Fair Warning: This One's A Little Edgy.

by Louis Bertrand Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved



It’s hard to believe how hard I’ve worked for the last nine or ten months, but there is a price to pay.

The stress adds up, even when goals and deadlines are self-imposed. I am, after all; a man of my word—and I say this book is going out.

This morning I managed to scroll-through once, (third novel, ‘Case,’) but essentially I achieved little. I removed a couple of typos and centred up a pair of chapter headings, mysteriously overlooked last night.

I drove my dad to the music shop and he picked up a new harmonica. I drove my brother out to my mother’s place, a 46-k round trip. I just put $20.00 bucks gas in, by the way—not anymore!

When I looked down and saw his cell-phone there, lying on the floor where he tossed it, I had a meltdown. Yeah, I was only a hundred metres up the road, and yeah, he could live without it for a few hours. It was only last week when I dropped him off somewhere and he left his keys lying beside the seat…right where he tossed them…at some point I can’t help but draw certain rather negative conclusions.

I guess you could say that I worry that I might succeed in life someday…and I don’t want a basement, a garage, a garden shed or even more than one bedroom. I guess you could say that. I won't even have a couch...I promise you that.

I can’t believe how bad I snapped. There must be spittle all over the inside of my windshield. I was raving, pissing mad.

It’s the little things that kill. Anyhow, I was alone in the vehicle, the windows were rolled up and no harm was done.

But there are times when this really doesn’t seem worth it, and maybe the best thing to do is cut the lawn, clean the bathroom, vacuum the living room rug, mop the kitchen floor, make supper for my elderly dad, a senile diabetic who suffers from Parkinson’s disease, and I dunno.

Maybe I should just sit back, wait for my next disability cheque, sit around the mall and drink cold, rancid coffee, nursing that cup through a long afternoon of irrelevance here in Sarnia, Ontario. I could gossip about people I am secretly jealous of, and in certain remarks, pander to the dream that the Leafs might win a playoff berth this year.

Or maybe I have better things to do.

Anyhow, ‘The Case of the Curious Killers’ is my third novel. This book will be available from various outlets in all e-book formats as of Nov. 1/2010 if not sooner.