Short Story
Published in Dragon #218 (Magazine ) -- June, 1995, Barbara G. Young , ED.
Reprinted in Dragon Compilation (CD ) -- October, 1999, David Gross , ED.
On Writing "The Time of Leaving" |
"The Time of Leaving" took longer than my average short story--several months, actually. It is a basic and straightforward tale of a young man who has now grown up and is faced with some difficult decisions. Weaving his global problem--do I set out on my own?--with his situational problem--how do I handle this visitor?--was a complex process. I would be amiss if I didn't mention that I owe a nod of thanks to some friends (mostly members of my on-line writers' group) for their patience and their feedback. After an arduous process of wringing the story out, I e-mailed it to five or ten people and anxiously awaited their replies. The responses started trickling in a few days later. They all pointed out at least something of use. As is always the case, though, one in particular stood out and made me think. In the original version, I ended the story with Garrett, the young man, riding off into the sunset (or some magical manifestation of this). Louise Rowder, bless her heart, had the fortitude to make a comment that went something like this: "If Garrett has undergone his final test, why do I feel like he failed?" Momentarily feeling my heart sink, I knew she was right. From that moment on, I knew exactly how the story would end. With the end in mind, I finished the story fairly quickly. By the time I was done, I had the story I had wanted when I first sat down. It was a lovely experience. Everything seemed to click into place. A short while later, Barbara Young phoned me and bought it. Looking back on it, I learned a lot about writing from this story. But I learned more about life. A short time before it was published, my wife's family was embroiled in the process of caring for her grandmother. Everyone in the family took turns with her, including Lisa who drove down to Louisville several times, sitting by Nana's side and looking out for her. Lisa has a very strong family. And I was proud of the way they comported themselves. I didn't write the story with them in mind. In fact, the story was written before their ordeal began. But the message in its pages seemed to relate well to them, and its publication coincided with the time period of Nana's death closely enough that it still gives me eerie chills sometimes when I read it. What more can a writer ask of his work? |
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Excerpt: He turned back. The canyon's walls were blood-red this time of day, stained so by the last dying rays of the sun as it set behind the castle. For a moment I thought he was going to ignore my comment. But finally, he spoke. "How long have you been apprenticed to me?" I answered, knowing he was fully aware of the span. "Fifteen years." "You are no longer a boy." I cleared my throat. "I am twenty-two, no longer young." "And your magic is now stronger than mine." "Yes, Davrin. What is your point?" "Why have you not left to search out your own fortune like the rest of my apprentices?" I looked at him and considered my answer. The contour of his face stood out above the depth of the canyon. The lines chiseled in his cheeks were suddenly deep, like the shadowed crevasses that ran down the cliffs. How do I tell him that I am afraid, that I cannot rely on magic alone? How do I tell him that his strongest student cannot trust himself, that my nerves run unchecked when I think of leaving this castle? "There is more I can learn from you." "What further lessons do you think I have to give?" Bitter wind whistled over the exposed balcony, filling the momentary silence. "I will know when my time of leaving comes." | |
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