Stillness – a Cole Wright short story

It’s been a little while since I’ve put out a new Cole Wright story, but with the seventh Cole Wright thriller novel Not Above The Law due out on June 20th, I figure it’s time to drum up a little notice. On the principle of, you know, maybe if you like the short story, it might pique your interest in the novel. Maybe even the other novels. And the short stories.

This is also the first short story since the No Lack of Courage collection, which gathered all the other stories so far. While the output of novels is slowing (last year they came in a little burst since I’d been writing them over the previous couple of years and wanted to have an ‘instant platform’, such as that might be), I do have a few other short stories completed and just awaiting copy-editing and formatting and so on, so I may well have more out later in the year, even if there is no new novel to pair them with. Is that like when a band releases a single that’s not on an album? Do bands really do that anymore, or is that 1990s thinking?

Anyway, here’s the blurb and cover, and first chapter.

For those interested, it’s about 7500 words (say 25 pages) over 9 chapters. Link goes to the UBL for the ebook and the paperback – $2.99/$6.99


Stillness

A quiet Spokane diner. A tasty meal. A relaxing break.

All Cole Wright wants.

But at another table someone watches him.

Intent. Focused. Maybe even a little agitated.

None of Wright’s business.

Until trouble arrives.

A story that asks the question,

how long should we wait to speak up?

Text copyright © Sean Monaghan, 2023

Cover image, © Cmoulton | Dreamstime.com (Diner), © Anton Greave – Dreamscape (figure)


Chapter 1

In the diner, Three tables along, a guy was pretending not to watch Cole Wright.

And not doing a very good job of it.

Wright sat at his own table, sipping from a soda. Home made cola. Sweet and bitter at once, and a little rich. The waitress came by periodically with a pitcher to refill for him.

The diner had a good homely feel to it. The tables were solid, molded plastic, thick and hefty, and the upper surface was printed with a gingham pattern. Pink and white checks that would be far easier to clean than actual gingham.

The tied back curtains at the windows were actual gingham fabric.

On the walls were old black and white photographs of lumberjacks with long-handled axes and mule carts, and of the Spokane River and the waterworks. Of the bridges and the old State Capitol building. One of an open-topped Mercury parked on an overlook, with trees and towns spread out below.

The waitstaff wore black, with aprons. They bustled with a practiced efficiency.

A constant scent of brisket and chicken and omelets wafted through the space.

The diner’s layout followed an L, with the long leg facing out onto the roadway. Rows of tables along the outside, mostly booths, with a few standalone around the L’s corner. The counter, facing the kitchen, had a row of stools, some occupied, but mostly empty.

Business people stopping in for a quick coffee, construction workers with big meals. The diner did a special lunchtime deal on their loaded plate. Sausages, bacon, eggs, biscuit, grilled tomatoes and rocket. Some of those big guys looked like they ate here every day. Maybe for breakfast too.

The guy watching Wright glanced up as the waitress came by with the coffee flask. He glanced her way. She topped his mug up and asked him something. He gave a shake of his head.

“I’ll bring your check,” she said, just audible to Wright. “Thanks.”

The man gave her a nod and looked back at his coffee.

Couldn’t stop his eyes flicking toward Wright on the way though.

He’d come in after Wright. Maybe fifteen minutes back. He’d looked through Wright at first, but taken to glancing at him, nursing a coffee.

Wright sat back and took a breath. He was in the last booth at the end of the L. Back to the wall. Farthest from the windows. Gap on the left, long windowless wall on his right, stretching out to the front windows. Seven booths, with a larger one right in the front corner. Seating for eight or ten easily.

Wright’s table was a little close to the bathrooms. People came and went. Through the wall he could periodically hear the sound of the hand dryer blowing.

Still, the position gave him a better view of the patrons. People watching. Always fascinating.

He wasn’t used to being watched himself so much. At least not with such intensity.

The man with the flicking eyes was likely in his mid to late twenties, though he looked tired. Almost beaten down. He was wearing a black jacket over a black tee shirt. He had a silver stud in one ear. His dark hair was cropped short along the sides, feathered into length across the top. The cut looked fresh. As if he’d just come from the barbers’.

An elderly man with an aluminum cane came around the corner from the counter, heading for the bathroom. Around and almost out of sight, a woman burst out laughing.

One of the waiters came from behind the counter, carrying a tray with two tall floats. The glass sparkled and the whipped cream on top was mountainous, topped with a cherry on each.

The guy watching Wright looked at the door again. Looked back at Wright.

Real case of nerves, that one.

Wright had been a cop. In a previous existence. That kind of thing would have had him and whichever partner discussing whether to go have a word with him.

Is everything all right sir?

Just checking in. Could be nothing. Maybe his date hadn’t shown and this was the sixth time this month. Different person every time.

Maybe he’d just come from the hospital and was worried about a sick relative. Maybe he’d just lost his job.

Any number of innocent, even if troubling, reasons for someone to seem nervous.

His eyes flicked to Wright again.

But that was different. If he’d been in uniform, then maybe that would have explained that.

Plenty of reasons people could feel nervous around a cop in a diner.

Not so much for just some guy waiting for his lunch. Wright was probably reading too much into it. Instinct. Some people would say it was force of habit. You could leave the force, but you were still a cop. You still exuded that presence.

The waitress returned to Wright’s table, carrying a laden plate. She set it down, with a knife and fork wrapped in a gingham-style paper napkin. Heat seemed to rise from the plate.

A folded and loaded cheesy omelet. Filled with bacon, potato, tomatoes, beans and plenty of other vital ingredients. Cheese oozed from it. The other half of the plate had a biscuit, crushed and drenched in white sauce.

“I’ll be right on back with your salad there,” she said.

“Well, thank you. Quick question.”

“Shoot.” She smiled. She had curly, thick blonde hair, tied back. Her name tag read Naomi.

“Nervous gentleman sitting facing me. Three tables down. Is he a regular?”

Naomi glanced over. The guy was focused now on his coffee.

“Regular?” she said, quietly. “You a cop there? You’re not a regular.”

“No I’m not a regular. I’m no longer cop. Just thought, he seems to be, I don’t know, keeping an eye on me. I might just be a little sensitive myself.”

She nodded.

“That’s Rick,” she said. “Rick Baker. Comes in a couple of times a week. Nurses a coffee. Judy in the kitchen knows him and she’s basically assistant manager, so makes sure he’s no trouble. Got divorced nearly a year back and is still moping. Harmless.”

“Well, thanks,” Wright said. “That’s reassuring.”

She smiled. Nodded. “I’ll grab you your salad. Be right back.”

She slipped away.

Wright freed the knife and fork from the napkin and started in on the omelet. The smell was heavenly.

Just the thing after a

Out front a big delivery truck slid by slowly. Arnold’s Furnishings, Spokane, WA stood out in big letters on the white side, with a stylized image of a dining table.

Rick Baker picked up his coffee mug. Drained it.

He met Wright’s eyes.

Baker stood. Took out his wallet and removed some notes. He lifted the coffee mug and set it down again, on top of the notes.

He put the wallet away and headed toward Wright.


End of excerpt. Continue reading by purchasing the ebook or the little paperback – available here.

If you missed it, keep an eye on the website here, from time to time I put up a free story.

Text copyright © Sean Monaghan, 2023


Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. It’s also available as an ebook and in print, alongside the other Cole Wright books.

More news coming soon – this is a busy week for my tiny publishing empire and I need to keep up with it.

 

Sargeson Prize – competition for New Zealand writers

sargeson-small-fileOver the last few years I’ve railed against the terms and conditions of the Sunday Star Times short story contest – where they effectively retain the right to publish any entry without paying the author. I have been in touch directly with them, and had a positive response, indicating that they will look again at those terms and conditions should they run the contest again.

In the meantime, there’s another contest open for New Zealand writers – the  Sargeson Prize, run through the University of Waikato. The contest is named for celebrated New Zealand writer Frank Sargeson.

Under the terms of this contest, writers retain the rights to their story, win, lose or place. That’s fair. There is no entry fee (my advice, avoid contests that charge a fee: money flows to authors, not from).

There’s a nice prize too.

You can enter here. Entries are restricted to residents of New Zealand.

Entries close on June 30th, so there’s still a little time to get something in. You could write it tonight and send it in tomorrow, if you’re really keen.

 

Te Kōrero Ahi Kā – To Speak of the Home Fires Burning

KoreroAhiKa-FrontCoverI have a story the new New Zealand speculative fiction anthology Te Kōrero Ahi Kā –  To Speak of the Home Fires Burning. Edited by Grace Bridges, Lee Murray and Aaron Compton.

This is a wonderful collection, and I’m thrilled to be included. There are familiar names, and some new names, which is always good.

The publisher, SpecFicNZ, exists to promote and support speculative writers in New Zealand.

I haven’t read all the stories yet, but I do like Mark English’s story especially. Despite having been writing for, well, many years now, this is the first time I’ve been in an anthology with so many people I actually know and have met in person, and consider friends.

My own story, “Dance, Tiny Particles, Dance” had an interesting genesis, dating back a couple of years when I went to enter the Gernsback Amazing Stories contest. I wrote the story, then went back to the contest guidelines and realized that, happy as I was with the story, I’d strayed significantly. (I wrote another story, which actually co-won the contest – it’s available to read for free here: “Penny of Tharsis Montes” at the Amazing Stories site).

I’m pleased that the story has found a home, especially pleased that it’s here in New Zealand too. That’s kind of cool.

Te Kōrero Ahi Kā is available directly from Amazon, and other online retailers, and should show up in local bookshops pretty soon.

KoreroAhiKa-3D

New story in Perihelion

asteroid jumpers thumbMy story “If You’re Listening, We’re Going to Try Something” will appear in the May 12th issue of Perihelion. “If You’re Listening…” features characters from my novel Asteroid Jumpers. (Which has a fabulous cover by Innovari/Luca Oleastri)

I’ve had a story set in a novel universe come out before (“Scour” in New Myths, is set in the world of my Karnish River Navigations novels), but “If You’re Listening…” is the first to include characters from the actual novel.

Trapped aboard the Zadie Captain Arlon Stoddard and navigator Eva Strong must make instant decisions if they’re going to get to safety.

The story is free to read at Perihelion.

Blood Relation – sci fi story in Outposts of Beyond

outposts3 My science fiction short story “Blood Relation” has just come out in the January issue of Outposts of Beyond. Sally’s waiting on her brother Bevan to decide whether to donate a kidney. On an asteroid belt-based space station running on limited resources it’s not an easy call for either kid. I’m still waiting on my copy, but it looks like a bunch of interesting stories in there. It’s available in print from the Alban Lake Store for $8.

Memory book – short story at Fiction Vortex

fiction vortex
My dieselpunk story “Memory Book” has just come out in the online speculative magazine Fiction Vortex. It’s been a while since I’ve published any ‘punk’ – mostly I’ve been writing straight sci-fi and literary pieces.

This one’s got a giant seaplane, an invading army and a little piece of ancient, lost technology.

______________________________________________

Candace watched the big plane arc around the outside of the bay. Up on Rothan Promontory, the highest point overlooking the village, the breeze carried to her the heady sweet smell of pollen from the ocean of flowers that covered the hill between the rocky crest and the sand of the beach below. Spring had come in warm and bountiful; the flowers were blooming and the orchards, if the weather kept up like this, were going to bear a vast crop of fruit.

continue reading.

After all those noes, a yes.


It’s worth sticking with it. I’ve lost count of the rejection slips I’ve received this year. Give me a second, I’ll go check…

… back now, thanks for waiting. It’s fifty-four. 54 rejections so far in 2012. That’s from around 25 stories out and circulating. I’ve had a few acceptances, but mostly for non-pay* or token pay anthologies/magazines. Most days when I get a rejection, the story goes out to another publisher the same day. I love these days of email submissions: so much easier than back in the dark ages of envelope, stamp, return envelope and postage, printed cover letter, fresh print of the ms because the last publisher crumpled their copy.

Why send it out again ever? Well, publishers have different opinions, different needs and different expectations. On occasion some particularly generous (ie who has the time?) editors give some feedback… and the feedback can be wildly different: the aspects of the story they found didn’t work will be entirely different. I also keep trying to remember that last of Heinlein’s rules – keep it on the market until it is sold.

The new acceptance is from a New Zealand literary magazine – Takahe – who’ve published stories of mine before. It will be nice to be in print again.

*Why take no money for a story? That’s kind of contradictory to good business sense, no? Well I guess part of it is my ego is still tangled up in there. Another part of it is that when I come to self-publish the story through Triple V as an ebook (and possibly print), then the rights revert to me immediately.

Finalist in the Writers of the Future Contest

I’m a finalist in the Writers of the Future contest. There’s a press release about the current finalists, and that’s my name right there amongst them. Me. Wow. I’m feeling stunned by the news. There is still that next big hurdle – to actually win one of the prizes (and I’m not holding my breath; so often I have been “the bridesmaid and never the bride”) – but it feels very encouraging. It’s as if I’m on the right track. Kind of like how excited I was to get a personal rejection from Asimov’s. It wasn’t an acceptance, but I got a sense of having jumped up a notch.

If I don’t win one of the top prizes, I’ll enter again, and keep entering until I’m no longer eligible* Writing fiction at this level has been a long time goal and it’s good to see that I’m going in the right direction.

In other news, my current total word count for the year is just about to hit the quarter million mark. 249,224. I’m coming to the end of this round of tutoring, which does slow the writing a little. My regular daily goal is 1000 words (you can see I average more), but during tutoring that’s slowed to an average of just under 300 (lowest day: 132, but I did get through a bunch of marking). You know what, though? Today, even with tutoring, I’m going to do at least 776 words and hit that quarter million word milestone.

Best of luck to the other finalists. (and thanks for your message, Martin).

*From the rules: the Contest is open only to those who have not professionally published a novel or short novel, or more than one novelette, or more than three short stories, in any medium. Professional publication is deemed to be payment, and at least 5,000 copies, or 5,000 hits. Despite my string of publications, I only have one at that professional level – a children’s radio story broadcast in New Zealand many years ago. Believe me, I’m working hard at getting more and, while I’d love to win Writers of the Future, I’d love to become ineligible too.

The best of 2010

December 31st, 2010

I’ve published a lot of stories this year, as you can see from my bibliography. They’re all, for one reason or another, personal favourites, though some I might have thought a little less of have proven more engaging for some readers. I’ve tried a variety of styles and genres this year, from hard sci-fi to humourous horror and been published both in print and online.

Anyway, this selection is my favourite five online stories from the year:

Fledgling (The New Flesh)

Sunset Photographer (365Tomorrows)

Jacob’s Naked Aquarium (Bewildering Stories – selected for best of quarterly review, 3rd quarter 2010)

Zemogorgon (Pulp Metal Magazine)

Zombie-Eyed Girl (Flashes in The Dark)

___________________________________

Overall, it’s been a good year, a banner year in fact – I’ve published more this year than all previous years combined – exceeding my own ridiculous goal (lesson: aim high). I still have so much more to work on and a set of new goals that will push me and challenge me – I will publish far fewer pieces, but look for longer stories, and different approaches.

See you in 2011.

These Things Are Illusions in Trunk Stories

Trunk Stories is another print anthology from Static Movement and editor Chris Bartholomew – an anthology of lost and forgotten stories.

My story – one of the longest I’ve ever had published at around 8000 words – was written about five years ago, went to a few publishers, and didn’t make it to print. I still like the story – about an older stepbrother visiting a blended family, initially grating on everyone, but eventually enthrally his younger stepsisters with an adventure story – and I’m stoked to see it in print.

Trunk stories is available from Amazon and also (at a discount, with reduced shipping for $ break spending) from the Pill Hill bookstore.