked me to write a series of short story compilations and a second novel! So definitely be on the lookout for news about those very soon.

And hey, because Halloween is swiftly approaching you better sign up for our contest. That is if you want to be a character in that new book. Plus, don’t we all dream of owning a one of a kind creepy demented possessed crocheted hand made evil squirrel? You know you want one. All the cool kids do!

So send in your terrifyingly true tale of terror (minus the crappy alliteration) and enter the Key to everything Hooray for Halloween Contest!

 Bye for now!

-a

in the meantime, please visit my old page at http://www.alexkimmell.wordpress.com