"Love, Obsession & the Deep-Freeze"

I have one more story that has been published that I would like to share with you. "Love, Obsession & the Deep-Freeze" was first published in Midnight Times, issue 14, in the summer of 2006. It will also appear in print in issue 37 of Outer Darkness Magazine in the summer of 2007.

I was reading Stephen King’s book On Writing (which, by the way, I encourage any aspiring writer to purchase–but more on that later) when this story came to me. In the book Stephen King sets up a writing exercise in which he gives you a common situation, has you switch the roles, then tells you to write about it.

"Love, Obsession & the Deep-Freeze" was born, loosely, from that situation. As I have said before, some stories come easy, like a trip down a water slide. Some come hard, like a fat man squeezing through the cat door.

This one ... it was a fun ride all the way to the water. I did have to rewrite it a couple of times before I captured it just right, but that’s all part of the job, isn’t it?

Brandy liked the story, but she wasn’t too fond of the title. "It’s seems a little too long," she told me. It is the longest title of any of my stories, but still, what a title! It came to me out of the blue. An epiphany (or apostrophe as Shmee in Hook would say). I thought it was poetic. Dark, yet beautiful. I sent it without apology into the world.

And looky there! Not one acceptance letter, but two.

Oh, come on. I’ve been losing arguments to this woman for over eight years now. I’ve got to boast a victory, no matter how small. It could be a long time before I see another one.

All joking aside. "Love, Obsession & the Deep-Freeze" was an enjoyment for me to write. I hope you will feel the same about reading it. It is dark, and a little sad, but all my stories are seasoned with those spices. That’s just who I am, I guess.

I am not going to print the story here. Just like "A Town Full of Holes," I want you to visit Midnight Times (www.midnighttimes.com/) and check it out there. Or if you want, order your advanced copy of Outer Darkness, issue 37.

That would be just fine, too.

"The Monster's Box"

"The Monster’s Box" was published in the Spring/Summer, 2005 issue of Fighting Chance.

Of all the stories I’ve written, this is the one that my wife deems her favorite. Of all the stories I’ve written, this one has caused me the most pain.

I love the fantastic and impossible. Monsters, aliens, supernatural gunslingers that travel the dimensions–those are my kind of stories. "The Monster’s Box" isn’t at all fantastic or impossible (although the title would suggest different).

The story is about real pain, real monsters. It is a subject that hits very close to home. There is absolutely nothing in this story that is real. I am not the main character. It is a story, not a memoir. But it is a subject that I know a good bit about.

I didn’t write this story with the thought of seeking publication. I wrote it out of frustration and hurt. Maybe that’s what makes it my wife’s favorite. Its honesty.
What is sweet nectar to her is bitter water to me. The words cut me when I wrote them–they cut just as deep every time I pass by. But please don’t confuse pain with regret.


The Monster’s Box
by Gabriel Beyers

I stand staring into a box. Inside the box is something I love and something I hate. The box belongs to a monster. I know that seems foolish and simple, but it’s the truth.

I can’t remember when the monster came into our lives; perhaps he was always there. If I press hard into the thick swamp of my mind and force myself into the wilderness of my memory I can feel him there. Red hot and angry.

When I was young, I spent my nights being startled awake, not sure what it was that woke me. I would lay there, staring into the dark ceiling, mute with fear, listening to the monster’s growls slithering up and down the halls. Could my mother hear him? What if he found her?

All I could do was pull the covers over my head and clog my ears with my fingers. Sometimes it took me hours of lying like that before sleep would come again.

Years went by, and soon my little brother came to share my fear of the night. The monster, who had limited his visits to once or twice a week, was now coming every night.

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