AUGIE'S CORNER (work in progress)

Saturday, December 24, 2011


It's Christmas time as well as Hanukkah...may all be richly blessed with the words that will refresh the soul of the readers as well as enrich the characters we create...Augie

Monday, September 26, 2011

The Case of the Missing Red Shoe

During the summer of 1912, I was fishing in the pond in the small town of Woodifist. This was such a small town; everybody knew everybody. We'd know when each baby was born, when someone was thinking of  getting married, when there was a death, even when Mr. Ole Forster got his last two good teeth pulled out from his mouth. There were no secrets here.
Now back to my fishing, I am considered to be one of the best fishermen in the whole county of Woodifist. I've been fishing every since my pappy taught me some years ago.
This happened to be one of the hottest times of the year for summer, nothing would really grow. There was a rationing of water, even we had to be careful when we took water from the local spring, but fortunately for me, my pappy had dug a well in the backyard of our house.
I know these parts well enough, as well as I know this ole fishing hole, I'd cast off my line and all of a sudden I'd hit something that I have never hit before. There on my line when I reeled it in was a worn red shoe. I have never seen anything like it in all my days, a shoe like that must belong to some rich lady.
At first I did not recall where I had seen that shoe before until I remembered about 3 years ago, there was a story in the local corner newsstand about a red shoe being found in the river and no one had ever seen it before. 
I sort of wondered if it could be the same type of shoe. I decided to go visit the library to read over some old issues of our little newsstand paper. What to my surprised did I find, was that the shoe in the paper was the identical to the one that I just found, except mine was all dingy with stuff all in it. 
I could not wait to get home to put on my Sherlock Holmes hat—I called my dog Dr. Watson, even though his real name was hound, and we'd start to investigate the story.
It seemed that about eight years ago, in the town of Huntsville there had been a strange disappearance of one of its most affluent members. All the information in the newspaper wasn’t too clear.
It was written that a Mrs. Barthletow Henton-Jameson, who was quite rich and affluent in the town, was missing. She never bothered anyone, and she was well liked by those who knew her. It seemed that just one day she just up and disappeared.
The paper also stated that a particular person, a lady to be exact, who owned a pair of shoes like the one that was found eight years ago, had disappeared. No one had ever found the other mate or the person who shoe it belonged to. .
That Ms. Henton-Jameson was very wealthy, old and sometimes forgetful. She loved to wear strange types of shoes and the mate to this shoe I found appeared to be the shoe that someone in the town had see her wearing at one time or another.
The newspaper did not know what happened to her, all they knew then was that she had visited the First and Trust National Bank earlier that particular day, and had withdrawn ten dollars.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

How to Build a Shed, better yet, How to build a Mystery

                            (Or any writing for the public viewing)

Yesterday, I was tracing through the Internet, when I came upon different sites in regards to “How to Build Your Own Garden Shed,” what took me there, I have no idea mainly because I am not interested in building a shed of any kind, until it hit me like a “flash of lightening,” building my own garden shed is like writing a Mystery novel. Yeah, writing…let me show you.

When one makes a shed, it can be of any length or width so long as it is large enough to hold everything.
You need a strong foundation is the key to building your shed so that it can last long, or withstand the verbal run on sentences and clichés.

Continue on the build: so that it can last long enough to withstand the weight of the structure.

The structure you ask how important is the structure? Many think that there are no simple formulae that will work every time, but I have found that if one is organized in their thought patterns  or process of your characterizations as well as their goal, then the balance of the structure is laid. You know where you are starting, the goal, but not necessarily how you are to achieve this goal or the ending.

Continue on the build: Once you build a strong foundation, you’ll need to build it stronger by adding several more two by six, placing them from one end of the foundation to the other end. Then, nail them in place with spikes or other large nails.

This is the plot, the nailing of the foundation to whole the weight of your structure. A good plot builds a cohesive narrative. It connects as the glue to the structure and characterization.  There’s no hard and fact rule to obtain this cohesiveness, except to be believable.Writing is highly personal so every writer’s approach to each story is different, but good creative writing needs these elements to work in harmony.

Continue on the build: Continue with the two by six and frame out your shed with nails, but don’t forget to

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Jumpin the Fence

During the summer of 1942 sitting in the pigeon coop I fell in love. It was not a puppy love, but a forever love. He was older than me, but I think that was the exciting part, you see I was thirteen at the time and I did not know much about life except for my mother having so many babies, that I thought that one day I’m going to be just like her.

My name is Abigail Sinclair and I lived in Compton, California on a little street called Caldrock, this was a small street with a whole lot of chickens that ran loose all the time,

“If you drove down the street you had better be careful or you would have chicken gizzards and necks and stuff all on your front bumper, because those chickens multiple like mice.”

In maturing, I was slower than most girls my age, as far as I knew all of them by now had started, but not me. Maybe I was too active, being a cheerleader since Ralph J Bunch Junior High, on the track team and playing street football with my brothers.

My best friend at the time was Adrienne DuForest who lived next door. I think

Friday, August 12, 2011

The Eyes of the Young Summer August, 1965’

The monsters came busting through the doors with their green helmets, tall boots and guns pointing at everyone in the room, a loud voice called out,

“Who else is here?”

Just then a woman of thirty-nine came from a bedroom,

“Sir, only my children and me.”

This is my first recollection of the horrendous summer of 1965.

The Eyes of the Young Summer August 1965, is told through the eyes of a child of seven who cannot seem to understand why anyone would want to burn their town down, while in the streets the cries heard from the major black radio station , “Burn baby burn,” as the heat blares in the three digits during the day never cooling until seven days later as the town burns to the ground.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Fanaman Curse

Here standing proudly and forlorn is Fanaman Mansion with its massive walls that conceals the secrets within, while obscuring the annoyances of the world and the overshadowing of death of the most opportune, deceit, sinister trickery of the mind as well as the heart. Murder and ghost begs one to run far, far away, yet I never leave and neither do the others, we are all prisoners of Fanaman.

This Victorian Thriller is based upon the coming of age of Charlotte Demerayes who must face the keeper of Fanaman and travel through times of the 17th Century to learn the truth facing death defying odds and traveling to a foreign land to face the truth of the curse of Fanaman.