write the next great american novel

thenextgreatamericannovel.com

It’s the way it shatters that matters, after all

Two guys looking for work find it on a type of farm…it may be a dirt farm or that might be another story. One guy is very large in stature and the other – isn’t. The Large man’s name is Lenny and the small one goes by George. Lenny is slower than most and has a very fond affection for things soft and fluffy, such as bunnies, kitties and women. Lenny kills the foreman’s wife accidentally while petting her soft hair and so George has to shoot him like an old dog and it’s very sad because he didn’t mean to do what he did. George didn’t want to shoot him but like a dog that’s bit someone just one too many times he had to and did.

_{the end}

_Had I been two, another and myself,
Our work would have o’erlooked the world._
_{—Robert Browning}

Alright. Begin. Here we see a little boy running with a tin of coffee and a newspaper. The little boy is Italian, which is appropriate because he is in Italy – or Spain I mean he’s Spanish and running in Spain with these things.
Okay. Now he’s running along a dock and comes to a boat which he boards. Inside of the boat is a sleeping old man. The little boy is worried that the old man is dead but he isn’t. The old man wakes up.
Once the old man is fully awake they talk about baseball…let’s say – oh, I don’t know, the White Socks…he drinks from the tin his coffee and talks about things rather cryptically.
Now the boy who is very fond of the old man bids him adieu and the old man is setting out to sea. The old man is a Spanish fisherman.
The old man is way out at sea and all alone when he catches a fish, this fish he catches is not too big he will use it as bate for a bigger fish.
All the while this old man has an internal dialogue that sounds something like this,”That old sun is older than I am. I’ve beenfishing along time. What is a man without a fish. I respectfish.” And so on.
The next thing we know the old man has caught a fish and it’s the largest he’s ever seen. It’s so big it’s dragging him out to sea… He’s in awe.

Sure did.

Ask anyone.

It’s true.

_What!

Detective Dick takes his job very seriously and that night he felt particularly ill humored. Down at the station it was a standing joke with the guys how solemn he always was. Deadpan Dick is what they all called him, though never to his face. Tonight a murder was the last thing Detective Dick wanted to see and seeing it nearly made him cry… I just don’t have the heart for this anymore, thought Dick, good thing retirement is only a week away. Approaching Mario sprawled out on the sidewalk he could see that his wallet hadn’t been taken. This wasn’t a robbery. This must be a somebody done somebody wrong song…Dicks least favorite kind of music.

It was a warm and sultry night. Mario was closing up the pizza joint that he owned and operated. He had dark hair and light blue eyes. When he was pulling down the thing like a grated garage door that they use in big cities to keep burglars out he felt the knife. “Drop the money Wop”, said a disguised voice in his ear. “No”, said Mario. And then the stabbing began. Before it was all through Mario had been stabbed fifteen times in the back and neck. Now it was the detectives turn to do the stabbing…for justice.

or maybe just the first sentance.