Tag Archives: Stephen King

When Discovering Aberration is a Good Thing!

LADIES AND GENTS: Prepare yourselves for a wonderful treat! One of my dearest and earliest bloggers I met here on WordPress in the beginning, has done all I set out to do except he actually, actually accomplished it!

He is the hardest working, most dedicated author I know of and one of my fave authors sharing that honor with Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Clive Cussler, and yes my main man Charles Dickens.

Sit back, enjoy your read, and please dearest readers, please repost!  Let’s spread the word!



There is this thing out there floating around the universe hiding secretly behind every passion. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s there planting seeds and fueling flames. The Romans called it a Genius (origin of the word Genii), a spirit that would inhabit the bodies of passionate people and make them feverishly create things.

I don’t know if I was ever possessed in such a manner. All I know is my life has been driven by a singular passion since I was young. Maybe it was planted when I was very small, this urge to create things and share them with others. Maybe it didn’t take form until I was older. Whatever the case, this passion, this creative drive has fueled every major decision in my life.

Hi, my name is S.C. Barrus and I’m a writer. I remember writing my first short story back when I was still in elementary school. It was a satire about the growth and bankruptcy of Microsoft and it was all of 2 pages long. I wrote it grinning all the while, convinced that the work was genius.

I was so excited to hear what others thought, I ran to my dad and began to read the work aloud. He listened patiently. He didn’t laugh, didn’t so much as smile. As my jokes fell flat, part of me fell through a hole.

I quit reading midway through. “Maybe I should write about something else…” I said nervously.

My dad looked at me with a quizzical half smile and said, “Maybe you should.”

For some reason, I didn’t stop writing that day. And my dad has been a huge support since (didn’t want to leave him hanging there ;)

I was in highschool when I really sat down and began writing a novel. I wrote it with a deep passion convinced it was a masterpiece. It was full of teen angst and sex and drugs, all the things my adolescent mind obsessed with, and was written with a style stolen directly from Chuck Palahniuk, my teen hero.

When I finished writing, I started exploring the strange world of publishing with a fervour. I taught myself about publishers and editors and agents, about queries and rejection. The process struck me as strange then, but I accepted it because I supposed “that’s the way it is”. It felt strange that I had put in so much work and alone created something, but when the book sells I’d get 15%. But then again, what did I know?

Despite my drive, the book was never picked up, and I was left with nothing but a stack of pages littered with ink. To this day, I’m glad I littered those pages with ink, because I learned so many valuable lessons. But I’m also glad it didn’t make it, because that taught me even more.

Despite the outcome, my creative writing teacher got behind me, and my school counselor began giving me gifts; books of poetry, pamphlets to writing contests, and an award for literary excellence. It might have been obvious, but I didn’t recognize it at that time. There were people guiding me from the beginning, people who believed in me.

Ira Glass once said that artists start creating art not because they are talented, but because they have good taste. It takes years before an artists work is any good. I was going through the motions, hoping to make a great work of art, writing and writing all the while. I pushed new stories into the world one after the other, sometimes publishing, but usually merely for the act of creating.

Then, two years ago, I began crafting another story. About midway through the writing of it, I realized that this was it. I was creating something worth standing behind and sharing with the world.

Check back next week for part 2 where I share with you the story behind my upcoming novel.


S.Cody Barrus



Oh The Plots We Weave: A Normal Guy and a Smart Guy ..Oh and Eating Crow

Oh the Plots We Weave

Mondays are Plot days.  Stories from the press with a few ‘whys’ and ‘what ifs’  which could be the makings of a possible story line.  A bit of creative brain exercise.  Yes I know this is Tuesday but since the last few days have been spent with my Scots Cuz Rachael and other family members, ‘making merry’ as Bob Cratchit would say, I have seen neither newspaper or telecasts.

So today’s ‘What ifs’ are really one line from two different stories, one last week and one from ages ago that I tucked into my grey matter for future use and wonders of wonders was able to extract.

The first was a headline in our local rag; MAN ACCUSED OF ARSON AND MURDER A NORMAL GUY.  Huh????  For some reason the press decided to lead with a statement from the accused’s brother.  Being a wordsmith my response remains ‘Huh”?????  I mean I suppose there are some possible ‘what ifs’ but geez (wordsmithing again) they pretty  much only extend to alien or evil possession and that story has been told time and time again.

The other line from a past story concerned a man whose office was relocated to a very high newly constructed building.  Some of the office staff were apprehensive about safety issues.  The man said he would show them how safe it was and launched himself against the plate glass which promptly broke and he fell to his death.  The statement in the article was, “He was a very smart man.”

I’m sure he was but the statement begs another big ‘Huh’???? I am not sure I can even come up with a what if for this one.  Can you?

Have you witnessed or read anything in the last week that got your mind churning with ‘what ifs’.  They are all around us just waiting to be snapped up.  My hero Stephen King does it all the time.

Now for that less than delectable lunch of crow:

My sibs and I are very close and really like each other.  My brother Keith who is less than a year younger than I is more like me than not.  At least that is what his wife says.  I have always placed my brothers on well deserved pedestals, but there is one specific situation in which we clash.  It has now happened twice in the last two years now.

Here is the scene:  five people are driving in a car to a specific location.  The same location as two years ago.  Our destination is in an area I frequently drive through.  He does not.  I am sitting in the back.

Me:  Keith what route are you taking?

K: 52

Me and my sis in unison:  FIFTY-TWO??????

Through further dialogue not necessary to record here he finally goes my suggested route.  Once we arrive at our destination he madly drives first down one road and then down another until he in fact finds 52.  Not a word is said as we proceed back to our target.  When we leave at evening’s end he quickly heads down the road to 52.  Nary a word is spoken by me.  Somewhere in the conversation earlier he said something to my cuz in the front seat about not having duct tape when you need it.

Okay here comes the Crow eating. Ahem (clearing throat).

Dear Brother,  whilst my directions did get us there I have to confess openly, and generously, and modestly, that left to your own devices you would have reached your destination just fine.

PS (not for Keith’s eyes) I still could have gotten us there more directly.

PPS Next time I shall supply the duct tape and apply it to myself prior to launch.

PPPS I just love how magnaminous I am!

PPPPS I guess 2 head-ons in 2 years isn’t so bad.

***It is highly unlikely that my brother will not read this as he does not read my blogs.  However there is a chance my cuz may.