Jonathan Black

A chat with a famous author!

                      

     Paul Dalton was feeling a little down, frustration tore at him--why couldn't he get it right? His latest story just sat there like a literary lump.  He had all these ideas, but when he tried to transfer them to the page, they failed miserably. Draft after draft was be  gun in excitement, then deleted, he just had to face it, he was stuck. He got up from his desk and walked away from his computer. He definitely needed a break--maybe fresh eyes would help, although deep inside he knew the truth. He could spend a week and a half away from the story, and when he came back, he'd still have nothing. 

 

     He sat in his recliner and popped the top on the beer he'd liberated from the refrigerator. He took a long drink, letting the alcohol unwind him, but it was not enough. He knew waiting on the computer screen was his downfall. He had to figure out how to fix the dead end nightmare he'd written himself into. He absent-mindedly finished the beer and grabbed another. 

 

     Two hours later, he was definitely feeling all the beers he'd had, and his gaze swept his living room and came to rest on a picture of his hero, the author Jonathan Black. How would you write your way out, Jon-Dog?  he asked the portrait. Black would have found the solution immediately, but there was only one big problem, he'd died in the 19th century. A world class, famous writer, and Paul couldn't ask him how to solve his dilemma. He began to arise from the recliner--he'd better get back to writing, even if he dreaded it, when a voice froze his very marrow,

 

     "If you're asking my opinion, your hero should live, not die."

 

     Paul whipped his eyes around the room, looking for the voice's owner.  He saw no one, the room was still empty. "Who said that?"

 

     "Me, in the painting."

 

     Paul's eyes shot to the picture of Jonathan Black, and to all appearances it looked the same, but he noticed Black had moved, only slightly, but enough for him to notice. "Ttt-i-s is impossible!"

 

     "I assure you, my good fellow, that it's not, I'm really here."

 

     "But you're de--de--"

 

      "Dead? True, much to my chagrin--such a pity!"

 

     "But how---"

 

     "Best you don't dwell on it, suffice it to say I'm here to help you."

 

     "This is insane, here I am, having a conversation with a portrait of an author who's been dead for, what, 150 years?"     

 

     "No more insane than your killing off of the main character of the story, call it premature offing."

 

     Paul was immediately angry, "Are you questioning my judgment?"

 

     "My dear fellow, not only questioning it, I'm calling it horse manure."

 

     "Horse manure? Why, you suck!" 

 

     "Yeah, I guess a famous author like me, who sold umpteen thousands of novels in his lifetime, wouldn't know the first thing about what makes a good story. Look, I'm not saying you don't have a good idea here, but I am saying maybe a rewrite and a slightly different approach might be called for?"

 

     Immediately, Paul started to make a scathing reply, until he realized Black was right. "Why you...oh, you're right. I've always had trouble accepting criticism. My initial reaction is defensive."

 

     "Well, while I certainly understand that, you shouldn't be that way, I'm only trying to help."

 

     "I know that, but the problem is, there are so many opinions out there, I don't know whose to listen to. I mean, yours, I respect, but most people, who knows? And, I have trouble understanding the advice some people are giving. My problem is I not only get immediately defensive, but I guess I'm quick to doubt myself. I'll read a negative comment, and I'm ready to junk my writing, and then I'm leery to write something new."

 

    "I certainly understand, but if I'd of listened to my inner-doubt voice, I'd have never published, "Detective in Stone."

 

     "What? That book is a classic, that novel made you famous! Doyle had Holmes, and you had Desmond."

 

     "See what I'm trying to tell you? If I hadn't stuck to a what I thought was a good character, or a worthy idea, do you still think you'd be talking to my portrait?"

 

******

 

     The angry voices of drivers stuck in traffic on the road out front of his apartment shocked him awake. Where was he? He looked around wildly for a few seconds, until he realized he'd fallen asleep, which was a polite way of saying he'd passed out. He started to sit up, and big mistake! His head throbbed unmercifully. He felt like he was onboard The Merry-Go-Round of the Damned. All those beers! And, he'd had a doozy of a dream. Jonathan Black, the Jonathan Black, had told him to rewrite the ending, and keep his main character alive. 

 

     He glanced up at the portrait of Mr. Black, sternly watching him from 1865, and chuckled to himself, his subconscious must have been working overtime--while Mr. Black giving him advice was impossible, he agreed with it. He staggered over to the computer, and furiously started rewriting. At first, his throbbing head almost made him sick, but after awhile he didn't even notice. However he got the advice, the words just spilled onto the page. His stuckage was a thing of the past.

 

     His novel, 'Dancing at the Gates' was selling unbelievably fast. His was now a name right up there alongside Black's. He looked again at the portrait of him that he kept on the wall. Something seemed different. He couldn't be sure, but it sure looked to him that Black had just a trace of a smile on his face. Surely it must just be his imagination?

 

  

The End

              

Reviews

[Brittany Zedalis]

This was amazing! I loved the way the character's subconscious helped him figure out what to do, only to find out that maybe it wasn't just his subconscious after all.

[Michael Stevens]

Thank you much--I thank you and maybe Jonathon Black thank you?

[Marie]

THis is very good--certainly a departure from your strange, angry and often imbecelic characters. Not that I don't enjoy reading about them, but it's good to read something more serious from you.

[Michael Stevens]

Thanks Marie--I tried to be both serious and humorous with this!