Why Blackbirds Don't Eat Wax Fruit by Dan O'Shea

I'm super thrilled to have Dan on the blog today. Not only is Dan an incredible writer,  he also has the voice of an... angel. Okay, maybe not an angel angel, but he definitely has a voice that can make your ear tickle with delight. He's the man behind the voice of bad-boy character Oscar Martello, and soon to be the voice behind the audio version of his novel PENANCE.

FEEDING KATE opens with his short story WAX FRUIT, and Dan's post today shares the back story behind the story of Hilary Martin's depressing paranormal-like gift, heartbreaking loss, and sweet revenge. 

Why Blackbirds Don't Eat Wax Fruit

So my story for Feeding Kate… yeah, kinda plagiarized that. Well, not exactly.

Let’s back up. You’ve read Chuck Wendig’s Blackbirds, right? And Mockingbird?  (Well if you ain’t, you oughta.) See Miriam Black, the protagonist of those books, she’s got this problem. If she touches you, she sees where and how and when you’re gonna die. Which, if you get to thinking about it, would kinda suck.

Thing is, I read Blackbirds and, as much as I loved it, something kept eating at me. Miriam’s reaction to her “gift” was to hit the road, become a drifter. On one level, I get it. She avoids any permanent attachments, so those folks she does touch, well, maybe it hurts less to know all the depressing details of their final breaths if they stay strangers. And besides, sometimes she finds ways to cash in on her knowledge.

Problem is, that’s exactly the opposite of how I’d react. I’d never leave home again, never touch anybody again if I could help it. I’d become a cross between Howard Hughes and Emily Dickenson.  Maybe it’s a matter of personal temperament. Chuck seems a tab extroverted, seems like the sorta guy who’d happily wander the streets pantsless starting random, obscenity-laced conversations with everyone who passes. I’m half way to being Howard Hughes as it is. And not the rich genius part either. The never-leaving-the-hotel, don’t-have-much-use-for-people part.

Which gave me this problem. I had Chuck’s kick-ass death-touching premise rattling around my head, but I had this entirely antithetical take on it, which left me with a story-telling itch I really wanted to scratch. So I dropped the Chuckster a line, asked if he’d mind if I riffed in his sandbox. Chuck graciously gave his permission, and Wax Fruit was the result.

Hilary Martin, my protagonist, seems about as far removed from Miriam Black as she can get. Instead of Miriam’s hellish dysfunctional upbringing, Hilary was raised in a relatively loving home.  And she’s a genius. OK, she’s got her issues, suffers her tragedies, but she’s got a lot going for her that Miriam doesn't  Funny thing though, the story ends up in a place where it just might have if it had featured Miriam. I can almost hear Ms. Black giving out a dark chuckle and saying “Thought you could hide from death bitch? And you think you’re the smart one.”

Anyway, hope you like the story. Hope you like the whole collection, ‘cause it’s pretty fucking hot.

Just like the chick who inspired it. 

Dan O'Shea is the author of PENANCE and the short fiction collection OLD SCHOOL along with the forthcoming novel MAMMON. Dan is represented by Stacia Decker at the Donald Maass Literary Agency. You can find him on the web at www.authordanoshea.com.

Feeding Kate: A Crime Fiction Anthology is available from Amazon. All proceeds from Feeding Kate benefit the Lupus Foundation of America.

My First Literary Love by Dan O'Shea

My First Literary Love: Amazon Adventure by Willard Price

I guess you should remember the first time. Even if it was just awkward adolescent fumbling, fumbling, then a boundary broached that had been long defended – what was it for her, the point of no return? That her breasts were exposed finally, or that her panties where now linked garters and her mysterious flower bloomed open and witnessed in the dim glow of the distant streetlight that fogged through the sweat-tinted windows of your car? The no’s had stopped. The hands that used to push you away, used to grab your wrists to deny your touch at those last sacred places, they now were grabbing something else, coaxing it, pulling it forward, the surrender complete.

You should have known that surrender was different, the surrender of a friend, the granting of a privilege, of a sacred trust, but you had fought that hormonal war so long, were so close finally to victory, that you pressed your suit like a blitzkrieg that roared past any nicety of foreplay, and she bit her lip the whole time, fought the pain the whole time, whispering “It’s OK, It’s OK” in your ear while she held you, as if she better understood your own unfamiliar demons, knew intuitively the price of her own surrender and still you thrust away, telling yourself that her gasps, her tortured rigidity, that they were the erotic fruit of your prowess, that they stemmed from her pleasure and not her pain, knowing the whole time that you should slow down, should back up, you should begin again as her ally and not her conqueror, but Nirvana was too close, the perfume of that longed for fantastical Elysium scenting the air in her musk, and so you believed your own lies long enough to make those last thrusts, and exploded as much in shame as in pleasure, with her holding you still, with her still saying “It’s OK, It’s OK” trying to make you believe that you had not betrayed her, that you had not crushed that fragile gift that she had so tremulously offered, that you had not despoiled with greed and lust and selfish appetite not only her moment, but your own, a moment that neither of you could have back, that could have been a shared wonder, but that now, for her, would always be an wound of regret and that for you would always be a thoughtless and brutal sin  You should remember that. You should remember your first time.

What’s that Sabrina? Not THAT first time. Sorry. My bad.

Summer camp, southern Wisconsin, July, 1967.  That break they made you take in the afternoon, an hour in your bunk, the stream of activities – of fishing or canoeing or archery or shooting – broken long enough to let you remember that you were still a boy, just eight. That you were countless miles from home, away, your family, from all familiar things, That, as fun as camp was, as capable as you had already become with the mask of machismo, you were still just a kid who missed your mom, who didn’t get a letter from home today, who wanted very much to cry.

But you had the book. Amazon Adventure by Willard Price. A story with other kids, other adventures, rendered so truly, so perfectly to your eight-year-old brain that this rectangle of cardboard and paper anesthetized the pain of homesickness entirely, transformed that dreaded break that had made you prey to your fears into a treasured hour, a refuge in each day, where you could be away from not only your fears but from the stress of being friends with these small, sometimes savage strangers, where you were god of your own universe.

Where you learned that books were magic, a balm, another plane, a realm apart and to which you could transport yourself anytime you liked, and to which you would now always partly belonged.

That was my first time, Sabrina. Not crime fiction, I guess. That came later. But that was my first love, and if I had it here today, I would open myself to it entirely in renewed surrender.  

Dan O'Shea is a Chicago-based crime writer. His debut novel, PENANCE, will be published by Exhibit A on April 30. You can preorder now or snap up his short fiction collection OLD SCHOOL from Snubnose Press if you're looking for a taste. Dan would be handsome for an older gent if he could just stop breaking his nose. 

What Happens When I Sleep...

I've never really been disappointed in my dreams. Most of the time they are a mixture of all the things I've been reading about and thinking about and talking about. Most of them are related to books I've recently read, or stories that I've recently encountered. When I like something I've read it resonates with me; stays with me a little while. Lingers. And then there are times when more than one book or character pop up in a dream, and even without a word being spoken I know what's being referenced.

For instance last night I had a dream wherein...

I was dressed in an Elizabethan dress that seemed two sizes to small for my breasts, and in my hands I held a book.  Bound in leather, the pages contained a graphic novel... outlining in specific detail the story that I read last week about a vampire named, Lillian.

So what the heck did I read???

I read a short story last week written by Stephen Blackmoore. Just a short story... it wasn't a graphic novel.  Stephen said he shared it so that we could get an idea of how he world builds... I asked some questions. He answered. But I'll be honest with you, I still have more questions. Why is there a hierarchy in this vampire world? Why isn't the hierarchy taking care of their own? Where will Lillian go? How will she continue to fight them so she can stay alive? Who the heck is the hierarchy and why won't Brady die???   Lillian was the feature of the graphic novel I was reading.  She was powerful. She was badass. She was everything I could never be. You can find the story -----> HERE. You should read it... And you should mark his website and check back frequently. The guy's got the goods. 

So what's up with the Elizabethan dress?

My favorite man, Dan O'Shea, is writing an Elizabethan Noir novel on his website. ROTTEN AT THE HEART is being written one chapter a day on his blog. And what the heck is this about?  It's a murder mystery set in Elizabethan times...  Lord Chamberlain has been found dead, and his son, suspecting a murder has taken place, pretty much forces Shakespeare (yes, William Shakespeare) to find the culprit. And how will Shakespeare do this?   By claiming he's gathering information so he can write a play in honor of Lord Chamberlain's death. I call this novel-in-the-making my... daily dose of delight.  It really is amazing and I would encourage you to mark his a page and read along with me.  You can find it -----> HERE.

So this is what I've been reading... and of course, dreaming about this week. Enjoy.

Falling in Love with Oscar Martello...

I know, I know. How can I possibly be confessing my love for Oscar Martello when I've already given my heart away to so many others before him?  That is what you're thinking, right?  I'll be the first to admit that after I finished with the Reacher series I was a little depressed.  Wasn't really quite sure what I was supposed to do with myself. And it was about that same time (October 26, 2010) that cozy  mystery author, Hannah Reed, asked on her Facebook page if any of her readers would be interested in an "older male" protagonist. As you can probably guess, I left a comment: I hit 40 this year and started finding older men attractive...I also felt awkward lusting after a fictional character that was clearly too young for me. I say "Heck YES" to older protagonists!  True story.  I don't even know how many books I had to read before Jack Reacher finally caught up to my age...but the guy will probably still be in his early forties when I hit the dreaded 5-0! Then what am I supposed to do? I'll be right back to where I started. Ya, an older protagonist totally sounds perfect for me. 

*SIGH*

Then in walked Oscar Martello.  The guy literally came out of nowhere. Just appeared in this short story collection that I was reading by the Do Some Damage gang. (TERMINAL DAMAGE...ONLY $0.99! You can find it HERE) I knew instantly that I was in love, and that this time...it was for real. 

For real? What does that even mean? Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that I started talking about this character and even leaving comments about him on blogs. You can read about one comment here on the Mulholland Books website.  Ya, there are more than one of these types of comments floating around out there. Once I remembered the author, Steve Weddle, was following me on Twitter, I stopped retweeting all the tweets that would link people to the websites.  (I gotta have some secrets, right?) I even had a dream about Oscar once. He wasn't actually in the dream, but when you listen to and read the stories about Oscar Martello it'll be so obvious that the dream was about him.  I was a traveling sales representative and I was wandering the streets in a French Maid outfit selling baseball bats, brass knuckles, and ceramic hunting knives.  It was the same night that some dork posted an article about how authors should be branding their books. I guess my thoughts got away from me...just a little.

Anyway, so who is Oscar Martello? According to Steve Weddle's website, Oscar Martello is a man in his 50s, caught between lives. The former bad guy tried to retire. Not to be a good guy. Just to retire. Hasn't really been working out for him. I picture him to be rough around the edges, handsome, and a sharp dresser. He's Tough. He reminds me of all the inmates I worked with when I was employed with the Sheriff's Department. You know, that unspoken rule they all have...you can beat your wife, even kill her, and anyone else,  but if you hurt a child...you're in for a fight.  That's how I see Oscar. His decisions seem quick and they don't come with regrets. At least not when it's "work" related.

Well, I really, really, really love this character, and to prove my undying devotion to Oscar Martello, I'm officially announcing Oscar Martello week on My Friends Call Me Kate.  My goal?  To get all of my readers to fall in love with Oscar, of course!  And to help you with this I'm linking you to the very first short story I ever read about Oscar...Walkaways.

In Walkaways, you'll read about Oscar being used as a pawn to start a war and you'll learn first hand why it never pays to be a step behind the newest love of my life. You'll also read about some guy named, Booger.  I'm also linking a second story titled, Missed Flight. The title pretty much explains the story, but if I'm not mistaken, that unspoken rule I mentioned earlier...well, you'll have a better understanding of it after reading /  listening to this.  Both stories can be found in audio format and are being brought to us by the sultry sounds of author, Daniel B. O'Shea. 

Although I'm not selling any brass knuckles, baseball bats, and ceramic hunting knives- I am giving away some buttons this week. The  button for today reads:  "I Love Oscar Martello" -  An "I Love Oscar Martello" button will be given to a select number of people that leave a comment on the blog. Tell me what you think about the short stories, and if your brave, tell me what you think of the man reading them. I'll be back on Wednesday to link you to three more stories, and of course, I'll be giving away some more buttons. Buttons are cool.  But they will never be as cool as Oscar. 

Oh! I also have 5 boxes of chocolate for the first 5 coworkers to post a comment on my blog and show up at my desk professing their love for Oscar Martello. Listen.  Enjoy.  Fall in love.

LISTEN TO:        "WALKAWAYS" 

This story can be found in the short story collection, Terminal Damage. You can purchase it here.  The book also contains short stories by Dave White, Russel McLean, Joelle Charboneau, and many others.

LISTEN TO:        "MISSED FLIGHT"

READ:                 "MISSED FLIGHT"

__________________________________

Steve Weddle is an editor, short story writer, and novelist. A former English professor, he holds an MFA in creative writing from Louisiana State University and currently works for a newspaper group.  His fiction has appeared in numerous literary and crime/noir journals. In 2009, Weddle and six crime fiction writers created DoSomeDamage, where he blogs on Mondays.  In 2010, Weddle and John Hornor Jacobs created Needle: A Magazine of Noir, one of the top journals for contemporary crime fiction. He lives with his family in Virginia.

His short fiction has recently appeared at Beat To A Pulp, Crime Factory, and A Twist of Noir.  http://steveweddle.squarespace.com/

Dan O'Shea is a thriller writer represented by Stacia Decker at the Donald Maass Literary Agency. His fiction has appeared in Crimefactory, and will be in an upcoming issue of Needle: A Magazine of Noir. You can find him online at danielboshea.wordpress.com, or just head out to the Chicago area and pick out a bar. He'll turn up.

NEEDLE: A Magazine of Noir

I still remember the very first short story that ever made an impact on me. I was in third grade and our teacher gave us an assignment to write a short story involving the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.   It wasn't the first writing assignment we had been given in her class. Mrs. King loved reading books to us and always encouraged us to use our imagination in our writing assignments.  But it wasn't until this particular assignment that I realized just how gifted some individuals could be at story telling. 

It was the final day before Thanksgiving break when Mrs. King stood up in front of the class and told us that she had a very special story to read to us in preparation for the holiday. The story was written by my good friend Sara and it chronicled the life a turkey family living on a ranch with hundreds of acres of roaming space. They were a happy family. A mother. A father. Three little ones. They lived a perfectly happy life until one day the father was dragged away by the ranch owner and sacrificed in front of his entire family for Thanksgiving dinner.  For a third grader the writing was amazing.  Mrs. King had to stop reading more than once in order to collect her emotions. By the time she was finished reading her face was stained with tears and all of us were whimpering at the thought of eating a turkey dinner the next day.  In fact, as an adult, I still recall with perfect clarity the emotions from that experience while I'm stuffing my own prized bird each year. I also find myself silently praying that this turkey wasn't sacrificed in front of his family like the one Sara wrote about so long ago.

Flash forward many, many years and you'll find that I've developed a passion for reading short stories. My coworkers have heard me talking about them ever since I was introduced to short story collections in December.  I love, love, love them! There is something amazing about reading a story for twenty minutes and walking away feeling no different than if you had just finished a 400 page novel.  The characters are strong, the information is just as descriptive, and the emotions you develop while reading the stories are probably more intense since you are getting an incredible amount of info in a really small amount of time. 

So, today I thought I'd introduce to you an option that I found that helps me quench my thirst for all things short story related.  It's called Needle: A Magazine of Noir.  Within its pages lies a collection of kick-ass short stories written by multiple authors that are all woven together by one common theme: crime fiction.  Needle describes their magazine like this: Hardboiled. Lean and mean. No silly reviews. No poetry (that's for pussies). No advertising. Nothing but hard hitting stories. In your face and busting up your kiss-maker. Kapow.  They aren't lying about that description. I've said it before and I have no problem hitting the repeat button - short story writers are beyond brilliant. Their ability to engage a reader with so much emotion and information in just a few pages speaks volumes about their talent.  I've read the stories in Needle...having this magazine on my shelf is just as important as my love for all things Reacher.  Now that has got to mean something, right? 

This is a magazine filled with nothing but stories and it isn't riddled with adds or perfume samples. You won't even find a review.  Even better, this collection of short stories comes in packaging that isn't much bigger than a paperback book and fits easily in my purse.  (uh...that last part is clearly to sell it to the females...for most of us women this is really, really important) This makes it perfect reading material for those on the go and is a great alternative  for those who feel they don't have time to devote to an entire novel.  And because I'm such a lover of the written word and all things short story related...I'm going to give away 3 copies of NEEDLE. Leave a comment on my blog between now and Wednesday, and I'll enter you in a drawing to win one of three issues from 2010.  It's going to be a good day on My Friends Call Me Kate and I would hate for you to miss out.

If you would like to learn more about Needle: A Magazine of Noir and the people responsible for giving us such greatness, you can check out their website here.