A day in my life
by Marc DiGiacomo
I thought for a long while what I would write about for this guest blog. I am truly honored to be here and thankful for this opportunity to help all aspiring writers and readers looking for something different to read. My writing style is so different from everyone else’s but that’s the beauty of writing. No two authors have the same form and everyone’s situation is different. There is no set schedule as it can occur at any time. Many nights I have awoken mid-dream with a thought and reached for my laptop, only to spill over a half empty mug of my favorite hazelnut coffee. What a great way to wake your sleeping wife. No time to clean the mess, not until it all leaves your brain and ends up a key stroke. There is plenty of time for cleaning up later, you’re writing important stuff here. It is extremely beneficial for a late night writer to have a dog to take care of these sudden messes. My little Lola is a sweetheart; she cleans up a spill better than a mop and bucket of water.
I prefer solitude when I write but living in a house with three young boys, this isn’t possible. I have a bedroom in the basement that is tucked away with a view of the backyard. We live in the woods. There is always a cool bird to watch building its nest or a squirrel running through the backyard looking for food. This is the perfect picture of nature until a barrage of Nerf bullets rain down on the little critter causing him to retreat up a tree. Now, you would think animals are their only targets but no, unfortunately they save a few dozen rounds to rattle my window. Their laughter calms me, I remember being young, the only difference is we had bb guns when I was their age. Luckily, neither I or my friends lost an eye.
I try to write in the morning after the school bus drives away from in front of my house. With the kids off to develop their young minds, I began to crank mine into action. First, there is coffee and lots of it. No television otherwise I will get sucked in on catching up on my favorite shows. Do I procrastinate? Sometimes, but the characters, they call to me. Who am I not to listen to their demands? They keep me from becoming someone who just talks to himself all day.
In all honesty, for once I am my own boss who is in total control of my destiny. That is until the yellow bus shows up three hours later as I stare at a short sentence of new material. Half-day kindergarten for all the taxes I pay, unbelievable. The sound of their little feet running up the walkway causes my spine to tingle. “I guess I’m done for the day,” is something I usually say but that rarely is the truth. Somehow through this limited timeframe I wrote “In a Small Town.” It is all still a blur for me. I know I wrote it but how did it ever get done. When people ask, “How long did it take to write?” I have to search for the answer, “Ahh, about a year.” That sounds right but I don’t know, maybe a little more or less. Every once in a while I will re-read my first draft and wonder if it is mine or my nine year old son’s fourth grade essay. I never can be sure until I come across vulgar profanity that only an adult could write. Then again, five years ago, my oldest son got off the kindergarten bus on his first day and asked my wife and I what the “F” word was. Welcome to my life.
The shotgun blast catches Detective Matthew Longo by surprise. His world unravels into a nightmare that seemingly won’t end. Murder, rapes, pedophiles, the small town of Hutchville, N.Y. is changing. It is up to him to make a difference. While partner Donny Mello is in Italy attending a funeral for a family member who is connected, to say the least, a beautiful F.B.I. agent waits to question him about his family business. Can Matt keep from answering the Agent’s questions? More importantly, can he hide a potentially career-ending secret from his community, his brother, and most especially Agent Cynthia Shyler?
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Genre – Thriller
Rating – R
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