Friday, January 28, 2011


A while back I read Secret Window, Secret Garden and, like most Stephen King novellas, I enjoyed it until it got to about the last twenty pages and I realize he had no idea how to end it. Anyway, I always enjoyed the stories of fictional writers, at least when they get mentioned, and I tried to come up with the Secret Window, Secret Garden/Sowing Season that appears in the book. I entered into a problem when I realize that there's no way Jim Shooter would write this type of story, because I pictured Mort Rainey as a middle of the road crime/thriller writer like James Patterson or someone equally hacky. The idea is basically that Mort isn't really a good writer at all is where I ran into trouble.'s the bits:

A woman who would take your love when your love was all you had wasn't much of a woman, Tod Browning thought, so he decided to kill her. he knew the exact spot where he would bury her. It was the garden when the old and new parts of the house met at an extreme angle. In the garden she loved more than she loved him.

He sat on the porch that morning watching the late summer air whip the great barren pines in the hushed susurrus along the water's edge. Te lake was blamy and cold but the day was a hot and hazy. He wondered if should take a swim to relieve himself of the unfortunate Virginia heat. A car pulled up to availed his thoughts. Andy Harrowed stepped out.

" Good morning, Tod. " Andy said, his big hat framing his orbed dome so tight that his skin formed little furrows where his forehead met the band. The man clantered up the stairs.

" Heat must be gettin' to ya', Tod? " Andy chided as he took off his broad brimed outdoors stetson, crushed gray felt with a tan belt

" I wouldn't think so, Andy. Not just yet anyway. Was about to relieve myself at the lakeside in a bit. "

" Rightly so. " Andy leaned against the bannister and looked out at the great expanses of Northeastern V.A, it's beautiful majesty unfolded before him like a tableau of a simple land in unsimple times. Tod and Andy looked out of the crystal blue water that simmered like tinsel. " Contemplating that myself on the drive. " Andy offered, prefunctory. Tod had the feeling that there was something on his mind. Still, he humored the man. "

"Say Tod, you got by far the best land in Dewford. " Andy fawned. Tod smiled a little and now knew that Andy wanted something.

" Flirtin' a bit early, ain'tcha Andy? What do ya' need? " Tod japed, cutting to the quick.

" Just need you to look at a few things. Mind if we talk inside? "

" No sir. I certainly don't. " Tod Browning said as he staked the knife into the first size of birch he was whittling and lead Andy inside.


Andy set the pictures on the burgundy ottoman that rested atop of the small braided rug next to the fireplace. He had fanned them out in such a way so that they edges overlap, displaying them like grisly trading cards. Tod took them, one by one, cupping his chin as he looked at the gruesome scenes therein.

" What do you think? " Andy inquired. Tod licked his bristled tongue against the back of his teeth and said nothing. Andy then began to tell him what happened to the girls.

" First one was Miley Sanders. She's Ted Sander's lil' girl. You know Ted. Works at the grocery story. "

" I know, Ted. "

" Well, she was 'pose to drive back from the Westengers with a friend this weekend, but she didn't make it back. They found the car abandoned in a parking lot outside of a bar offa tha' fo'oh'five. 'bout a half a mile they said they found the body. No sign of the friend. Thinkin' 'es still got her. "


Yeah, that's pretty much it. It's funny how close that felt while not being...on the mark 100%.

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