Sean D. Francis

The Orchard is Filled with Apples Worm-Ridden and Not

Posted on 28 February 2010

AUTHOR NOTE: I was rummaging through my closets and I came upon a stack of notebooks filled with random writing. I remember writing the piece I am presenting here in reaction to the a few things. First, I would get upset when I see a movie or read a book that could have been so much better than it was. Part of my problem was because it had been done no one would try to do it again. Second, I felt I was doing this to myself as well. I’d have a great idea for a story, write it out, and it didn’t live up to the potential in my head. At least when it relates to just my work, I can rework it and fine tune it, but I still feel like I sucked some vital essence from the original idea.

Of all the stuff I’ve written I can’t honestly say why I like this particular story. I think I really like the main character’s oblivious persistence to his craft. While I see myself as Trent in the story, I want to be the nameless main character.  Oh, and please forgive the title.  I recently watched a documentary about Harlan Ellison.  I’ll leave it at that.

The Orchard Is Filled with Apples Worm-Ridden and Not

“I fucking hate you!” Trent shouted at me as I folded my notebook to expose a fresh clean page.

“Why do you hate me?” I asked, not concerned about the answer. A new idea had just flooded into my head and I needed that moment to capture it on paper so it wouldn’t get lost.

“Here I am, begging for ideas and you willy-nilly grab ideas out of thin air and then write about them in such a crappy way that I feel robbed.”

“Uh huh, yeah crappy to be robbed,” I muttered as I sketched out the perfect anti-hero.

“It’s like ordering a chocolate cake at a restaurant. I mean, mmm, chocolate cake, right? But when the cake gets to you it is dry and flavorless. You eat it but you don’t feel like you really ate a piece of chocolate cake. And since you just ate a piece of cake, you can’t very well go out and eat another piece of cake to fill that desire for chocolate cake.. You are left with the pathetic sense memory of crappy cake.”

“You should have sent it back if it was dry and flavorless.” I was stuck on which cliché to use. Should he be a villain who is transformed by events into someone who does good or a good guy caught on the wrong side of a bad law? The former allows for a great redemption arc and women love bad boys who do right. On the other hand, the good man trapped on the wrong side of a bad law provides the best individual vs. society moments. So many good choices. I guess I could write one story with one character and another story with the other.

“Are you even listening to me?” Trent raged.

“I think some French guy said that the best critique of a bad dessert is to make a dessert of your own.”

“But I’ve already eaten your dessert!”

“There is only one dessert?” I was seriously confused but secretly glad I had ignored much of this conversation.

“If I’ve already eaten your flavorless cake, that means the ingredients are used up. If I try to make a chocolate cake of my own, it is just a rehash of your crappy, bad cake. Don’t you get the metaphor?”

I wasn’t really a cake kind of person. I preferred pie. I think my anti-hero would be a pie fanatic. Yeah, the story would open with Mac Turner eating a piece of pie, cherry pie.

“This crust is bland and the cherries taste like shit – I’m not eating this,” Mac growled from his diner stool at the young waitress. He threw his fork to the counter in disgust and spit pie all over the counter. Using his large hand as a napkin he removed a bit of cherry pie filling that clung to his perfectly trimmed handlebar moustache.

Trent was fuming now. He really should just go out and get a cake from the bakery. There is a bakery downtown that makes a pretty good German Chocolate cake. I like the coconut frosting.