Down the Proverbial Rabbit Hole

Prompt: Write a story that includes the line “I should have known better.”

Down the Proverbial Rabbit Hole

I consider myself to be a passionate person reveling in the opportunities to express my inner self. Right away one may think I am a painter, or a sculptor, or a musician. Frankly, it is none of those because my paintings look like stick figures made by preschoolers. Certainly not a sculptor because my objects end up as masses of clay as though they were formed by a ninety-five-year old with arthritic hands. And by no means am I a musician since my voice resonates like a garbage can on trash pick-up day.

So I do the next best thing. I write. I am a prolific writer. My writings consist of prose, poetry, and soliloquies. I discovered that my specialty is actually writing short stories less than three thousand words. For the past several months, I have been prompted by an online publishing company to write on an assortment of topics. Some really resonate with me; others sometimes disgust me. But more on that later. Perhaps you have heard of them, the “Hell-of-a-Story” publishing company. The company offers a weekly cash contest for the best story submission. Runner ups get recognition in their magazine, “Dare You to Write Better.” When I learned about the company, their contest and magazine, I had to check them out on the internet. Aside from the overload of commercial advertising for their site and promotion of “well-known” authors, I found nothing to dissuade me from participating in this weekly venture. The cost seemed nominal: a one-time set-up fee of your soul. Well, not really. Just $99.99 tax included plus all the financial rights to your first published ISBN. Each weekly charge thereafter was $4.99 per story submission. It seemed reasonable at the time.

At first, I was a bit apprehensive writing on a topic and then posting it into the public domain of a publishing website. My anxiety was not on the critique of my story, but was centered on how well I addressed the topic in question. Well, my fears were allayed when I received an email saying my story was accepted and made available to other readers on the website. My heart was ready to burst with excitement knowing the publishing representative, Isadora, had accepted my story. Later in the week, new topics were posted for the next weekly contest.  I wondered what were the results of the previous contest? Nothing was forthcoming in my inbox from the company. I checked the website seeing that a winner had been selected along with runner-ups.  No mention of ‘yours truly.’ Ok, I could live with that. It was my first attempt.

I was ready for contest number two. I would choose not one but two of the topics presented to me for the new week. I was primed and ready to tackle the new challenges. As I viewed it, the topics were lame at best; such as write a story about a character who gets rewarded for something, or about a character who becomes a famous author, or even about a time when an animal ruins your day.  Yeesh! It is almost like the publishing company really suffered from a creative deficit. Nevertheless, I took the bait and wrote a couple of stories for that week, posting them the next day of the contest.

As hoped, Isadora sent me an email saying she posted my stories. I checked the online story board seeing my stories were posted as the 9998 and 9999 entries. I figured it must have been a mistake so I scanned the list. It took me over an hour to actually find my entries. Hmmm. Maybe my entries had to be directed through the North Pole company server.  I would not be deterred by this outcome!  I powered up my creative writing juices to do battle with the judges of the “Hell-of-a Story” publishing company. I would write stories that would evoke the most extreme emotions out of that group. They would laugh; they would be elated; they would blubber and cry like never before in their lives. I embarked on this mission of endless story submissions. I would not be dissuaded by the critics of the almighty script! I had to ask myself who they were anyway? On the website they listed their judges. Most seemed unassuming, kind, and friendly as described from their brief bios. A few caught my eye such as Marty Cornonthecob; Mikey Darkcavern; Ricky Rico. These dudes apparently are the puppeteers of “Hell-of-a Story.” I needed to pull a few strings to wet their appetite for more of my loquacious writings. My personal mantra has become “sooner or later they will succumb to my verbosity.”

“Let the conquest begin,” I whimpered inside my head. Contest after contest postings continued, regardless of the passage of time or my ability (more like inability) to provide captivating stories. More and more weekly emails from Isadora flooded my inbox proclaiming my acceptances into the competitions. I let numbers of aura reward points skew my thinking! I saw prominently displayed on the website a listing of top leaders for aura points accumulation. That list wreaked havoc in my mind, and disrupted my creativity. I felt despondent and inferior that I would never be as good as Godzilla Rabit or Dorothy Brownfield. Their tens of thousands of aura points made them heroes in the “Hell-of-a Story” domain of story-domination. They collectively must have spent thousands of dollars. Quite possibly offset by a win or two, or three, or hundreds. “To the spoils go the victor.” My spoils! Alas, so many $4.99 contributions to their cause! 

A thought struck me! Wait a minute! I told myself that this should be beyond competing with other stories. I let rivalry dictate my creative flair and sidetrack my inner-most beliefs, hopes, and dreams. How dare this would happen! How could I let anyone or even myself do this to me? I should have known better!

I set out to deliver my heartfelt thoughts and beliefs. I vowed to myself that I actually would to go down that rabbit hole to victory seeking the light at the end of that rabbit hole and maybe a carrot or two. What about cost?  Outwardly, I professed it does not matter. Inwardly I feared debit collectors waiting to pounce on my coffers.

I pause now in my story for a moment of introspective thought. I wondered what does the reader want? Or, more importantly, what does the readers of my stories need?  Was it hilarity? If so, then I would have been a stand-up comedian. Was it horror? By nature, I consider myself a scaredy cat, even when at Halloween when costumed kids knocked on my door. Was it military engagement? I would have been a rogue mercenary. Was it romance? I barely have a love life. Was it mystery? I can never keep a secret since my plot reveal happens at the end of the first paragraph. Was it adventure? I have agoraphobic tendencies not wanting to leave the security of my house.

Now what would it be? The best story I can write conveys the truth. Not just any truth, but the Truth with a capital “T.” One can not run from it, hide from it, or escape it. The Truth is manifest in humankind. Before this little interlude of thought I refused to acknowledge that the Truth is in everything myself and the reader does in life. One can deny it; one can scoff at it; one can curse it. It will always be there. Life contains the Truth. It begins and ends with the Truth.

I write now with confidence write on any topic because it will reflect the Truth. It does not matter if the topic is centered on romance, adventure, mystery, comedy or absolutely anything and everything. What is the Truth? It is the Truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  “He (I) is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him (Me).” (John 14:6, NIV)

My writings were lacking luster, purpose, vision, excitement, and color before understanding the purpose why I should create them. The judges still may not be swayed, ignoring the deeper message. It is likely I may still flounder in the contests, but this is fine with me. After a multitude of stories, it has taken me quite a while to profess my heartfelt love of stories written in the Christian genre about Jesus Christ. Why did it take me this long to figure it out? I should have known better.

The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with how Satan works. He will use all sorts of displays of power through signs and wonders that serve the lie, and all the ways that wickedness deceives those who are perishing. They perish because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. (1Thessalonians 2: 9-10, NIV)

P.S. 38 stories and counting on many more submissions to profess the sovereignty of Jesus in everyday life. He is there. Just look for Him!

NIV=New International Version

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com