Tag: Diane Cook
It’s All an Illusion
by Cookster on Jul.31, 2010, under Fiction, Stories
My friend, Sarah, wanted to do a writing group on Facebook. It has been slow coming together with our writing challenges, but I got my first story written. Although for the Facebook group, the objective was to learn and get feedback on content. I wasn’t happy with the way Facebook posted our stories. Part of writing is learning how to punctuate correctly and when to use proper quotations in dialog or italics for expressing thought. Changing paragraphs to let the reader know when another character is speaking is also part of becoming a better writer. Facebook allows me the content, but won’t let my story be shown as written. For this reason I decided to post it here.
It’s All an Illusion
Thick, dark, red blood oozed from the victim’s neck trickling onto the floor. The pungent odor of a fresh kill wafted in the air. “I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over,” the special effects technician quietly said as he cleaned up his wares. I’ll show my Dad. He never thought I would amount to anything, Jason mused. This gig could possibly net him an Academy Award or, at the very least, lots of money.
Just that morning, Jason and his dad discussed the freelance jobs that paid little or no money. “You need to get a real job that pays actual cash,” said his dad. “How are you ever going to pay your bills? You’ve played around too long. I can’t just let you keep living here for nothing.” On and on, it seemed like he would just never stop, Jason’s mind kept telling him.
Jason picked up the jagged, glistening chard of glass next to the body. These effects props are made to look so realistic these days. The sound stage was dark except for a filtered light streaming through a crack in the door. Everyone had gone home for the night. Making zombie movies and hanging around on a movie set was the best job in the world; lots of parties, booze, drugs, women, you name it. As long as he had somewhere to crash free, he could do this until he hit the big time.
Voices from the overnight cleanup crew penetrated the door from the outside air. “I’ll just be a minute longer!” Jason called out as he quickly stuffed the body next to some damp rags behind the artificial landscape trees. He could still hear his dad’s voice in his head, Jason when are you ever going to become a responsible adult?
“I’ve done a lot of the work around the house you wanted me to do!” Jason yelled back at the ceiling. “Why does it never seem to be enough? For God’s sake, I spent all day yesterday sorting through mounds of garbage papers in the file drawers.” Instantly, everything became quiet. For a second he realized the night crew might have heard him. He cleaned up quickly and looked for another exit.
As the stage crew entered the side door, Jason slipped out the back. His hands began to shake slightly as he reached in and pulled the folded papers from his pant’s pocket. Again he thought about what he had done, a mistake, well maybe not. Finding this gem was going to make the act worth it. Luring his dad to the lot today was difficult, but necessary. Jason lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. There was no way he was going to let his dad cancel this life insurance policy. I could hide out for some time on six hundred thousand dollars; maybe even begin a career in Europe. It would be years before the authorities would catch up to me, he thought as he opened the back door and flicked in the match.
Black Spiderman: The Costume
by Cookster on Apr.28, 2010, under Costumes
Anyone who does crafts that require the use of superglue knows that they will eventually glue their fingers together. Spiderman wranglers are no exception. Of course I am not officially a wrangler, but at the moment I have been made in charge of gluing the “hard to reach” webs on my son Todd’s costume. Luckily we were prepared with acetone for me to place adhesive where it shouldn’t belong.
Is my costume ready yet?
by Cookster on Feb.10, 2010, under Blog Shorts, Costumes
Wow! It has been awhile since I wrote a post on this blog. I really have no excuse other than I have just been busy with other things. This year I took a break during my regular sewing binge to visit Disneyland during Halloween time. I did manage to get some costuming in during this period, though. 

A shoe of a different color…
by Cookster on Sep.09, 2009, under Blog Shorts, Non-fiction, Stories
Celebrities are splashed all over the internet with wardrobe flubs. They are either unaware of how they look or are seeking attention for their insecurities. I could very well fit into one of these categories with the exception of not being a celebrity.
Yesterday was my day for errands. Although it is September, here in Glendale the temperatures are still hovering around 104 degrees. A couple of everyday practices, such as keeping the blinds closed to keep the house cooler and getting out early before it got too hot, collided with my intended fashion sense. Having used the headboard lamp in order to see the grocery ads in my bedroom, I was temporarily blinded when I flipped the light off and grabbed my shoes. I wandered the house for a few minutes while I gathered up my essentials for my outing and headed out the door.
I had to make a couple of quick stops, so I decided to have my prescriptions filled at the local pharmacy first. The drug store was busier than I had normally encountered it because it was now lunchtime. After turning my prescription over to the pharmacy technician, I decided to cruise the store and price some items. Eventually I wandered my way out to my car and drove to the next stop. As I was leaving, I noticed a young man looking at me with a slight smile on his face. (continue reading…)
Roses, Birds, and the Number Five
by Cookster on Aug.10, 2009, under Blog Shorts, Non-fiction, Stories
Five is the number of change, and for my mother that was
certainly true. For some unexplained reason, Mom always had an aversion to the number five. It didn’t matter whether it was just the plain number or paired with other numbers such as fifteen or twenty-five. She constantly wanted to believe there was something inherently negative about this number. I don’t know when this obsession first began, but I spent many days of the last few years of her life listening to what bad things were going to happen because there was a “five” associated with it. I once asked her about this, but never got a very satisfactory answer. (continue reading…)