Cuyler Callahan's Official Author Website

I'll Write Until The Muddy Grave Takes Me

Archive for the ‘Free Short Stories and Serials’ tag

Wolf Head Books and Publishing is Accepting Submissions

without comments

So my publishing company, Wolf Head Books and Publishing, is now accepting submissions in Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adventure, and Historical Fiction.

WHBP is accepting shorter and longer works. Shorter work will probably be put into a collection, longer works are stand alone. If you want to submit to Wolf Head Books and Publishing, click here.

I hope that I can publish stories that readers will enjoy and find inspiring.

Good luck to all those that submit.

A Hint Of Hope is My First Print Book Released

without comments

So I have finally done it. I have released my first print book. A Hint of Hope. A collection of short stories in the fantasy and science fiction genre. Everybody who is interested in my first book, please check out the publisher site link for locations and options to buy. Check it out here.

I will be planning some promotions in the future. Currently I’m working on my next book. A full length novel. More on that to come.

I have learned lots putting together A Hint Of Hope, about print publishing. The ebook version is also live and can be found for kindle, currently. Just search for it or check the publisher link. It will be released for epub in the future as well. Like I said, I’m just trying to get words down for my current novel. Check out A Hint Of Hope cover below.

 

A Hint Of Hope

Sad Endings: Should I Write Them

without comments

I have been writing a lot of short stories lately.  I wrote two new stories, and I’m going over a bunch of older stories.

 

The older stories were written for specific markets with word caps and age ranges. I wrote these stories for a writing course I took many years ago.

 

Now I’m rewriting these stories to my taste. To the age range of I-don’t-care. I don’t like writing for specific age ranges. If a story I write turns out good for the young adults, or teens, then so be it. If I write a store and even adults are cringing at the words, so be it.

 

I write what I want to write.

 

So, does this mean my stories will be popular. I don’t know.  This brings me to my question: Should all stories have happy endings?

 

When you check the “rules of writing” – you know those rules that only the God of Writing can change – it says all stories must have a ending where the protagonist must achieve his or her goals.

 

But I don’t believe that means the ending must be happy.  Also why must the protagonists achieve their goals?

 

If you have read G.R.R.M’s Song of Ice and Fire, you’ll know that half the protagonists don’t even live to the end of the book.

 

And in interviews with G.R.R.M, he says that he likes writing a story where anybody can die. Realism, gruesome realism.  I’m a fan of this. I’m a fan off anything that puts sensitivities aside and brings out the realism in any story.

 

Of course this is my opinion. Some people want to read a book were all the goals are met. They want the happy ending.

 

Well goals can be met, and endings can still be sad. Or goals can be failed, and endings can still be happy. Depends on how the writer writes it.

 

I think all writers should write what they want to write. What is the point of being a writer if you don’t get to write what you want. Screw the reader.

 

If they don’t like your writing, they can take their money elsewhere. I know that sounds rough, for the writers. We don’t make enough money as it is. But here is the catch, people will still read your work.

 

There are billions of people on this planet. There are more people that can speak fluent english in China then there are in North America. You also have India which is about the same as China.  Then there is Europe.

 

What I’m trying to say is that if ten people don’t want to read your story, one person somewhere else will.

 

Write what you want, put it on the market, then write another. If you don’t want a happy ending, don’t put one.

 

The last four stories I completed had sad endings. But they are also beginnings.I have left these stories as possibilities for more stories. Perhaps a novel.

 

Write what you want. You wanted to be a writer to enjoy what you do in life. So enjoy it, don’t let social standards conform your writing.

 

Written by Cali

November 4th, 2013 at 11:21 pm

Soldier Qualification Serial 05 October, 2010 Part 8

without comments

Well this is it. The last installment of the Soldier Qualification Series. I’m still debating if I will edit these all up and put them into one book for sale. I did mention in a previous post on the site that I might do that. But now that I look more at the whole serial, I can see that it is more of a recounting of my experiences, not really a story with problems to solve.

Anyways, this is it. No more Soldier Qualification serials after this one.

Enjoy

Cuyler Callahan

Warning: If you are offended by swearing, and some graphic scenes and scenarios, don’t read!

******************************************************************************
Soldier Qualification 05 October 2010 Part 8

After my night of living in the dream world, the 5:30 Stand Too is sounded off with some arty sims. After we freeze in our trenches for a couple hours, we eat our breakfast and start our tasks for the day. The remaining people that haven’t done the day or night recces will complete their recces. The rest of the people not on recces will fill in trenches and wrap up the barbed wire, disarm any flares.

Because I had finished both my recces, I had the privileged to fill in trenches just previously dug. Not exactly a fun task, but something that had to be done. The real bitch trenches to fill back in were the trenches we had fortified with tin.

Trenches were bad, but wrapping up the razor wire was more of a pain then stretching it out. I cut my uniform up, and myself. My combat boots received some fresh slices in the leather. Nevertheless, we got the razor wire wrapped up and back up the hill onto the trucks.

The day wears on. We are attacked a couple of times just to fuck with us a bit more. We get the camp cleaned up. We then are told to pitch our hooches on the hill. “There will be no cock tonight, just good sleep,” we are told by our staff. None of us believed it, but we really hoped they weren’t bullshitting us.

As the night begins to descend, the rest of my section that had not gone on the night recce are sent to complete the recce. The rest of our told that there will be sentries tonight still. My shift is at 5Am. Not to bad I’m thinking, so I get my stuff ready for a hasty awakening, expecting something to go wrong during the night, and I crawl into my sleeping bag and fall asleep.

“Callahan! Callahan! CALLAHAN!” I sit up in my hooch.

“What! Who is it?” I say in a half sleep drawl.

“Get your ass out here to sentry!” Myre snaps.

“But I’m not on until five.”

“I don’t care, just get out here.”

“Okay, hold on.” I’m not sure what this bullshit is, and they better have an explanation. I start pulling my pants on that are at the bottom of my sleeping bag. Midway I start dreaming again. I am on a recce, I’m in a trench under attack, I’m on a ruck march. I’m back in the dreamworld, not sure which is real.

“CALLAHAN! Where the fuck are you?” I wake up.

“What are you talking about.” I say back to Myre.

“Your on sentry. I told you twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m not on until five.”

“I just talked to you about this. Just get out here.” Myre sounded more exasperated and tired now then pissed off.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute,” I say.

“Hurry.”

I start looking for my pants. Where the hell were my pants. I couldn’t find them. I feel in the dark for my pants everywhere. About five minutes later I find them half way on my legs. That is when I realized she was right when she had asked me twenty minutes ago and I fell asleep putting my pants on.

I get dressed and start walking in the bush towards the sentry point. The sleep fuck hit again. I’m dreaming. I’m on a recce, ruck march, in trenches, doing section attacks, sleeping in my hooch.

“CALLAHAN! Where the fuck are you?” Myre hollers. I wake up.

I realize I’m not sure where I’m at. I can’t see anything, and I kept running into trees. “I’m not sure,” I try to whisper-yell back. “I’m lost out in the bush. I fell asleep and kept walking out here into the bush.”

Silence ensued. Then about thirty seconds later. “The fuck! You did what?”

“I fell asleep walking over. Sorry, just talk so I can find my way out of this bush.”

They kept saying “over here, over here” again and again. I eventually found them.

Myre explained, “Okay, when our people get back from the recce, we can all go to sleep. You just have to stay on sentry with Sherri until they get back, the staff changed it and said we don’t have to stay on all night. Me and Knight have been out here for two hours. Ahronson won’t wake up, so that’s why we asked you.”

“Okay, I see. Fucking Ahronson, but whatever, I’ll do it,” I said.

“Thanks Cali.” Myre and Knight went to bed.

Sherri and I lay on our bellies with our legs near each other so we could kick each other to stay awake. Around One the last night recce rolled in and we each went to bed.

During the night, probably around three- Im just guessing- Knight was thrashing around in the hooch, freaking out. I assume its an attack and start throwing on my bats, boots, and gear. Knight keeps on doing what he is doing, which is thrashing around, grabbing stuff. It looks like he is throwing on his stuff as well.

Myre sits up, “What the fuck are you guys doing?” she says with her chick voice.

“Stand Too,” I say, “lets go, go, go.”

“There is no cock tonight, go back to sleep.”

“Knight what are you doing, isn’t there a Stand Too,” I say to him, with a confused look. Myre looks at him as well, waiting for an answer.

Knight doesn’t answer. He just keeps moving around, making noise. I realize now, that he’s tossing his sleeping bag around violently, like he’s trying to sort stuff out with it. He still doesn’t answer.

“Fuck it, I’m going back to sleep,” Myre says.

“Ya…me too I guess,” still half confused about what just happened. Why was Knight thrashing around so much like he was in a rush, like something was going to kill him if he didn’t finish what he was doing? Why didn’t he answer? Whatever. I went back to bed.

***

The next morning at six- they let us sleep in- arties went off, and we got up, in a rush.

“Pack up your shit, we’ll eat breakfast, then ruck home. HURRY THE FUCK UP!” Sergent Moy yelled.

After we packed up, we ate our breakfast. I asked Knight again about last night.

“Ya man, it was real weird,” he said. “I woke up out in the middle of the bush, just in my liner, my legs on top of a log, and my face in the dirt. The weird part was, I had tied my liner into my sleeping bag just before I went to bed. How it all untied itself, and then me ending up in the middle of the bush, about one hundred feet away, scared the shit out of me.”

“Do you remember me freaking out when you came in, and Myre calming me down, and you not answering us?” I asked.

“Kinda, I was pretty freaked out and focused on sorting out my shit.”

“Hmm. Weird shit sleep fuck does to a person eh?”

“Ya man,” Knight agreed.

***

Our shit was packed. We all stood in ranks of two, rucks on our back. My feet were still hamburger, and extremely painful to walk on. Now I had a seven kilometer ruck back to base on those same feet. I was not looking forward to it.

We do the ruck however. We get back to base. I drop my shit off near my bed. We eat lunch. We unload the kit off the truck and clean it. Around sixteen hundred, we have all the kit clean. Warrant Kellog gathers us around him.

“Troops, good fucking work out there. You did good. Now the rest is all fun. We get to throw some grenades, and shoot some mother fucking machine guns. Have a good weekend. You are all Confined to Barracks until tomorrow. I don’t want nobody driving right now. You are all to sleep fucked. Dismissed!”

The weekend is ours. It is funny how in the field, we don’t feel our bodies pain as much. Our body seems to tense up and keep on running. As soon as we get back to base and our body knows it is time to relax, the pains hit. I could barely walk. I waddled to the showers, stayed in the shower for almost half an hour. Then went right to bed. I didn’t wake up until twelve Saturday morning.

***

The last week of SQ was pretty sweet. I got to throw grenades and shoot the C-9 machine gun and C-6 machine gun. Not more to say about that. Grenades make a large boom. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving side of the C-9 or C-6. Oh and C-9s jam way to fucking much.

We had our graduation party the night before our grad ceremony. We all got drunk. Hillman of course, got drunk like Hillman does. We eventually had a Warrant tell us to take our buddy home before he made a fool of himself and got himself in trouble. But it was a party. A good time.

We graduated the next day. It was a fifteen minute ceremony in combats. After that, course was done, the next day we loaded up our kit onto a bus and headed back to Borden, or wherever everybody else came from. We left Meaford behind, most likely never to return.
********************************************************************************

Well that is it folks. The Serial is done. I hoped you enjoyed this serial.

Cuyler Callahan

Soldier Qualification Serial 04 August, 2010 Part 7

without comments

Wow, I haven’t written on this series since march. I want to finish it, but it will probably take one more after this serial. These next couple serials are not going to be as properly written as my last serials. Not sure why I don’t want to write it as proper as the last ones. Guess I just want to finish this series, and kinda losing motivation on it. So I know the last serials where not properly written either. Bad grammar, incorrect spelling, bad writing form. Well this will probably be worse.

Fast and furious, with less correct story telling methods as even the last serials. So lets finish off the story with this serial and the one after and commence.

Enjoy

Cuyler Callahan

Warning: If you are offended by swearing, and some graphic scenes and scenarios, don’t read!

******************************************************************************

Soldier Qualification 05 August 2010 Part 7

The next stuff that happened of interest on my time in the field on SQ was setting up barbed wire defenses and flares. Sergeant Moy was with me as I set mine up. Now I felt quite nervous. The stuff they use in these flares is white phosphorous. If I set off the flare on accident while setting it up, I’ll get that stuff all in my skin all over my body. The fire doesn’t stop burning until the phosphorous runs out. Water won’t do anything at all to put it out. There is only one way to get burning phosphorous out of your skin; cut it out.

So of course I’m pretty nervous, I’m setting it up. Sergeant Moy actually gets a bit of a compasionate side I guess you can say, and tells me to, “Calm down Callahan. It’s alright, just take it easy.” He lead me through the process and I set it up. For some reason I get more nervous setting up flares then throwing grenades.

Later I go on a day recce with Sergeant Song. I’m the radio man so I get the big back pack radio. Not really sure how much it ways, but probably close to thirty pounds. It really isn’t much of a problem for me to carry. My problem was the damn gortex boots I put on. Earlier that day I put gortex boots on my feet cause my regular Combat Boots were wet from my recce the night before. They were broke in from wearing them before, but my feet don’t do good in Gortex at all.

On our recce my feet turned into hamburger. They got blisters all over them. The back of my heel felt like it was getting shred to pieces. Sides of my feet got blisters. The bottom wasn’t to bad.

After we got to our recce point, which was a bridge, we sat and talked with Sergeant Song. I leaned against the bridge railing and actually managed to fall asleep basically standing up. “Hey Callahan. You alright brother.” Sergeant Song said. I, startled, stood up real fast.

“No problem Sergeant.”

“Good lets get back.”

We got back to camp and just as we set down our equipment, we get a big old “Ruck Up!” from Warrant Kellog. Next thing you know, we are walking extremely fast, then running, shuffling, with our rucksacks. My feet are bleeding, and I can feel my boots digging into my feet. It’s a quick three kilometer ruck, but it seems like forever with the pain in my feet. One and a half kilometers in, they stop us in a forest and get us to set up our hooches, crawl in, and sleep. I sleep, for about 5 minutes, then a hear that whistling sound. The sound we all hated with a passion.

“Pack up, and Ruck Up!” Sergeant Moy yells. We pack up our hooches, our kit, ruck back up, and walk, run, and shuffle back to the camp. I can’t remember how I made it through the pain. It was bad. I am not totally sure how to explain the pain my feet were in. Maybe I could say it felt like they were cut with knifes and had salt rubbed in. Every time I took a step, my feet felt like somebody was cutting them.

We got back and Warrant Kellog started yelling. “SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WAS FOR?” Most of us looked at each other really not even knowing it was punishment. I myself thought the Warrant and staff was trying to feel time and give us some bullshit, for training purposes. But I guess it was meant for something else. Nobody answered the warrant. Most people didn’t know what to say.

“It was because I went down around the trenches and found kit laying all over the place! PUT YOUR SHIT AWAY YOU FUCKTARDS!” Warrant Kellog actually looked like he was going to turn red. But I remembered him telling us to put our shit away, and I guess some of us didn’t, so punishment was called for.

“Now go get some supper,” Kellog said more calm. We got our punishment, he was satisfied.

After supper I changed my boots. Wet or no, I was wearing my combat boots instead of those god forsaken gortex. I vowed from that point on to never wear gortex again. I took off my socks, painfully and looked at my feet. I had a blister on the back of each heel that was the size of a toonie, and stood up about twice a toonies width.

I but on extra socks to cushion the rubbing. Even with my combats, they would still rub now that I had a blister already. Some people swear by gortex, others hate it. I’m a gortex hater. They are basically water proof combat boots. At least that is the way they look. I’m not sure what the big difference is in structure cause they look very much the same. But what ever it is, it fucks my feet bad.

***

That night on sentry, shit went real weird on me. Sleep deprivation kicked in, and I had the hallucinations we all talk about. Now mine was not so much my mind making stuff up, but more of my mind playing extreme tricks, along with me being to sleep fucked to tell between dream and real life, or the mixing of them.

So we are sitting in our trench on sentry. Myself, Knight, and Myre. I’m getting that half sleep half awake effect where I’ll see with my eyes, but my brain will turn it into something else. Then I’ll snap full awake, and look around, then doze off again. I never fell fully asleep, but things were getting bad in that department. I start having dreams while awake.

First I didn’t even think I was in a trench on sentry. I thought I was on a night recce following some others through the dark. I don’t know how long that went on, but I remember just walking, and talking with somebody. I had a C-9 and bushwhacked in the dark, trying to follow those in front. I even remember my tille hat getting knocked off my head.

Next thing I know, I think I’m in my trench. But I actually was the whole time, but I thought it was a dream at the time, cause I snapped to and was back in my trench. From my trench to my trench. I know it seems weird, but one trench I was half asleep, the other I was awake.

Then I’m in my hoochie sleeping, but I wake up, in my dream, and I move around trying to get comfortable. Then I sit up and I’m worried that I should be outside not sleeping. So I’m sitting there trying to figure out if I’m dreaming or not. It was so fucked. Like I said, I’m half asleep half awake. I’m dreaming while awake, and enough so that I have mind enough to sit and wonder if I was actually dreaming or not, if I was suppose to be outside.

But the whole time I am in my trench, Knight beside me, Myre beside him. I’m back in my trench again, this time awake enough to realize all the other shit was a weird dream. “Woah,” I said.

“What?” Knight said.

I didn’t want to look retarded. “Nothing, nothing.” I pop in a pinch of skoal hoping the nicotine will wake me up. I look out. I start to see shadows. Running shadows, hundreds of them. They are getting closer, they are over running the trenches. Why is nobody firing? “Shit we are sentry”

“Ya we are man,” Myre says.

“No no.” I am afraid I’m dreaming I don’t want to shoot. I don’t want to get charged for a negligent discharge. So I yell, ” STAND TOO, STAND TOO!” People need to get up and fight. I’m freaking out.

Knight looks at me, “What the fuck man.” I’m freaking. I’m thinking we fucked up big and that the defenses are over run. Both Myre and Knight are freaking cause I’m freaking, but they don’t see what I see.

“STAND TOO! STAND TOO!” I yell again.

“CALLAHAN, shut the fuck up!” Sergent Moy yells at me. I point at the hundreds of men running over the defenses.

“They are everywhere Sergent. Hundreds of them.”

“That is fucking smoke Callahan. I threw it. It is for us. Your seeing shadows. If we had hundreds of GD staff to play as enemy force, well that’s never going to happen on our budget. Don’t worry, your fine. Now watch the fucking defenses, and no more false calls.”

Now thinking back on it. I’m not even sure I got what he said to me properly. He told me the smoke was for us. It was night out, real dark. Nobody can see the smoke- just me the shadows. Did he really throw smoke out for us, or am I just fucked and thinking that’s what he said, but he actually said something else.

After this little dream charade of mine, where I saw stuff I thought was real, but was a dream, saw things from shadows, I could see how mistakes can be made where innocent people are killed in war. For instance, the shadows. What if I was in a real war, and that was just some civilian walking down the road, but the shadows gave him a gun, a helmet? What could happen then where I make the mistake and actually shot? Or the opposite where there are actually enemy forces attacking the fort silently, but I just thought they were shadows and didn’t want to bother sleeping friends. What then? I think sleep deprivation is probably one of the best weapons to use against your enemy.

*******************************************************************************

I hope you enjoyed. Watch for the series finale coming up… not sure when. Just watch for it.

Cuyler Callahan

Featuring Recent Posts WordPress Widget development by YD