We few (meaning I, Aaron Courts, the only person here), at The Sword & Pen, have a lot of irons in the fire, bulls in the shoot, rounds in the chamber (wait, that one doesn’t work very well) … Boy, this could go one forever.
The point is, I said that my plan was to publish something every couple of weeks, and the last piece I published was in the middle of May. Now, I promised not to bog anyone’s inboxes down, but May!?!? It’s time to haze myself thoroughly! I want to reassure those who have chosen to support this Substack monetarily and those that are just here for a good time, that their confidence is not misplaced in what I’m doing.
As some of you may know, I took an indirect academic path after enlisting in the Marine Corps, and by the time I was transitioning out of the Marine Corps, I had changed my major three or four times, and chose to focus on classes that I was interested in (entrepreneurial business) or the ones where I could learn a tangible skill (digital photography). I don’t regret any of those classes, but what ended up happening was that I had been in school for two decades and remained a year away from my BA in creative writing. What’s worse is that I was looking at a servicemember transitional program which had a minimum prerequisite of an associate degree. I called my advisor, shifted my degree plan, and had my AA in hand within the quarter.
Fast forward some years, and I’m back. I will have my BA in English and Creative Writing with a concentration in Fiction in a few terms, and thanks to the VA’s, Vocational Rehabilitation and Employment Program, I will roll right into my Master of Fine Arts program. I have published essays on Substack, I’m working on various other writing projects, including a novel, and I’m able to spend quality time with my girls. Life is golden, and there’s not much I would change.
The summer term began in June, and I have been spending most moments working on literary analysis and a fiction writing workshop and every spare moment with the girls. The start of my classes happened to interrupt the short story I was working on which should have been published in July. I’ll haze myself for the delay, but it was unavoidable. I can’t publish a half-prepared piece— I just can’t— and I know that you wouldn’t want to read it.
With that in mind, I thought I’d pull the curtain back a little bit. These are the projects that are coming down the pike. You can expect to read each of them in the coming weeks and months. Now these are in a general order and subject to change depending on completion dates and the editorial process, so don’t be alarmed if the publication order is shuffled a bit.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the line up and short story excerpt, so keep reading and please share your thoughts below…
Short A (sheriff and a killer)- title to be determined. In final revision and editorial process.
Essay on the commissioning of original art- I have received all of the originals and prints, so this one will begin to take shape soon.
Non-fiction travel essay on sailing the BVI- my fie went on an amazing all-women’s hands-on sailing adventure which I think others should consider taking.
Non-fiction biographical essay on checking into a Marine Corps barracks- Title to be determined.
I wish that I could offer more at this time. What I can give you is a brief taste Short Story A (untitled at the moment). Please enjoy and know that your patience and support are greatly appreciated and will be rewarded soon.
Elias sat in his car and smoked a broken cigarette from the soft pack of Marlboro's he pulled out of his left breast pocket. The brass lighter, dulled from decades of use, clinked as he opened and closed the lid. The evocative smell of lighter fluid and struck flint lingered in the air and made him want a drink. He looked at the pack through the steering wheel, hanging limp in his hand, and noticed a few specks of dried blood across the gold embossed letters. Alias had taken the pack from the killer’s own shirt pocket after dragging him to the patrol car and hauling the body into the trunk. Without thought he’d torn off the cellophane wrapper, as he always did, and carelessly let it catch the wind and blow away. “Some cop I am,” he said, thinking back to that moment. Smoke escaped his mouth with the chuckle that followed and continued to bellow long after the self-deprecating observation had been made.
He left the car locked and began walking towards the government building. Elias was running late from the cigarette he’d milked, so his pace was faster than normal. It was unusually cold for this time of year, and he felt a little winded from the walk and his tar slapped lungs and age. A trail of labored breaths drifted behind him like steam from a battered locomotive. Meeting? This is a summons, even if it comes with an invite.
Elias considered briefly the irony of a sheriff being put off by participating in the investigation of a possible crime. Of course, he’d committed this crime, so there was that. He chuckled again and whispered as he passed the flagpole still absent its colors, “Some cop, indeed.”
For everyone— I appreciate you and look forward to sharing more and more with you soon! For the paid subscribers— those whom I appreciate the most (don’t tell anyone that please)— know that I am working on more information for you, specifically. The idea is to reward you few, you proud and lovely few, with insights into the process. This would include things like research material, outlines, working drafts and manuscripts, and scheduled virtual conferences with the writer, etc. I encourage you to comment with your thoughts on the value of this sort of information and let me know if there’s something else you might want to see. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to publish what you want, but I can promise that I’ll consider it.
I would love to hear what you have to say about the excerpt, and what you think about the line up? What story are you most interested in? All of your thoughts and comments are most welcome and very much appreciated.
Semper Fidelis,
Aaron Courts