I’ve been keeping busy with my writing project. I’ve had two rounds with an editor that I found on Fiverr. $40 bucks for 80 pages. I hope the old adage, “You get what you pay for,” doesn’t apply here.
In the past I used an awesome editor. But this is just a little side-project that I’m trying to churn out fast. The girl I’m using is a Univ. of Florida graduate who majored in English, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Here’s a little sample from the collection. It’s a flash-piece I wrote when I was volunteering for Lumina–a group of volunteers who write hospice patient’s life’s stories right before they pass away. (If you can make it on time.) This one has nothing to do with a patient.
That Great Gretsch Sound
Looking at the old orange hard-shell case, you can tell that what’s inside has been around a while. Scratches run deep like a road map of the places it’s been.
Opening the worn brass latches unleashes a waft of smoke that gently hits the nose. When the lid folds back, the crushed-orange velvet encases a dark orange sunburst 1939 Hawaiian-style Gretsch guitar. The floating tortoise pick-guard is held on by a small brass bracket that violently protests when you strum too hard. The neck tappers from the body to the black head stock, which suits my small fingers as I press down the silky smooth strings on the ebony fret board.
But the best part of all is the harp like sound when the Old-Girl is strummed ever so gently. The vibrations call out, “Please don’t put me back in that case Mister. I’m beggin’ ya.”