The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.
Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman. Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune. She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.
Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.
Walt accepts two part-time jobs. One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.
Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective. The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.
While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.
Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?
Chapter 15
After Mother’s funeral I kept driving. I wasn’t ready to go home and be alone. After nearly an hour of circling back and forth across Boaz, not sure why I didn’t opt for country-driving, I turned on Industrial Blvd., and headed to The Reporter.
Claire was standing beside the receptionist when I walked in. Sweet and homely Claire led me back to a sometimes sweet and always beautiful Regina. She was frowning when she looked up and saw my face.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I will never forgive myself. I absolutely forgot your Mother’s funeral. How could I do that?” Regina said coming over and wrapping me in her arms.
“Don’t fret. Forgetfulness pursues age, and honey you are aging fast.”
“You seem jolly for a man who just buried the most important woman in his life. Ever.”
“Dear, do you mind if we change the subject. I’ve spent the past several hours around folks who believe my mother is now walking streets of gold in the high and holy Heaven.”
“Okay, let’s sit.” Regina said peeking my cheek and pulling me over to her round table in the back corner of her office. Do you mind if I run something by you?”
“Always and forever, I am listening to your every word.” I said feeling romantic for some strange reason.
“You recall me describing my phone call with big sister a while back. I think mine and her heated conversation was the Tuesday morning after Kip Brewer was shot.”
“I remember you two had a pretty rough scrape.”
“That conversation boiled up in my mind a couple of nights ago when I was tossing and turning, half-awake, and half-asleep. I’ll call it a dream of sorts. And, get this. You kept appearing, you and your steno machine. Is that funny or what?” Regina said straightening her a-little too-tight black dress.
“Not at all. I was there to record, exactly record, you’re every word. Truly, I brought my magic machine that, once I’m properly wired, enables me to hear your thoughts. I was there to make sure today you have full awareness of the exact words you used to describe my aging, but manly physique.”
“What are you smoking Walt Shepherd?”
“Back to your dream, before you forget.” I said, entranced, as always, by her blue eyes.
“Here’s my idea. The Boaz Stenographer, every week, on Saturday, in The Reporter.” She said, scanning a page in an-unfolded magazine, probably The New Yorker.
“That makes perfect sense.”
“I want to have a weekly column written by a different person every week. It will be, hopefully, from a cross-section of the Boaz community. Think with me here. Belinda got upset with me for reporting what happened at the Town Hall meeting at the Bevill Center. I only reported the facts. Earlier, when I first moved back home, she and I had had a very direct conversation about my role here at The Reporter. I carefully described my duty to report the news, even if it stepped on toes. Any reasonable person could understand my words.”
“I’m not sure I’m exactly following you.” I said sitting up straighter in my chair.
“Spoken words are more easily forgotten than written words, for obvious reasons. Your job as a stenographer is to accurately record what you hear. Correct?”
“Correct.” I said mimicking recording ‘correct’ on a steno machine.
“Oh, Walt, don’t be cute. Seriously, let’s talk specifics. What if The Reporter had a standing invitation, one printed in all three weekly editions, to the Boaz community, to listen for a sentence, or two, maybe three, you know, a statement, from someone, either in person or on TV, Radio, YouTube, etc. Something of importance. Now to an example.
One night you are watching Fox News.”
I couldn’t resist so I interrupted Regina, “oh dear, give me a break.”
“Shut-up and listen. I thought you were an expert listener.”
“I am. Go on.”
“Okay, you’re watching Fox News and you see a clip of an interview or a speech by President Kane. You hear him make a statement, let’s say he said, ‘I know more about ISIS than all my Generals,’ or some stupid shit like that. You make note of the exact statement. Before the newspaper’s deadline for the week, you write out whatever you want about the statement, hopefully there are a few folks around here that will have something to say about such a dastardly statement than, ‘Kane is brilliant.’ Once you’ve drafted, say, a 300-word piece, you email that to The Reporter. We will review all submissions and choose one.
“I love your idea. Can I tell you why?”
“Well, of course, doofus.”
“For one, it starts a conversation. It also, assuming you guys here at The Reporter select diversely, creates a conversation of multiple thoughts and opinions. In sum, The Boaz Stenographer will report, accurately with great hope, relevant news. But, let me warn you.” I said.
“Okay, I’m listening, I’ll even record you.” Regina said picking up a pencil and reaching for a yellow pad from the middle of the table.
“If the weekly editorial is remotely controversial, and I cannot see why The Reporter would choose anything else, you, The Reporter, will create a tsunami response. How do you plan on handling that?” I asked.
“I see what you are saying. Do you think we need to create, your word, a vehicle allowing folks to react? Facebook and their commenting method comes to mind.”
“Seems to me that the community’s response, better put, knowing the community’s response, would be helpful to The Reporter. Otherwise, you will only know what the fringe things, the ones who will call in and leave you dirty messages, that type thing.”
“I agree, now that you say it, we need the ability to capture the response to the weekly edition of The Boaz Stenographer. I’ll talk with our tech department to determine whether it best to use the newspaper’s Facebook Page, or our website.
“Another thing, if you are still listening and still interested in my thoughts.” I said.
“Ready my man, thought you were just all talk and no action.”
“How about we save that conversation to tonight. Yes, that’s a date invite.” I said.
“Probably, Tuesday nights are not so bad. I can be free by seven.
That okay?”
“Perfect. I’m cooking your dinner. Come straight to Shepherd’s Cove and wear that dress.” I said smiling oh so slightly at the gorgeous Regina.
“Back to business. Did you have another thought concerning
The Boaz Stenographer?”
“Yes, I’m thinking the newspaper’s editor, might want to print her own opinion on the matter. Why not write it the following Tuesday, assuming the Stenographer’s piece was printed on Saturday.”
“I like that. I also recall, from my dream, the true meaning of The Boaz Stenographer. Each person, everyone who writes in, will be a stenographer. Because they are supposed to be accurately recording what they heard.” Regina said.
“Well duh. I got that a while ago. Sorry about that. Seriously, I love your idea. But, I have one request.”
“Here we go. Walt always wants something.”
“Will I have an equal chance of being published?”
“Absolutely. That assumes, you have something relevant to report. Now, get out of here. I have a powerful mouthpiece to run.” Regina said reaching over and squeezing my right hand.
We both stood and enjoyed, well, I did at least, a long hug and embrace. When I barely slide my hand down onto her right hip, she pushed me away.
“You’re about to start something you can’t finish old boy. Now leave.”
I walked out smiling.
The Pencil Driven Life 