#20 The Confessor of Littlefield

Bill Dinklpfuss sat up, his bed shrieking like an awakened banshee. The floor boards beneath him creaked as he settled himself and slowly duck walked through the dark, around the corner and into the bathroom. He was a couple inches shorter than the average Great Lakes American man born in 1941, with thick legs, small…

#19 The Confessor of Littlefield

This installment is 5000 words, more than twice the avg. of the prior installments. When I read this back the sequences seem to flow pretty fast, while revisiting the themes that are important to Adam. The tone is a little rough by design to show the middle aged man who has purged himself of the…

#18 The Confessor of Littlefield: 1950’s – John Boy

This installment introduces the writings of Bill Dinklpfuss. Adam, the storyteller, has arranged these sequences as he becomes more immersed in the telling of the story. The author bleeds into his characters, just as a part of me bleeds through, but this installment and #19 are the bridge writings that introduce the background of the…

#17 The Confessor of Littlefield: Plot and Alienation

In this installment Adam is working out the theme of alienation and self doubt as he brushes these vignettes. He makes his living as a free lance illustrator.  I am 55 years old, my character, Adam is 44 and confronting his own individualization and alienation. He is a 44 year old free lance illustrator who…

#16 The Confessor of Littlefield

This installment is a creative prose presentation. I had a lot of fun with this part of the novel. It is a series of vignettes presented by Adam to show his identity as author, not only of his own life, but also that of the Littlefield he imagines based on his understanding of history and…

#7 The Confessor of Littlefield: The Wiper and the Blade

My own persona is building itself into the greater circle of John Hapflik, Bill Dinklpfuss, and this small Great Lakes town. My voice has enacted an auxiliary existence at the special service of itself. I am a dreamer; something that isn’t appreciated in pragmatic America, much to my chagrin and consternation. This is my narrative…