F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction (New Weird) Author

Memories

The Way We Were

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Nevermore. (Image by Gustave Doré [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
Nevermore. (Image by Gustave Doré [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
A prose poem about looking back.

Memories.

Days gone past.

Remembering past movies, mindsets, and a sense of public decorum.

And, okay, a few ties to other works. I think I can get away with that last word….

But nothing is ever perfect. As we remember it. There are always dark shadows (pardon the veiled pun).

Change is what it is.

This poem has never been published. Probably should have stayed that way.

 

The Way We Were

© F. P. Dorchak, 2003

 

We would never die and never grow old

Polite to each other

Always young

NYC known for publishing, Greenwich Village, “The Big Apple”

HIV was no more than just three letters in the alphabet

Gas was under a dollar

Our dreams were on fire

We could change the world

Nothing could get in our way

Stephen King was It

Nevermore

 

Short Story Links

Links to all my posted short stories are here.

 

Am I Having Too Much Fun?

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Since November 2015, I’ve been going over all the short stories I’ve written (and have an accounting of). I’ve been posting them on my blog site, and currently have auto-posts every Friday out until August 19, 2016. And I still have a handful left that I think are “blog worthy.” Some are definitely blog worthy, but are too long (so I won’t post those, since I already have enough on my site that are already pushing the limits for “comfortable” blog reading; they’ll be in the short story collection I’m putting together, however). But I’ve been having so much fun doing this that I no longer have (or make) the time to post other non-short story-related posts!

So, I thought, I’d make some time!

My stories run the gamut…from my current “paranormal/metaphysical fiction” M.O., to fantasy, to back into the deep dark past of straight-on, unflinching horror-fiction writing. And one or two of them are downright vile. And one of these non-horror stories is so damned powerful to me that I can’t help but get emotional every time (and I mean every time…) I read it…but it’s too close to real life, and people and situations in it are too identifiable, so I can’t release it…but also have to admit that of the 21 pages, only four of them had been written in 1997 (and those four pages still got me emotional!); I’d written the other 17 a couple weeks ago…the story still that fresh in my mind of what I’d wanted to do. I feel it’s arguably the best short story I’ve ever written. I’ve written other shorts that are never going to see the light (or dark) of day for various reasons. In any event, they all show where my head was at and what I’d done. They all helped shaped me into the writer that I am today. And I think that’s cool.

I’m also glad that not everything I’ve ever written has been published!

And the “forgetting more than I ever knew” part? Yeah, I don’t remember having written a lot of these…but there it is, my header info with my contact information at the time, and dates. Yup, that’s me—

But a different me.

I can comfortably say that I am no longer the person who wrote those stories…yet that person is definitely still a part of me. And we’re both enjoying this! I think we’re both amused with the other. Fascinated. Well, I know I am!

So, if some of these stories piss you off, get you excited, make you think…than I have truly done my job. My big goal now…is to try to get you to cry….

In doing this I’ve really seen how much my writing has changed. It’s like when Steven Spielberg said that had he written Close Encounters of the Third Kind “now” he would not have written the Roy Neary character to go off with the aliens, because he did not have children when he wrote it. I’m finding that my huge interest in things like UFOs and aliens and monsters and the like is waning for more stories about the Human Condition. As gnarly and explicit as Voice is, that is one of my favorite stories because it speaks so much to aspects of the Human Condition. I mean, I’ve tried to do this with all my work to one degree or the other, but in Voice it’s so visceral. I think The Uninvited is also another “visceral” read. I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, but my migration away from straight horror (which can also be said to “speaking to the Human Condition”) was also largely motivated by this same feeling. I didn’t always admit it, but I have and always wanted to make people emote…to cry, rage, or just plan feel something other than the horror-related emotions of fear and, well, horror (not that there’s anything wrong with that…). I’ve always wanted to be that “literary writer” where I could dig a little deeper with words and emotional and conditional explorations while still telling a compelling story.

In short (pardon the pun), I’m finding I’ve grown more concerned with people rather than machinery, monstrous attacks, and conspiracies.

But, that doesn’t mean I won’t still write the occasional horror story…if the story grabs me enough! And nearly all of my work will have elements of the paranormal, the metaphysical, the supernatural. I just like writing about that kind of stuff.

And on this site, yes, I am cleaning them up some, but I am intentionally trying to keep them in as close a “form” as when I wrote them. When I compile the better ones into my book-form collection, I will be going over them with as fine-toothed a comb as possible…yet will keep them in the era in which they were created, i.e., I won’t update for cell phones and other currencies and the like. If written in the 1980s, the story itself will not be updated to 2017.

So.

I hope you don’t mind that I’m putting all this stuff out there! I know they’re not for everybody, but I think there’s something for everyone. These stories show the various shades of my ability (or lack thereof to any critics out there who feel Indies just aren’t good enough for traditional platforms…)…and the expansiveness of what I chose to write about. If this is what I am…there are certainly others out there just like me…or I’m just like them…

Because as different as we all are…we’re also very much the same.

And, damn it, I’m just having fun!

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