Author Interview on Spillwords

Hey Everyone!

I'm honored beyond words to have my interview with Spillwords posted this month. Here's the link to check it out.

https://spillwords.com/spotlight-on-writers-jim-bates/

Who's Who of Emerging Writers Anthology

Hey Everyone!
This is exciting news. I have been included in book Who's Who of Emerging Writers published by Steve Carr and Sweetycat Press. I am honored to be included with this fabulous group of writers. The link is to a Youtube video promoting the book. Enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=OX2GTZgnU8A&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR1ZJUyMR8stz-Pb4K4JtbG0y3JRVSlOxQka_3HMIsDqRZKtSWfiMIvIncQ

Acceptance Letter for The Standoff

After being slammed with rejections lately, I thought I'd share this positive response from David Gardiner, at Gold Dust Review:
"Hello again James.
This is a very fine piece of writing, and I will be happy to accept it for publication in Issue 37 of Gold Dust, due out about mid-June. I like the suggestion that the narrator might be something a bit more than human, without its being too explicit. The backdrop is also beautifully painted. I see no need for an edit."
Wow. Thank you, David!!

Music On the Wind - Talking Stories Radio

Hi Everyone!
I'd like to share with you Talking Stories Radio #36.
My story, Music On the Wind, is the second one. I hope you enjoy the entire program. Tony does a fantastic job.
https://www.mixcloud.com/EastLondonRadio/talking-stories-36/?utm_campaign=notification_new_upload&utm_medium=email&utm_source=notification&utm_content=html

Two Stories In the World of Myth Magazine

Hi Everyone!

I'm happy to share two stories with you that are featured in this issue of the World of Myth Magazine. Click on the link below and go to 'Stories' to check them out.

http://www.theworldofmyth.com/

To Hold a Hand

Many thanks go out to Dagmara for featuring this story!

https://spillwords.com/to-hold-a-hand/?fbclid=IwAR09H-CFFU4LTWqSO3KjqNrb8PITDTzn8MTWquRq55nxQ8vI_xvV8lBNjTg

Twenty Twenty Anthology

Hi Everyone!

I’m thrilled that my flash fiction story, Bath Tub Gin, has been included in the Twenty Twenty anthology published by Black Hare Press. A portion of the proceeds goes to the Australian brush fire wildlife charities.

https://www.blackharepress.com/twenty-twenty/

Here's the story:

Bath tub Gin

Big Ben Barker ran the bootleg arm of Mickey Finn's operation on the south side. He ran it like clockwork and with precision. Mickey called him Ben. Ben Barker's boys called him Boss. And the ladies all called him Mr. Big because he was, well, he was rumored to be well endowed, if you know what I mean.

            Yeah, it was a fact that the ladies liked Mr. Big and he liked them. Especially Laura Lane. Man, she was something else. A dancer at Club Go Go, she could shake it like no one he'd ever seen. She wore a black cloche hat decorated with gold sequins, and silver silk flapper dresses that shimmered under the spotlights, showing off every curve of her body. Wow! The first time he'd seen her he wanted her like no body's business. And the first time she'd slid out of that dress in his bedroom...Well, when they said that the sky was the limit they didn't even come close. There was no limit as far as Laura was concerned. She'd do anything he asked her to do and leave him begging for more. His desire for her knew no bounds.

            No bounds that was until Doris Dalrymple came along. Jeez. She was really the cat's meow. Better built than Laura, Doris knew her way to a man's heart that was for sure, and it wasn't through his stomach. Whew! If Laura wore him out, Doris did it in spades.

            But Big Ben wasn't getting any younger. After a few weeks of trying to manage it with both ladies, he decided one of them had to go. He flipped a coin and was only sad for a moment. Sorry, Laura. It'd been nice to know ya'.

            He knew Laura wouldn't go quietly. Plus, she knew too much about his organization and his business. Enough, anyway, to get nasty if she wanted to, which he figured she would after he gave the news that he was dumping her. So he came up with a fool proof plan.

            He booked the presidential suite on the top floor of the Ritz for that Saturday night. He had his boys fill the gold plated bathtub with gin, knowing that gin loving Laura would appreciate the gesture. Then, after he'd gotten her good and drunk, he'd drown her in the tub and claim it was an accident. Easy.

            That night he took her to dinner and dancing at the 21 Club. Around midnight they left and went to Ben's favorite speakeasy for drinks. After they'd had a few he leaned in close enough to get a good whiff of her Channel not to mention a eye full of her cleavage and said, "Hey there gorgeous, how about you and I blow this place and head for the Ritz. I've got a room for us."

            "Oh, honey," Laura said, slurring ever so slightly, "You've got a treat for little old me?" She rubbed her hand against his crotch. "Well, I've got one for you, too." She giggled as she stood up and sauntered off, swinging her hips, driving him and his own personal Mr. Big crazy.

            He hurried to catch up and took her by the arm, drooling in anticipation. "I'll have one of the boys drive us," he panted.

            Half an hour later they were in the huge bathroom.

            Laura purred like a kitten, "Oh, honey, look at all the gin for little old me." She dipped a finger in and licked it.        

            "All for you, sweetheart." Ben watched her slide her finger around in her mouth and could barely contain himself. Maybe just once more for old time's sake, is what he was thinking as Laura sashayed up to him.

            "Aw, honey, give me a little kiss," she said wrapping her arms around his neck. "Umm. You feel good."

            Ben couldn't help himself. In a moment captured by his uncontrollable lust he grabbed her in a tight embrace and ran his hand up and down her firm behind.

            Laura ignored his hand as she felt him grow hard against her thigh. That's all she needed. She slowly turned him until the backs of his knees were propped against the rim of the tub. Then she nibbled on his ear lobe whispering, "Oh, my, baby. You feel so good." She rubbed against him sensuously. "Who do you love, honey?" She rubbed some more and took hold of his belt buckle. "Hmm? Do you love little old me?"

            She felt Ben's hot breath in her ear. He murmured, "Oh, baby you know how much..." He never finished his thought.

            Laura put her hands on his chest and pushed. Backwards he tumbled, splashing into the gin. "What the.." he was starting to say when Laura reached over to the vanity, turned on the electric radio and dropped it into the tub. Still plugged in. He shook and jiggled and jumped, splashing gin over the sides of the tub and onto the floor.

            Laura laughed at Ben's shocked expression. "Do away with me, baby? Not on your life. Oh, wait. I guess I was wrong. On your life, sucker!"

            It took less than a minute, and then he was dead.

            Half an hour later she emerged from the elevator of the ritzy hotel looking every bit the beautiful woman she was. She stopped by the front desk and said, "I think there's a problem up in the presidential suite. Something's clogging the drain on the tub."

            Then she sauntered across the lobby and out the front door never to be seen or heard from again. In her purse was twenty thousand dollars taken from Ben's wallet. Or Little Ben as she now thought of him, because in truth that's what he really was. Tiny, even.

            She smiled, as she waved for a cab. One pulled up right away. "Airport, ma'am?" the cabby asked.

            "Yes, thank you. And please make it a fast. I'm in a hurry."

            He saluted and grinned. "You bet, beautiful."

            She sat down in back and breathed a sigh of relief as the cab peeled away from the curb. Life was good. She was a beautiful woman and she had money, more than enough for airfare to the Bahamas. More than enough to start a new life. No one would ever find her. She stared out the window and watched the lights of the city stream past. She'd never see those lights again and she smiled. That was just fine with her.

 

Nailpolish Stories

Hi Everyone!
Special thanks to Nicole at Nailpolish Stories for publishing two of my twenty-five word stories this month. You can see them at this link:

https://nailpolishstories.wordpress.com/

or view them below:

Get Mod
After news of the mass shooting he threw his guns away. Then he bought a camera and traveled the country taking photographs of anything living.

Tangoed In Love
His baby girl grabbed a dandelion and stuck it in his face dusting him with yellow pollen while she laughed and laughed. It smelled like love.

Sticks and Stones - The Drabble

Hi Everyone!
It was a real treat to have my poem featured on Feb 13th on The Drabble. You can check it out by following the link and scrolling to February 13. I've also posted it below.

https://www.thedrabble.wordpress.com

Sticks and Stones
They went every summer,
Hiking along the shoreline,
Hand in hand,
exploring.
She was an artist,
Who once did a painting of the rounded rocks and grey driftwood they found.
She called it Sticks and Stones,
An enduring testament to their love.
Laura is taking care of Connie, now,
As her memory fades with Alzheimer's,
She reminds her of them walking together along that long ago shore,
A time, though she may have forgotten,
She captured forever in the soul of that painting.
Their love for each other,
And her ability as an artist,
Lets those memories live on,
Forever.

Glamour Romance Anthology by Clarendon House Publishing

Hi Everyone!
I'm super excited that my story, Do You Believe In Magic? is included in the Glamour Romance Anthology published by Grant Hudson and Clarendon House Publishing. Check it out if you get a chance. A lot of my friends have stories in there, too!
https://www.clarendonhousebooks.com/anthologies
Here's the story:
Do You Believe In Magic?
            Carrie and I were out to dinner, sharing a meal at our favorite restaurant, George and the Dragon. We'd been dating for over a year and were thoroughly enjoying each other's company, so much better than our previous relationships. We were young, in our late twenties, and both had good jobs: I was a software engineer for a medium size electronics company and Carrie worked in the art department for a graphic arts design firm. We'd met at a stargazing class the winter before and had hit it off immediately (under the glow of the Aurora Borealis, I might add.) Now, after all these months, we'd grown very close and felt like we had something special between us.
            It was Saturday, February thirteenth, and our date had been a chance to celebrate the end of a rather hectic work week for each of us. Earlier in the evening we'd gone to the Guthrie Theater to see Glensheen, a captivating play set in the nineteen twenties about the life of a young servant girl at the Glensheen Mansion, located just north of Duluth on the rocky shoreline of Lake Superior, a place we visited every chance we got. We'd decided to top off the evening with a late night dinner at George's, and it had been as scrumptious as usual. We were enjoying a shared dessert of crème brulee when out of nowhere the magician appeared, and he changed our lives forever.
            He introduced himself as Theodore and asked, very politely, if we minded if he entertained us with, as he put it, "Some special magic."
            Carrie, being artistic and left brained, immediately said, "Sure. Sounds like fun."
            Me? Well, I'm analytical from the word go and didn't believe one bit in magic, special or otherwise, but played along since Carrie seemed so enthusiastic.
            "Great," Theodore said, smiling as he handed me my watch, saying, "I believe this is yours."
            My first thought was, Hey! How'd he do that? But I didn't spend much time dwelling on it, because I was immediately hooked.
            Theodore regaled us for maybe twenty minutes. He didn't do your normal sleight of hand card tricks or anything like that. He was way more subtle, and I think that's what not only impressed both Carrie and me, but also drew us into his world. He took a silver coin, made it disappear and then reappear under my water glass. He pointed to my shirt pocket and asked if he could borrow the spoon that was sticking out of it. Once he said, "Excuse me. Is this yours?" as he reached down to the floor and picked up Carrie's thin, gold chain necklace and gave it to her, much to her delight. And then a few minutes later, did it again. He was marvelously entertaining.
            But it was his last bit of magic that really blew our minds and it's stayed with us all these years. I hesitate to even call it a trick - it was so much more.
            He was getting ready to leave, after handing Carrie her necklace for a third time, when he paused and asked, "Excuse me, but you two seem so happy. May I ask how long you've been together?"
            "Just over a year," Carrie said, giving me a questioning look, like, what's going on?
            "Why do you want to know?" I asked, keeping my voice pleasant. With someone else I might have felt he was prying but not with him. He was just so engaging, and a nice guy to boot.
            "I was just wondering. I get the feeling that tonight's a big night for you two. Is that right?" he asked, in all seriousness.
            We both smiled a little at him.
            "Well, not much more so than any other night," I said.
            "Just a normal date," Carrie added. "Why?"
            "Oh, nothing," Theodore said, looking perplexed. Then he lifted an unused napkin, "It's just that I thought this might be yours."
            He picked up an object from underneath and set it between us on the table. It was a ring. A thin, gold band with tiny agates encased around it that sparkled in the romantic restaurant lamplight. It was beautiful, and, I swear, looked exactly like one we'd seen on a trip we'd taken up to Lake Superior that last summer. We'd come across it in an agate shop in Two Harbors and remarked on its beauty, both of us thinking at the time (but not saying it out loud) what a perfect wedding band it'd make someday for Carrie.
            Theodore let the ring lay on the table and then stepped back. I looked at Carrie. It had been such a wonderful evening, like all of our times together were. We were not only happy together but good for each other. The best part of my life was being with her. In that moment, something came over me, a tidal wave of love and emotion that was overwhelming, and, with it, the certainty that she and I were meant to be together for the rest of our lives.
            I picked up the ring and said, "Carrie, I love you more than life itself. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
            I'll never forget what she did. She leaned over the table, kissed me and said, "I thought you'd never ask."
            Then I slipped the ring on her finger (it fit perfectly) and we giggled like school kids, looking into each other's eyes, knowing without a doubt that we'd made the right decision.
            After a few minutes, it dawned on me that it was Theodore who had prompted this unexpected event. I wanted to thank him, however, when I turned to do so, guess what? He was gone.
            Later, when we went to pay out bill, I asked the manager about the magician. He shocked us by saying, "There was never a magician here. Never was, never will be. Don't need the hassle."
            Well, that was curious. But we didn't dwell on whether the manager thought Theodore was at the restaurant that night or not. For us he had been, and that's what was important. On our way out the door I glanced at my watch. It was now the early hours of Sunday, February fourteenth.
Carrie and I have been married over thirteen years now and have two wonderful children. We celebrate our engagement at George and the Dragon every year on Valentine's Day, where we have a romantic meal, share a crème brulee for dessert, and talk about how lucky we are that we are together. And you know what? Every time we go there it never fails to take us back to that remarkable night so long ago, when we made a lifelong commitment to each other, and I went from being a skeptic to a believer in the mystery and power of magic.

The Mesabi Miner - Flash Fiction Magazine

Much appreciation to Keely for choosing to feature my story today. Thank you!!
https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2020/02/11/the-mesabi-miner/
I've also posted it below. Enjoy!

The Mesabi Miner

The huge iron ore freighter was thirty miles out when Jerry Jorgenson saw it appear on the horizon, barely visible, a tiny spec. He pulled down his seed company cap to shade his eyes, and used his binoculars to watch as the ship slowly made its way toward where he was standing, close to the shipping canal between Lake Superior and the Port of Duluth. They say that death and taxes were what you could always count on. Well, to that you could add the Mesabi Miner, thought Jerry, as he watched the huge vessel's slow but steady progress. The freighter had been carrying iron ore back and forth across all of five of the great lakes for seventy-three years, Jerry's entire life. It was as dependable as the day was long, was how he looked at it.          

            It took nearly two hours for the ship to make the journey, and as it approached the entrance to the canal it began slowing down, making ready to leave the lake. By now Jerry was surrounded by a boisterous crowd of men, women and children from all walks of life. Everyone was excited and the festive atmosphere blended in perfectly with the bright sun and warm sand and raucous seagulls. The huge vessel was so close he could almost reach out and touch it's riveted steel immensity: one-thousand feet long, one-hundred feet wide and over fifty feet deep. It was fully laden with nearly eighty-thousand tons of iron ore, and it gave him a thrill beyond words to be standing so close to it.

            The wheel house was seventy-five feet above the water. Unexpectedly, a figure appeared at the small window, leaned out and saluted good naturedly to those gathered below. It was the captain. The crowd called out and waved back excitedly. Not Jerry. He wasn't what you'd call a demonstrative person by any stretch of the imagination. Instead, he watched closely as the captain doffed his cap, expecting to see a grizzled and weathered seaman. But that's not what he got. He did a double take, and then had to raise his binoculars to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. They weren't. It wasn't a man who was doffing a cap and commanding his beloved freighter. It was a woman. And, even more remarkable, she wasn't even very old. He was stunned beyond belief. What was going on? Was this a sick joke of some kind? What had happened to manly tradition and the stoically competent seafarers who were supposed to be safely guiding the huge iron ore freighters across the always treacherous Great Lakes? More to the point, what was this woman doing on what he always thought of as his ship?

            Jerry could not accept what he was seeing. It made him almost physically ill. Then as if to add insult to injury, the captain (That woman!) shook her head and set free long tresses of blond Scandinavian hair that shown in the sun like the finest imported silk. Her tanned face broke into a big smile as she gave the jovial crowd an impish wink and waved enthusiastically to them.

            Jerry was aghast. She's going to smash that ship, that's what she's going to do, he thought to himself. I'll bet my pension check from the steel workers union that she's going to sink the Mesabi Miner to the bottom of the canal. Then they'll be sorry. Everybody knows that only men have the knowledge and skill necessary to make it through that narrow passageway and into the port beyond. He folded his arms tightly across his chest in a huff, as if challenging her to fail. Then he watched and waited, expecting the worst.

            If the young captain could sense Jerry's skepticism, she didn't let on. Undaunted, she turned seriously to the task at hand and, like thread through a needle's eye, she cool-handedly guided Jerry's beloved iron ore freighter through the narrow canal into the safe harbor beyond, completing the Mesabi Miner's journey by tooting it's horn three times. The crowd erupted as one and began wildly cheering. Not Jerry. He turned away in disgust, the roar in his ears almost too much to bear.

            He took two fast steps, and in his haste to get away almost knocked over a young girl about ten years old wearing a Minnesota Twins baseball hat. As he sidestepped her it occurred to him that his own granddaughter was about the same age. She was a delight to be around and was already an accomplished hockey player. It dawned on him that her mom, Jerry's daughter, was about the same as the ship's captain. She not only was a wonderful mother, but also a highly respected veterinarian. Damn. It was a pain in the ass to do so, but he had to admit that the world he used to know was changing. Sometimes too fast for him, but it was.

             He quickly apologized to the young girl who smiled and said cheerfully, "That's okay, mister."

            He took a few steps and then stopped and thought to himself, Hell, that lady captain actually did do a good job steering the freighter through the shipping canal, way better than I could have anyway. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly as the realization hit him. Yeah, she really was pretty good.

            He straightened up tall, having made what was for him a momentous decision. He turned and gave the departing vessel as snappy salute. Then he begrudgingly joined in with the crowd and began applauding.

 

Never Ending Job - Potato Soup Journal

Hi Everyone!
Special thanks to Julie and Chandra for selecting my story for today.
http://potatosoupjournal.com/never-ending-job-by-james-bates/

Fear of Snakes

Hi Everyone!
Thank you to Gill James for featuring my story today!
https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/02/fear-of-snakes.html

Autumn Leaves - Academy of the Heart and Mind

Hi Everyone!
If you get a chance check out my story Autumn Leaves featured today at the Academy of Heart and Mind.
https://academyoftheheartandmind.wordpress.com/2020/02/06/autumn-leaves/comment-page-1/?unapproved=7333&moderation-hash=3bf6358afda94a79e6469aae83e5654c#comment-7333

Autumn Leaves

We waited off to the side for our order, all three of us quiet, unused to this. Sure, we'd eaten at McDonald's before but not under circumstances like these - me taking Sammy and Elise out after school because I couldn't take them back to what used to be our home. Lynn and I had been separated for six weeks and it was still weird, mostly with the kids. Well, especially with the kids. Lynn and I...Well, we'd grown apart and just weren't good for each other anymore. The separation made sense for us, but this estrangement from my children was pretty bad. I only saw them a couple of times a week after school plus every other weekend. I guess I just hadn't anticipated how emotionally traumatic it would really be; both for them and for me.

            "So school's going okay?" I asked Sammy.

            "Yeah, it's good, Dad."

            "How about with you sweetheart? Have you made any new friends this year?"

            A heavy sigh from my precocious seven year old and then, "Yeah, Daddy. Remember? Brianna and Emma. I told you already."

            Oh. Sure. Right. She had.

            Shit, I hated this. We used to be comfortable with each other. Conversation? Never a problem. Ten year old Sammy would go on and on about his favorite class, science, and the experiments they were conducting and what he was learning. Elise would tell me about her friends and who liked who and who was being mean to who. It was our own unique kind of communication, and it had been nice. Comfortable. We'd been close to each other. Now this, this drifting apart. How could things change so dramatically in just six lousily weeks? The reality was right in front of me. What had I expected?

            Our order came up, and Sammy helped me carry the trays back to the play area where we normally sat. While we ate the kids watched the other children playing and slowly the mood began to lighten, all of us being in a familiar setting. When they finished, Sammy said, "Dad, can we go play with the other kids?"

            "Please, Daddy," Elise chimed in. "Pretty please."

            Happy to see my children excited about something, I readily agreed. "Sure. You guys go for it." I smiled and checked my watch, "Fifteen minutes, okay?"

            "Okay," They said in unison and off they went.

            I watched them playing, first with each other and then with the other kids. It was gratifying to see them acting like they normally did and having a good time. Someone told me once that children had a built in capacity to be survivors and apparently the statement was true. I just needed to give my kids time to adjust, the credit to be able to do so, and to be there to help them along when necessary. I could do that. As hard as the estrangement was for me, I was committed to helping Sammy and Elise get through it with as little emotional damage as possible. My own personal survival? I guess I'd just have to wait and see.

            Later on the way home we drove by a forested park. We were at a stoplight when I noticed both Sammy and Elise gazing out the window. It was late October and most of the leaves had fallen from the trees. The ground with thick with them.

            Sammy turned to me, "Dad, remember when we used to help you rake the yard?"

            "Yeah," Elise said, "We'd make those big leaf piles and jump in them?"

            "That was really fun," Sammy said, wistfully. Then he went back to looking at the park.

            "Yeah," Elise added, gazing longingly out the window, uncharacteristically subdued.

            I was drawn to looking out the window, too, traveling back nostalgically into the past, reliving those old memories. Playing in the leaves had been fun. A lot of fun.

            What the hell. When the light changed I made a snap decision and turned left into the parking lot, squealing the tires a little.

            Sammy looked quickly at me, "What are you doing, Dad?"

            I was supposed to be taking them home but, instead, was suddenly motivated by seeing my kids reminiscing happily about a past memory. "I thought we could check out the leaves. You know, play in them."

            The energy level in the car soared through the roof. It took only a moment before both the kids yelled, "Yea!"

            We played in the leaves for nearly an hour, until just before sundown. We made piles and jumped into them and had leaf fights and threw armful's of them at each other and ran around like there was no tomorrow. The three of us hadn't laughed so hard in weeks; since before I'd moved out.

            At one point I called Lynn and told her I'd be a little late getting the kids back. She said that that was fine and asked what we were doing. I told her we were playing in a park.

            "Well, that's good, Philip. The kids always liked doing stuff like that with you."

            Later, I dropped Sammy and Elise off with a big hug for each of them and a promise to see them in two days. Then I drove to my apartment building and took my backpack to my single room efficiency. I took out my laptop, lifted the lid and went to boot it up. That's when I saw it. Set on the keyboard was a single beautiful leaf - a burnish red and orange maple leaf - left by my kids. There was a note, too, written, I could tell, by Sammy, and signed by both he and Elise. It read, We love you Dad.

            I have to say that I got a little teary eyed. I walked to the window and looked outside. In the fading twilight I could see clouds racing across the sky and leaves swirling along the ground. I'd be with Sammy and Elise in two days and I was already looking forward to it. Maybe we'd go back to that park and fool around in whatever leaves were left. My guess was that the kids would like that. I would, too. Yeah, that was a good idea.

            I wiped my eyes and returned to my desk where I carefully laid out the leaf and the note. Their thoughtfulness was overwhelming. The future might be uncertain, but there was one thing I knew for sure - tomorrow, as soon as it opened, I'd go to the store and get a frame and put both the leaf and the note in it. Then I'd hang it on the wall just to remind myself that one way or the other the kids and I would get through this. It was written in the leaves. We belonged to each other.