This is not an excerpt from our gripping thriller ‘Your Last Breath’, but rather a snippet from our main character’s life before he became a serial killer. More journal entries from my co-writer, Doug Lafuze, to follow. Please read and enjoy.
I’m starting to feel as useless as my father thinks I am. Damnit!!! No matter what I do, I just cannot write anything useful. I’ve been trying for weeks now. Nothing comes. I know what the story is to be about, but nothing comes out. It’s like, when I sit down at the computer, I suddenly forget what words are. I am surprised I have the ability to write this damn journal!!!!!!!! Martin says it’s writers block. Whatever it is, it’s pissing me off big time!!
On a positive note, I got the job at the hardware store. So far I like it and the money is good. I stock shelves, wait on customers and make deliveries occasionally. The owner of the store, Mr. Heath, also owns another store so I will run over to it to help out, or take them things they need. It’s a nice thirty minute drive in a company truck that I get paid for. Sometimes I take the scenic route and it takes a little longer. My co-workers are nice, most of them. There was a girl working there named Janet that I thought about asking out, but she quit a few days after I started, so I haven’t seen her again. There is a woman at the other store who is coming on to me. Her name is Tammy and she is weird. She’s like, old and all, and I guess you could call her grotesquely sexy, if that makes sense. I don’t know. She’s like, all fat and shit and wears clothes that are way to tight for her. I really don’t like to look at her, but then sometimes, I get the urge to hit it. Damn she’s confusing… via Ray’s Journal, 3rd entry