The following is my entry in the WritersWeekly.com 24 Hour Short Story Contest – Winter 2010. I just received an e-mail from Angela Hoy that the time line has expired (my entry is already in for several hours), ergo I feel free to post my entry here.
The Bleeding Hills – A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss
The Bleeding Hills – A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss
The Bleeding Hills
By Wilfried F. Voss
Published by
Copperhill Media Corporation
158 Log Plain Road
Greenfield, MA 01301
USA
Copyright © 2009 by Copperhill Media Corporation, Greenfield, Massachusetts
The story you
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Even though this is an excerpt from my novel, this short story is complete in itself. The scene is a pub near the town Cahersiveen in Ireland, and the story leads to the lyrics of The Boys of Barr Na Sraide as written by the Irish poet and playwright Sigerson Clifford.
Even though this is an excerpt from my novel, this short story is complete in itself. The story describes a scene in an Irish pub in a Boston neighborhood where a young man with an Uilleann pipe plays a session of three songs. These songs remind the main character of The Bleeding Hills, Finnean Whelan, of his upbringing in Ireland, and my story describes three stages of his life.
The idea for “Cemetery Polka” came after I wrote an article on the importance of a good title for an article or even a book. “Cemetery Polka” is actually a song by Tom Waits, and I used the title as an inspiration to write a short story.
I felt, I should be writing an update on my novel American Male Prostitute. I am still in Germany (see also my blog entry The Lonely Cold Hotel Room), and traveling here, plus the preparation, took all my attention away from writing. I am finally in the right mind set, and whenever I have time to write I make good progress, usually between 2,000 to 3,000 words per writing session.
Whenever I hear Lonestar’s song on the radio I can’t help but yell, “You gotta turn off that air-conditioning!”, very much to the dismay of my wife, who loves country music. Now, she can’t listen to the song without thinking about air conditioners, which is even worse.
For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.
- Lord Byron
Okay, things are getting a little weird. I am putting in a lot of work to promote my novels and, consequently, my web site, but I did not expect the e-mail inquiry I received today from Bruce in New York in regards to my new novel
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