New

1 BLANK SCREEN

Joyce Peterson

Howard sat in the darkened room and looked at his computer. What he saw was a blank screen. Damn, Damn, Damn!! His publisher had given him a measly $10,000 advance but, now, the money was gone and so were the words. He was sure he could do another novel, but, so far, he was wrong. He heard the rain pelting against the window pane. Somewhere in the neighborhood there was a dog howling. He felt a sudden hate for anyone who would leave a dog out in the rain. The ringing of the doorbell brought his thoughts to the Blank Screen. If he could only get started. For him, starting was one of the hardest parts of writing a novel. The bell rang again.

He didn't know why they should give out candy to the little "devils" and "angels" who did nothing but break their windows by batting balls when they didn't know how to hit a ball with a bat, or ruining their flower beds by riding trikes and bikes through them because they had never been taught how to guide them.

They had gone through this last Halloween. Ellen had said, "They're just kids. I'm sure our kids have irritated our neighbors playing ball or riding bikes. Halloween's supposed to be a fun night. Just hand out the candy in the bowl on the table near the door, while I take the kids out for trick or treat." That was last year, when Howard wasn't occupied with writing a new novel. The doorbell rang again.

"ELLEN!!," he called. There was no answer. Damn, damn, damn, again! Ellen had probably gone out with the kids to pilfer candy from the neighbors.. She might have told him, but he had been too occupied to hear her. He got up and made his way through the family room and started through the darkened living room. Ellen always liked to darken the house and put the porch light on. She thought it made the kids feel welcome. He could see the porch light was on by its reflection in the door window.. Then, he fell over the footstool. After a few more cuss words and kicking the stool out of the way, he got to the candy. He took a piece, unwrapped it and put it in his mouth.

The sweet taste helped soften his attitude and he threw the door open with a hearty, "Well, who have we here?" All he got in return was mist, from the rain, in his face. He looked up and down the street, but there was no one. He pushed the doorbell to be sure that that was the sound he had heard. It was. He hoped Ellen and the kids had taken refuge with one of the neighbors. He was sure that Ellen would call if she wanted him to pick them up.

He closed the door and started back to his computer. The light from the computer in a far corner of the family room brought on more anxiety about the novel. When he sat down, he could see there was something on the screen. He knew there were some of his computer literate friends who probably had the knowledge to break in on his screen. Blazoned across it "It was dark and stormy night…" When lightening and thunder lit up the windows and shook his house, he thought, "Boy, did they have that right."

Looking at the words again, he knew they were familiar but he didn't know why. He clicked on "Google" then typed in the phrase and told the computer to search. The first thing that came up were excerpts from an old English book. "It was a dark and stormy night" had been the start of it. He read a bit of the story that had been published there, but gave it up. "I don't have time to read someone else's words, I need to get started on my own."

Then he thought, "That was a great beginning for the 1800's, but too cliché for today. Maybe I could rephrase it, make it up to date. It still seemed more familiar than a quote from an old book he had never read before. However, just having a thought, for a beginning sentence for the new book, made him feel better.

The door bell rang again, and again, and again. He got up, reluctantly, and made his way through the dark, picked up more candy and ate it. This time he opened the door slowly. He got more mist, from the rain, in his face. He looked up and down the street again. A bolt of lightening showed him there was no one, any place.

When he got back to the computer, something had been added to the beginning words. Now, it read, "It was a dark and stormy night and all the boys were gathered 'round the campfire." As any writer would, he thought, "The first words have shown me how I might start, maybe I could use this part, too." Let me see, I don't write about boys but they could be men gathered around a campfire. Why would men be gathered around a campfire? They would probably be gathered around a pool or the bar closeby, having fun while the company would list it as a get together to talk over last year's failures and, hopefully, successes for the new year. Then he remembered that the government had really frowned on those long distance get-togethers paid for with company funds. Why couldn't a company comply with the new low budget gatherings and do it at a campsite?

Howard suddenly remembered his Boy Scout troop. That was why the words were so familiar. They had sung them when they went camping. He tried to bring back more of it when the door bell rang again.

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