In case you missed it last Friday, I posted the first part of a two-part short story.  I’m not waiting until this Friday to post the conclusion, because Fridays are slow days on teh internets.

Her Dying Wish (Part 2)

Normally, Saturday mornings were for her (as they are for everybody–as they are for you) bliss.  Waking up is a delight because you have slept well, your subconscious untroubled in slumber by the unpleasant prospect of being woken by an alarm and having to go to work and finding repose in the freedom of an entire day ahead of you to do as you please–or, if you are dying, an entire day to do the things you always wanted to do before you die.

This Saturday, however, she awoke feeling as if she had never slept at all.  Read the rest of this entry »

Authors, apparently, must also be Bloggers.  As part of my mission to re-vamp lrburt.com, I’m incorporating several regular features, including Fiction Fridays, which are dedicated to posts about writing or excerpts of my fiction projects.

Since my readers are probably more interested in what I write than in how I write it, I’ll kick off Fiction Fridays with a short story I wrote a few years ago.  Actually, it’s not terribly short, so I’ll break it into two parts to post this week and next.  It’s a humor piece, and a love story, and it stars a roll of toilet paper.  Something for everyone.

Her Dying Wish

by LR Burt

If you asked her what she wanted to do before she died, she would tell you things unsurprising and unremarkable: to travel to Europe, to write a novel, to go skydiving, maybe, if she was feeling adventurous.

If she told you this, you would believe her; after all, everybody, yourself included, wants to travel to Europe, write a novel, and skydive before they die.

Like everyone who claims these dying wishes, she never put spare change in a jar to save for that European vacation; she never sat down to write the first line of the novel that came to her as a lightning bolt of inspiration; she definitely never felt adventurous enough to sign up for a skydiving course.

No, what she dreamed of, in her secret heart, was to knock glass jars off supermarket shelves; to say swear words in places and in front of people she shouldn’t; to write a scathing letter to a person of great importance.

In short, what she wanted to do before she died was to become a menace to society.

Of course, if you asked her, she would never tell you that, because as far as she knew, she really and truly believed she was exactly like everybody else–and nobody else wanted to become a menace to society before they died. At least, no one told her otherwise. If anyone had, she might have recognized her real dreams sooner, without resistance or thinking she was going mad, and by pleasanter means than the threat of her imminent death.

Although, if she had recognized her real dreams under less urgent circumstances, she would not have realized that she’d never really lived at all, or felt so acutely what it meant to come to life. Read the rest of this entry »

“Those who can’t, teach.” John Marks is one of those who can’t. Or at least that’s what he thinks…

Piano teacher to prepubescent video game addicts…driver of a jalopy that might once upon a time have been a Honda (though no one knows for sure)…prematurely balding…divorced: hardly the life of sophistication and beauty John Marks envisioned when he embarked on a music career. He’s no catch, yet he catches the starry eye of Laura Lovelace, a music student at his old university who initiates their relationship by making fun of his name (which has something to do with a famous nudist and an American president) and disagreeing with his favorite maxim. Though he swore off singers after his ex, John’s nosey pastor’s wife urges him to step into the dubious role of mentor to Laura. Which, apparently, involves playing sheriff (literally, in costume, complete with fake guns) at the parties of substance-abusing music students–but with the bonus of securing his place as Laura’s knight in shining armor–until she discovers that his heart is protected by an entirely different sort of armor, which hid the identity of his ex. Leaving him with yet another ex–and more broken career dreams–unless he can learn to accept himself (receding hairline, rattletrap car, and all).

Ever wanted to read what I spend all that time holed up in my home office writing?  (Ever wondered if I really write anything at all?)  Now you can, because I’ve published the first 16 chapters of my novel, Songs for Piano and Voice, at Authonomy. I’m hopeful this site will help me get published or find an agent, but at the very least I expect I’ll get some helpful feedback. Which is where you guys come in.

Authonomy was set up by the HarperCollins publishing company to help emerging writers get noticed. The way to get noticed is to appear on the bookshelves and watch lists of members, and, of course, to get lots of comments. Each month, an editorial board from the publisher selects the top five rated books to be professionally reviewed. Not only is this a source of invaluable feedback, but it has even led to publishing deals.

You have to register at the site in order to comment on books posted there, but if you could spare a moment to do that (it’s a simple matter of registering your email address and creating a password and screenname) and leave a review saying you loved it, hated it, or have an idea that would make it better, I would be extremely grateful.  And if you’re an avid reader who enjoys promoting the work of aspiring authors, take a nose around the site and read and comment on other books.

Above all, I’m delighted to give this sneak peek of my work.  I hope you enjoy!