Butterfly Effect

Butterfly Effect, A Novel by Rick Anderson Schuster
(Not to be confused with The Butterfly Effect by Andy Andrews)

Take A River Runs Through It, explode it into a dizzying mix of interlocking puzzle pieces indescribably reshaped into vague flashes of certain and uncertain intangibilities, and you have Rick Schuster’s covertly personal novel about coming-of-age on the Jersey shore, Butterfly Effect. Ken Rossi is a middle-aged swim instructor who once aspired to Olympic stardom but is now a high school gym teacher, ever wondering if he had what it takes but failed to apply himself.

Scouts had acknowledged his natural ability, sowing his imagination with seeds of a golden future. Had he not achieved a citation in Sport Illustrated? Now he wondered where the sidetracks began. Why had he failed to make the necessary sacrifices? When did he begin to realize the dream would never come true? When did his parents first recognize he’d been slacking? What were the emotions ripping their hearts that he never recognized?

The catalyst for Rossi’s self-reflective explorations is a fourteen-year-old Lizzie Norman who catches his eyes during a routine swim meet against Rahway. The teen swimmer has the moves and determination of a champion, the same kind of drive that once drove Rossi as a teen. What he doesn’t anticipate as their relationship unfolds is the manner in which she responds to his fatherly attentions.

It’s the little things that bind the two. Her broken family has filled the pool of her heart with saltwater tears, but his kindnesses instead of helping only serve to exacerbate her pain, becoming the very distraction he hoped she would not have to deal with.

Butterfly Effect explores a variety of sub-plots, including the roles of sports and scholastics in character formation, social posturing, the challenges of adolescence and the difficulty of identifying boundaries regarding appropriate and inappropriate behaviors in a post-modern age.

At times the narrative is a bit jumpy as the reader flashes back and forth between Rossi’s teen experiences and Lizzie Norman’s present struggles. It seems the author was striving to reinforce the parallels of their lives, from different locker room viewpoints.

SPOILER ALERT

In the end, Rossi and Norman recognize too late the trap they’ve made for themselves. Both lack the willpower and energy to be proactive in their liberation. When the scandal hits the papers, Rossi realizes that the whole of it began with a single harsh look by his father when he finished second in his first swim meet, a look that at the time he took wrong and only now begins to see in its true light.

Being from New Jersey I could relate to this story a Jersey teen on the edge of the Big Apple and the Big Pond, and the big world out there so near and yet so far away. The highest levels of competition involve pushing through pain thresholds that most of us shy away from. Butterfly Effect explores the internal pain thresholds we grapple with as well. Sometimes it’s just all too much.

If you enjoyed this fictional review of a fictional book, you might also enjoy The Breaking Point and Other Stories, available as an eBook for your Nook or Kindle.

Collect All Four

Don't look now, but this weekend N&L Publishing published my fourth book of fiction, The Breaking Point and Other Stories. My debut novel, The Red Scorpion, became available on Kindle and Nook on 9/11 followed by two collections of short fiction: Unremembered Histories (9/30), Newmanesque (10/15).

It's gratifying to find that TJ (my 16-year-old collaborator) and I have accomplished the task we set out to do in July: get these four books published by November. (Now I can move on to pursue my dream of a career in magic.) Like my other two collections of short stories, this collection likewise has a unifying theme. To order any book, click on the book cover over in the right hand column here.

With the exception of the light-hearted and wry Liz Mills, the stories in this short collection explore the emotions, expectations, illusions and delusions of mundane characters. In the midst of their ordinary lives there is a decisive, extraordinary event. The lead story, The Breaking Point, won the 1991 Arrowhead Regional Arts Fiction Competition. Ironically, it was the one year that the winning story was not printed. Maybe someday... for now, it's being shared in a digital version accessible to anyone with an eReader or equivalent.

Other stories in this collection include For One Night of Love, Episode on South Street and A Brief Transaction. Episode on South Street, the story of an obsessive-compulsive artist and good Samaritan, was translated into a short film that received accolades at the Erie Horror/Suspense Film Festival in 2004.

The next step for TJ & I will be promotion. As you know, with all the static and noise out there it takes more than an announcement to get attention. Each of the three volumes of short stories is available on Kindle or Nook at $1.99 each. Here's the deal:

ANYONE WHO POSTS A REVIEW of any of these books from now through the month of November will receive a signed Ed Newman ACEO (Art Card Editions & Originals) free.*

Art Cards are essentially the same size as baseball cards, and mine come in a plastic sleeve like the one I keep my Mickey Mantle card in. My ACEOs are reproductions of my art. They make great stocking stuffers. Prices for ACEOs vary widely on the Internet, but I've been selling my current ones for $5 each. (Right: With guest at my opening December 9.)

Here's a review of the book Newmanesque which was posted yesterday at Amazon.com.

"An excellent set of five unusual short stories of varying length. As usual with Ed's writing, I like that he prompts me to think. In fact, I placed a dozen bookmarks in my Windows Phone reader while reading these stories, most of them in "The Unfinished Stories of Richard Allen Garston". One word of warning: The story "Terrorists Preying" has a scene of violence with significant detail. I think that story could have glossed over the gory part without harming the story, but I'm the kind of person who hates horror movies, so maybe that's just me."

Collect All Four refers to the books, by the way, not the ACEOs pictured at the top of the page.
I have more than two dozen styles of art cards, and it's unlikely you'll collect all of those.

To see what's next, follow us on Facebook... http://www.facebook.com/NLPublishing
Thanks for following our ongoing story. I trust you're pursuing your own dream as well.

*Due to postage, this offer is good in the U.S. only.

The Breaking Point

In psychology, the breaking point is a critical moment of personal stress. What are the events that bring people to this point? How do circumstances conspire to shatter the foundations we build our lives upon?

We live in a culture that dislikes exploring the root causes of a nervous breakdown or suicide. We talk in hushed tones about these aberrations of behavior, if we talk about them at all. Usually it is something careful. "That's too bad what happened to Bill. I never saw it coming."

All the drama in many peoples' lives is on the inside. We see blank expressions or listlessness, but there's a cauldron inside and occasionally it bubbles over into actions others do take notice of. "I never knew... He always seemed like such a nice guy."

This summer I set out to prepare four books for publication, massaging half a lifetime of writings into a set of eBooks to be sold on Kindle and Nook. Three are now published. This past weekend I began assembling the fourth, The Breaking Point and Other Stories. With the exception of the light-hearted and anecdotal Liz Mills, the stories in this volume have internal upheaval as their common thread.

The Breaking Point, 1991 winner of the Arrowhead Regional Arts Fiction Competition, features the emotions, expectations, illusions and delusions of mundane characters. In the midst of their ordinary lives there is an extraordinary event.

I wrote For One Night of Love after reading a story by French author Emile Zola. Though the story focuses on the development of a character named Jeremy, it is actually terminates at another's breaking point.

Episode on South Street was written after reading a non-fiction book on obsessive-compulsive behavior. The character is an artist and good Samaritan type with an unusual disposition, driven by his own inner demons and good intentions. This story was translated into a short film that was shown at the Erie Horror/Suspense Film Festival in 2004.

A Brief Transaction is essentially a scene, a moment in time. Like some of the others here it is characterized by the ordinariness that permeates life's surfaces. The internal scenery is altogether different.

The Breaking Point and other stories will be available in early-to-mid November, if not sooner. If interested in my other collections of stories, click on the book covers to your right here at this blog. Unremembered Histories has a paranormal feature at the center of its stories. The common thread of the stories in Newmanesque is akin to the signature twist that occurs in many of my drawings and paintings. The Red Scorpion, published last month, was my first novel.

Note: When you go to Amazon.com you can read the beginnings of these volumes free. But why stop there?

The Breaking Point (Part 3)

SHORT STORY MONDAY

The Breaking Point
(Part Three)

Monday. Cassie's birthday. Carl was gone with the dawn, like those vampires of old who disappear with the break of day. It was impossible, of course, for Cassie to sleep in, and she immediately went down to make coffee after hearing his pickup pull out the drive.

"What are you doing up, Mom?"

After exploring for a minute -- in the living room, then the kitchen and all the closets, yawning and bleary-eyed, pushing back the curtain of sleep -- she began wondering the same thing. How could she explain that she was looking for, expecting, something special; like maybe a banner? a card? a signal of remembrance? ...that it was her birthday.

Hasn't your dad told you it's my birthday? Are you playing a game with me? Is this charade going to last all day? She was quickly in a frump.

"Mom, can Rick come over today?"

"Why don't you go to Rick's house?"

"Rick's mother is kind of mean sometimes."

"That's not very nice," she said carefully. She was glad her kids' friends didn't feel that way about her. "Your friends can come over, but only if you play out in the yard today"

"Thanks, mom"

Noon. No special calls. No flowers. No mention of anything from anyone.

Two o'clock. Call from sister Val. "Did you see As the World Turns?"

"This old TV set is practically --"

"Oh, Happy Birthday!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, what's up?" Val had already expected the worst; never did trust Carl; called him Carl the Cad when Cassie first met him years earlier.

Cassie was confused. "I don't know." She wanted to tell Val she'd been crying. "I feel like such a heel. Here it's my birthday, and Carl's probably surprising me with this nice present and I'm all peeved because I think he's forgotten. It's like I have this dread he's forgotten my birthday and I can't explain this damned receipt from Montgomery Wards."

"Give it time, sweets. He's probably trying to build some excitement for you." Val's attempt to sound sincere was taken at face value. Cassie was looking for even the least shred of comfort and Val was not about to dish out her own unpalatable interpretation of Carl's actions.

"Thanks, sis." Cassie said, and then, "Thad's outside crying about something. Gotta run."

~~~

Five o'clock, Carl walks into the kitchen, sees Cassie leaning on the counter, staring out the window; she hesitates, then turns and studies him. Come over here you big sweet lovable jerk, she wants to say, but the words don't come; she's holding out limp hands, but it's only a half-hearted gesture of invitation, and he fails to notice its significance, peeling off his shoes and kicking them into a corner.

"What's up, hon? No dinner tonight?"

You're just putting me on, right, big guy? "You don't have to play with me, Carl. I already know. I just can't stand having to wait any longer and--"

"Know about what?" Carl pulled back his head a notch as if peering through the lower lenses of a pair of bifocals, his chin jutting out, lips parted slightly.

"You know," she said hopefully.

"Hey, really, I'm lost. I mean I am toe-tally in the dark. So where's the eats? You gonna starve the kids, too, or what?"

"I'll pick something up at MacDonald's while you take a shower."

"Like what's the occasion?" Then he covered his face with his hand and mumbled, "Oh shit."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry. Today's your birthday! Where do you want to go? God, I don't know where my head is at sometimes." It was a tradition of theirs to take each other out to eat on their birthdays.

Cassie turned away and looked out the window again. For what seemed like a very long time she watched her son romping in the back yard with a soccer ball. Carl stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen. He knew Cassie well enough to know this wasn't a time to leave. She's unpredictable, that's certain. He was stupid to be so forgetful; that was certain, too.

Without speaking, Cassie grabs her purse and shoves her hand into the middle of it, feeling around for a thin piece of paper which she has kept folded in her checkbook. She pivots to face her husband and holds out the bill. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Hey, cool your jets," Carl says, stepping forward to examine the paper she’s holding out to him. He sees the Montgomery Wards logo on the bottom and says, "It looks like a bill."

"Know what it's for?"

Carl scrunches up his face to read it, shrugs. "How should I know?"

"It's on our account. I didn't buy it." She makes the I emphatic.

"Why would I go out and buy a color TV? We've already got one."

"I just thought--"

"Honest, Cassie, I really don't know what this is about. I'll call the store tomorrow. I'm sure it's some kind of mistake." Trying to smooth things over he says, "Let's try that new place, what's it called? Finnegan's?"

Cassie mutters "Sure, Finnegan's" through clenched teeth and they both go through the motions of letting the mix-up be nothing more than that.

STAY TUNED FOR NEXT WEEK'S FINALE

Blue Notebook, Purple Fire

More Journal Notes from my Blue Notebook, July 1990-92

1. Began outlining possible re-telling of story of Samson. Mann wrote 4 volumes on Joseph & His Brothers. Gide wrote Saul. I shall tackle the interplay of forces (soverignty and free will, grace and desire) in the life of this amazing man of God.

Two issues in Samson's life:
1) How his self-determination inter-relates with God's sovereignty and purposes
2) How he develops false confidence in his own autonomy and self-sufficiency

2. Read/finished Gide's Pastoral Symphony last nite. The writing is so fine, so rich, so simple... and the story painted so realistically. Gide is a master. His ideas are so well woven into the fabric of the story... it all fits so nicely together.

An essay on Gide mentions that he paid for the publication of his first 23 books himself, and he sold very few of ANY of them. If nothing else, he learned how to write books.

3. Completed re-write of Terrorists Preying. Need to print, edit, get feedback. It feels good to complete a story I've worked hard on, but my happiness after New Color TV* was short-lived. Maybe it was premature (more re-working needed?) or simply a good feeling because I was "done with it."

Still reading Gide -- about him now... The focus of many is on his life and his message. What about his craftmanship? His ability to re-create realities, to build believable people in believable situations, is superb. I am inspired by this master.

Two other aspects of Gide's appeal for me:
1) He deals with ideas, not simply action. His characters all have depth -- rather, his heroes do, and he masterfully probes this depth via first person viewpoint.
2) He legitimizes 1st person viewpoint, and brings new methods of achieving story effects. Is this not the way we usually hear a good tale? It's told in first person or written this way in a letter or letters. Gide understands story telling.

4. Morning thoughts focus on Samson. He led Israel for 20 years. Virtually nothing is spoken of that portion of his life. Did he ever marry again? Did he do other incredible things? The record is silent. It would seem his years were filled with relationships with friends, family, action... What did he do with those 20 years? Regrets about first marriage? Where did he live? How did he "lead Israel"? What did he do with his time? Let's imagine... He helped people. He was not totally selfish. Was he a people person? Or did he prefer being a loner? Or mixture? What did he think about? Stories of Moses, Joshua, Gideon... He thought about God... He also thought about women. Must have been about 40 when he met Delilah. He'd seen her many times before. If she was married, he didn't pay attention. with her husband gone... or did he see her growing up? Was she a young beauty? Or a more matured woman? The chapter begins with Samson's visit to a prostitute. Is Delilah a loose woman as well?

FOOTNOTE
* The story New Color TV cited above later went on the win the five state 1991 Arrowhead Regional Fiction Competition under its revised title, The Breaking Point.