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Life: It's Just a Phase: A Collection of Short Stories

Life: It's Just a Phase: A Collection of Short Stories

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Life: It's Just a Phase: A Collection of Short Stories

Longitud:
95 página
1 hora
Publicado:
Jan 27, 2020
ISBN:
9781922381484
Formato:
Libro

Descripción

Life is just a phase. We're born, we live, we explore, we experience and we die. This compilation of short stories, poems and art ranges from horror to comedy to erotica to personal narrative but the one thing that they all have in common is that they address the experience of what it is like to be human.

Publicado:
Jan 27, 2020
ISBN:
9781922381484
Formato:
Libro

Sobre el autor


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Life - Sarah Davis

Table of Contents

Blvck Coffee

The Magician 

Le Baiser de la Mort

The Executive

Stop Watch

Bring in the Clowns

There's a Place in France

VVTCHS

We Are the Witches You Cannot Burn

Glam·our

Beltane

How Little Red Became the Huntress

3232 Straightford Ave

Thanks for Riding with Jesus

The Hearth

And Home

Introduction to Where There is No Night: The Last Moments Before Dusk

About the Author

Introduction

I dreamed of being traditionally published ever since I was a little girl. I never saw myself as an indie writer and self-publish was never my dream. But when I launched my Kickstarter to convert my novel, Where There is No Night: The Last Moments Before Dusk, into a graphic novel, I made a collection of short stories the reward for backing me at the twenty-five dollar level. And when my Kickstarter succeeded, I was suddenly faced with the task of self-publication. So here I am. And here you are, reading my work.

This is a collection of short stories, poems and artwork that were completed over the course of four years. These works tell the patchwork story of my journey from unwillingly being set free from a loveless engagement to rebuilding my life as a creative. Some of these stories hold kernels of truth with events, names, people and places rearranged. And some of these stories are pure fiction. But all contain feelings I’ve felt in my heart because feelings, above all, are the soul of creativity.

You will find a wide variety of short stories in this compilation ranging from horror to comedy to erotica to personal narrative to speculative fiction but they all fall into the genre that I have coined as witch fic. You will also find photos I’ve modeled for and photos I've taken, public domain works of art I copied and original poetry. 

I’ve used works that are copyright free for the visual art in this compilation. These works do not belong to me and they are in the public domain. The cover of Bring in the Clowns and How Little Red became the Huntress as well  as There’s a Place  in France were all copied from the works of Charles Gesmer, a 1920s fashion designer. The piece VVTCHS is copied from Alphonse Mucha.  

There are several people I’d like to thank because without them, this book would not be possible. First of all, I’d like to thank all of my Kickstarter backers for believing in my work. This book would literally not have happened if these individuals didn’t believe in my dream of creating a graphic novel. So I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to: The Creative Fund by Backerkit, Uyen Nguyen, Brian Schlosser, Seth Osmun, CJ Marsicano, Lucretia Moore, Seth Thomas, Tomoko Uwazumi, Laurie Stark, Jessica Faye, Eve Burkhead, Jesse Livingston, an anonymous backer and my mother, Deborah Davis.

Next, I would like to thank Amanda E.K., the editor-in-chief of Suspect Press, a Denver literary magazine, and all my classmates in Amanda's drop in writing class. Amanda and my classmates (a.k.a. my muses) really pushed me to believe in myself and take my writing to the next level. Their tremendous support gave me the strength I needed to achieve my goal of running a successful Kickstarter. They’ve been at the finish line cheering me on after long, writing marathons and they always encourage me to continue to raise the bar higher and higher. So thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful Denver creatives!

Life is a mystical experience and the vein runs throughout this entire collection. So thank you to Sara Long of Bellawillow Photography, who captured me at my witchiest. Her featured photos include The Magician, Beltane and the cover for Glam·our.

I would also like to thank Linda Anderson, owner of Salvage Design Center, for helping me amass a large collection of vintage and antique photos that made the collage on the cover of this book possible.  

Lastly, I’d like to thank D., who had his hand, either directly or in the form of inspiration, in the creation of  many of these short stories, as well as Patrick Almeida, who encouraged my poetry writing through critique exchange.  

And of course, dear reader, I’d like to thank you for giving me a chance to weave tales about the mystery of human existence and the workings of the human heart for your entertainment. Our paths crossed for a reason.  

Blvck Coffee

Andy pulled back the cover and climbed into bed. It was a little after midnight on a Friday. I scooted close to him and pushed my body up against his. 

Ugh no, not tonight, he moaned. 

Why not? We haven’t had sex in over a month?

That’s not true! We’ve had sex since then.

Really? I scoffed. When?

Andy sighed, "I’m just too tired. I wish you were here during the day. That’s when I get horny.

I thought about Andy getting high and  his dick getting even higher while he jacked off to whatever he jacks off to when I’m not home. I had no idea what he wanted and he refused to tell me.

I don’t even know why I sat up and waited for you to come home, I mumbled and turned over.

The room fell silent. I heard  the swish of  a car passing by outside.

 Andy’s breathing changed as he escaped an intimate encounter with me in the arms of sleep. All I could do was lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

Is this really my life.

I thought about touching myself but I didn’t want to disturb Andy. 

 My thoughts wandered to Daren and I felt lonelier. 

I just want to talk to you again. 

  I slipped out of bed and crept into the living room where my altar sat tucked away in a corner. It was my sacred space; my place of refuge. I spent time at my altar every

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