Original Story - "A Situation That Got Out of Hand"
Hey guys! Long time no see. You might not know this but right now I'm in the home stretch for fall semester here at school, so I've been pretty busy! I've actually been doing a lot of non-fic related work, and I kind of wanted to put them up here so you guys could get a taste of the kinds of things I do other than fanfiction. (I know, most everyone doesn't care about this kind of thing, but if I want to make it as a writer, I gotta put away the kiddy-scissors someday! ...Not today. Or soon. Later.)
Well, this semester I took "Writing Short Fiction" - it's basically the "Beginner's Workshop" class for creative fiction. We had to write four stories for the workshop, which doesn't seem like a lot, but we had to revise them each twice! So we'd have 3 different versions of the same story. You guys might've caught on by now that I don't really do revisions often. I've tried, but they've never stuck. I might consider doing a revision of one of my older stories at some time, so long as it's one of the complete ones! XD
Anyways, the story I'd like to share with you guys today is about a lovely young man named Arthur J. Finch. Arthur enjoys lots of things - coffeeshop philosophy, Shakespeare, classical music, art, and most importantly, beautiful women. The poor boy just doesn't seem to have very good luck with the ladies, though! It might have something to do with his artistic style...
I would like to present to you: The Continuing Adventures of Arthur J. Finch: 'Chapter 1: A Situation That Got Out of Hand'"!
My name is Arthur J. Finch, and I am an artist. An unusual artist, perhaps, but a good one, who knows how to manipulate the most unorthodox of paints and canvasses. I might not be hosted in any museums or art shows, but there is no doubt that you have at least distantly heard of my work. My most recent piece is entitled, “A Situation That Got Out of Hand.” It has quite an interesting story behind it, and I think about it often. It was one of those almost-sad, almost-funny situations that happened to go completely opposite of how I had envisioned it.
The inspiration for this piece came from a lovely young woman named Jessica. Jessica, oh, she was a delight. Graceful, charming, seductive, with a figure that placed her on par with the Venus de Milo. She was absolutely beautiful - as an artist, I know real beauty when I see it, and she was it. Jessica and had been dating these last few months, and I was enraptured by her wit and her intelligence. We were beginning to get really serious about our relationship by this point; the kind of serious that involves the occasional mentions of “living together,” “commitment,” and “linen shopping.” I would call her my muse and she would call me Artie, as she knew of my love for art and thought it would be cute to call me that. Jessica approached me one day with a serious proposal for living together, as opposed to the occasional giggling references, and I found myself wondering, “Well, Arthur? Why not?” I knew that there were a hundred good reasons to not let her move in, but she was my muse. My art had flourished since I had met her, and having her close all the time could only be a benefit, right?
So, just like any moron who knows better until he meets a beautiful woman, I offered to show her some of my art. If she could understand it, that is, comprehend it, we would truly be a match. I’m immensely private in regards to my work, and the idea of Jessica seeing any of it worried me, but by the time I had picked her up to take her to my place for the first time, I had overcome my anxieties. Instead, I was now eager to get her opinions.
I started out slowly, with a few watercolors of birds and oceans and other infantile things; the kinds of things you learn to paint when you’re young. She thought they were “nice.” All of it was very “nice” to Jessica, but I could see in her heart she wanted to see the real art - the things that defined me as a person, the things that drove me to create. She could see the mechanics of the watercolors, and she could understand them, but they were too simple. She wanted the real deal.
And so, against that nagging voice that we never listen to, even though we really should, I brought her to my workshop, where I finally revealed one of my most innovative pieces: “A Night to Remember.”
She... didn’t take it well.
The fact is that “A Night” was created near the one month mark of our relationship, so by the time I finally could show her it, it had grown old and stale. The canvas was stiff, and the varnish used to preserve it had cracked, leaving pieces of it to turn that awful, moldy green color I try so hard to avoid. The paint had dried, gaining that crusty texture and ugly brown color that I have yet to work around. And the varnish and mold had mixed to create a soft, faint odor that could turn your stomach if you weren’t prepared for it.
Jessica hadn’t been prepared, and I regret that fact. She probably could have withstood something a bit fresher, more creative, but “After the Fire” was too fragile to bring out, and so we had to make do with “A Night.” Unfortunately, she tried to run and I can’t have people running away from my house screaming like she was. I tried to explain to her what the purpose of the piece was. I tried to explain how she was overreacting, but she would just not. Stop. Screaming. No matter how many times I tried to explain, no matter what I tried to do to console her. She just didn’t understand. You know how it is. Sometimes people just don’t get you.
As you can imagine, this reaction was completely uncalled for, and I could no longer imagine myself living with her. It was a shame, but I have always made the best out of bad situations. I just had to make some minor adjustments to my arrangement with Jessica. She didn’t go down as easily as the others had, but then again, Jessica had been special. My Venus de Milo. I would have expected nothing less from her. Unfortunately, because of her tenacious personality, I had to mar her beautiful skin a little in order to get her, and that took away valuable room for my artistic license. I covered the marks with some cloth, gave her the sapphire eyes I had always envisioned for her, and added some tasteful marks to her face and neck to accentuate her cheekbones and collar.
It was a loss, but not a one that I find unacceptable. There’s someone out there for everyone, after all. Jessica just hadn’t been “the one.” She had done wonders for me, though, and had become something far greater than human.
She had become my muse.
Well, this semester I took "Writing Short Fiction" - it's basically the "Beginner's Workshop" class for creative fiction. We had to write four stories for the workshop, which doesn't seem like a lot, but we had to revise them each twice! So we'd have 3 different versions of the same story. You guys might've caught on by now that I don't really do revisions often. I've tried, but they've never stuck. I might consider doing a revision of one of my older stories at some time, so long as it's one of the complete ones! XD
Anyways, the story I'd like to share with you guys today is about a lovely young man named Arthur J. Finch. Arthur enjoys lots of things - coffeeshop philosophy, Shakespeare, classical music, art, and most importantly, beautiful women. The poor boy just doesn't seem to have very good luck with the ladies, though! It might have something to do with his artistic style...
I would like to present to you: The Continuing Adventures of Arthur J. Finch: 'Chapter 1: A Situation That Got Out of Hand'"!
My name is Arthur J. Finch, and I am an artist. An unusual artist, perhaps, but a good one, who knows how to manipulate the most unorthodox of paints and canvasses. I might not be hosted in any museums or art shows, but there is no doubt that you have at least distantly heard of my work. My most recent piece is entitled, “A Situation That Got Out of Hand.” It has quite an interesting story behind it, and I think about it often. It was one of those almost-sad, almost-funny situations that happened to go completely opposite of how I had envisioned it.
The inspiration for this piece came from a lovely young woman named Jessica. Jessica, oh, she was a delight. Graceful, charming, seductive, with a figure that placed her on par with the Venus de Milo. She was absolutely beautiful - as an artist, I know real beauty when I see it, and she was it. Jessica and had been dating these last few months, and I was enraptured by her wit and her intelligence. We were beginning to get really serious about our relationship by this point; the kind of serious that involves the occasional mentions of “living together,” “commitment,” and “linen shopping.” I would call her my muse and she would call me Artie, as she knew of my love for art and thought it would be cute to call me that. Jessica approached me one day with a serious proposal for living together, as opposed to the occasional giggling references, and I found myself wondering, “Well, Arthur? Why not?” I knew that there were a hundred good reasons to not let her move in, but she was my muse. My art had flourished since I had met her, and having her close all the time could only be a benefit, right?
So, just like any moron who knows better until he meets a beautiful woman, I offered to show her some of my art. If she could understand it, that is, comprehend it, we would truly be a match. I’m immensely private in regards to my work, and the idea of Jessica seeing any of it worried me, but by the time I had picked her up to take her to my place for the first time, I had overcome my anxieties. Instead, I was now eager to get her opinions.
I started out slowly, with a few watercolors of birds and oceans and other infantile things; the kinds of things you learn to paint when you’re young. She thought they were “nice.” All of it was very “nice” to Jessica, but I could see in her heart she wanted to see the real art - the things that defined me as a person, the things that drove me to create. She could see the mechanics of the watercolors, and she could understand them, but they were too simple. She wanted the real deal.
And so, against that nagging voice that we never listen to, even though we really should, I brought her to my workshop, where I finally revealed one of my most innovative pieces: “A Night to Remember.”
She... didn’t take it well.
The fact is that “A Night” was created near the one month mark of our relationship, so by the time I finally could show her it, it had grown old and stale. The canvas was stiff, and the varnish used to preserve it had cracked, leaving pieces of it to turn that awful, moldy green color I try so hard to avoid. The paint had dried, gaining that crusty texture and ugly brown color that I have yet to work around. And the varnish and mold had mixed to create a soft, faint odor that could turn your stomach if you weren’t prepared for it.
Jessica hadn’t been prepared, and I regret that fact. She probably could have withstood something a bit fresher, more creative, but “After the Fire” was too fragile to bring out, and so we had to make do with “A Night.” Unfortunately, she tried to run and I can’t have people running away from my house screaming like she was. I tried to explain to her what the purpose of the piece was. I tried to explain how she was overreacting, but she would just not. Stop. Screaming. No matter how many times I tried to explain, no matter what I tried to do to console her. She just didn’t understand. You know how it is. Sometimes people just don’t get you.
As you can imagine, this reaction was completely uncalled for, and I could no longer imagine myself living with her. It was a shame, but I have always made the best out of bad situations. I just had to make some minor adjustments to my arrangement with Jessica. She didn’t go down as easily as the others had, but then again, Jessica had been special. My Venus de Milo. I would have expected nothing less from her. Unfortunately, because of her tenacious personality, I had to mar her beautiful skin a little in order to get her, and that took away valuable room for my artistic license. I covered the marks with some cloth, gave her the sapphire eyes I had always envisioned for her, and added some tasteful marks to her face and neck to accentuate her cheekbones and collar.
It was a loss, but not a one that I find unacceptable. There’s someone out there for everyone, after all. Jessica just hadn’t been “the one.” She had done wonders for me, though, and had become something far greater than human.
She had become my muse.