A Sample of My Work

(scroll down for writing sample)

Fiction and non-fiction require two very different skillsets. There are plenty of excellent bloggers who are no good at writing fiction and there are plenty of world-class fiction writers who can’t seem to come across as relatable on any form of social media no matter how hard they try. Of course, there are writers who are bad or great at both.

I can’t tell which of the above camps I fall in. I’ll let you be the judge.

In my estimation, fiction is more difficult to execute on a professional level than non, but it’s also more forgiving. Errors in non-fiction tend to be more glaring, perhaps because of the straightforwardness of a journalistic style, or the need to sustain an air of credibility. It’s also easier to hide mistakes in fiction. But when non-fiction is injected with a healthy dose of personality (especially on something as informal as a blog), non-fiction readers can be just as forgiving.

As I said, spelling and grammatical mistakes can subtract from any writer’s credibility, especially when someone’s claiming to be an expert on something. But so long as you know your fundamentals and know how to defend your viewpoint, it’s difficult to mess up a technical document, opinion piece, or the like.

On the fiction side, however, even if the spelling and grammar are perfect, there are countless ways to screw up even a simple work of fiction.

As a result, fiction has a much higher ceiling. Any work of fiction has the potential to become a piece of art with a timelessness that even the best, most personal, most life-changing non-fiction couldn’t dream of. But it also has a much lower floor. A clumsy execution can make a piece disappointing, or even embarassing.

With that, I leave you with a snippet from Chio Pino: A Reverse Retelling of Pinocchio.

Context: About a year before this scene, Chio’s mother passed away. Chio hasn’t been able to sing since and has been stuck in a deep, dark depression. Her father recently convinced her to go back to school. This is the night before she returns. I hope you enjoy.

Donning a fresh nightgown, Chio lit a sweet beeswax candle and climbed the stairs to her room. And, let me tell you, that place was fit for a princess. There was a four-post canopy bed, a collection of wooden parade horses, a gilded vanity, a music box with a twirling ballerina, and a castle playset with every member of court. Can you imagine?

But there were remnants, too. Things Chio just couldn't put away. A stack of bound letters sat in the corner collecting dust and some rolled-up posters leaned against the wall. She crossed the room to her vanity where a rose locket her mother used to wear dangled from the finial. She gazed at that locket with sad fondness. How could her mother have left so suddenly without saying goodbye?

Heaving a sigh, she grabbed a brush to work out the kinks in her hair. That’s when yours truly decided to speak up.

“I'm mighty proud of you, going back to school.”

“Gregory, is that you? You gave me a start.”

“Beg pardon. I'm down here, in the castle courtyard.” I waved my top hat.

“Look at you. My brave, little knight.” Chio was trying to be her old self, but kind words couldn’t hide her somber tone.

“I'd like to come along, if you don't mind.”

“To school?”

“Sure. Someone's got to make sure you turn out more like this…” I hopped near the princess figurine. “And less like this.” I gestured at the fool.

“I'm old enough to realize I'll never be a princess, and I can handle not making a fool of myself perfectly well.”

My, my. She was sounding more like her mother every day. “Apologies, Miss. I'm sure you can.”

“On second thought, being a fool wouldn’t be so bad.” She cracked a mischievous grin.

I crossed my arms. “Just how do you figure?”

“Well, fools can do whatever they want without a care in the world,” she declared as she climbed into bed.

I gave a laugh. “Maybe for a little while. But sooner or later, you catch the king on a bad day and ... Oh, I just don't want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Worry not, Sir Gregory,” she said with a yawn. “I don't want to be a fool. Not really. I just want to sing again.”

“You will, little one. Just give it time.”

In the wee hours, Chio tossed and turned. Given the situation, who could blame her? She opened her window and, high above the Collodi rooftops, stars shone like diamonds in the crisp, clear sky. Chio wondered if her mama was up there somewhere, watching over her.

That particular night, one star caught her eye more than any other. It shone ruby red and stirred a magic deep inside her heart. Now, Chio had tried wishing her mother back many times before. But this time felt different.

Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight.
I wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I make tonight.
I wish … to be a famous singer, so I can make my mother proud and bring back joy to my father’s heart.

A mighty fine wish.

At first, nothing happened. Why would it? But sure as I stand, that red star grew brighter and brighter. And down from the center of that dazzling star floated a lovely maiden with a face white as wax, wings that shimmered silver, and turquoise hair that sparkled in the moonlight. To say I was mesmerized would be an understatement.

The fairy smoothed her crimson dress and sat beside Chio, gentle as could be. “You look just like your mother,” she said. “You really do.”

Chio's sapphire eyes stared transfixed. “You knew my mother?”

The fairy nodded. “And I know you, Chio. I'm here to make your wish come true.”

“Can you make me sing again? Truly?”

“Truly I can,” said the fairy with a soft laugh.

“Oh, that's wonderful!” Chio sniffled. “Thank you ever so much.”

“Now, now,” said the fairy, wiping away Chio’s tears. “Stay still. This won't hurt a bit.” She waved her star-tipped wand over Chio's head and gave an affirmed nod. “There you are.”

“Simple as that? I don't feel any different.”

“Try singing, dear.”

Chio took a deep breath and opened her lips, but no sound came. “What? Why?” She gasped, reaching for her throat.

“It seems your wish was not such a simple one to grant. The magic has begun to take its course, but I’m afraid the rest is up to you.”

“Up to me?”

“Mm-hm. You must first prove your loyalty. I can make you a famous singer, but you must do exactly as I say.”

Chio gave an unsure nod.

“Good. Now pack a bag. You'll need to take money, clothes, and food. You must leave tonight, and you mustn't wake your father.”

“But—”

“Not another word. And no dilly-dallying.”

I’d heard quite enough. “Now wait just a minute. Fairy or no, stealing things and running away from home is no way to bring joy to a father's heart.”

The fairy glared at me like I was a cockroach. “And who is your little friend?”

“Oh. That’s Sir Gregory. He watches over me.”

“Well, Gregory, if you recall, Chio wished to first become a famous singer; then bring her father happiness. One can hardly become a famous singer sitting in bed.”

“That may be so, but—”

“No, Gregory’s right,” said Chio. “I can’t betray my father. I won’t.”

“Don’t think of it as a betrayal,” said the fairy. “It’s more of a ... temporary setback. You’ll pay your father back many times over. Just think of how happy he’ll be when he hears you sing. All will be forgiven.”

Chio sat in silence. “I need time to think.”

“Of course. But I must warn you, if you don't leave this very night, the magic will wear off, and you may never see me again.” She tutted. “’Twould be a shame to let such a wonderful wish go to waste.”

The fairy vanished, and the strange star returned to its rightful place in the sky. The room went dim and quiet as if the whole ordeal had never happened. But Chio trembled with fear, and so did I.

“Sir Gregory?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“Was I dreaming just now?”

“I’m afraid that was real, little one.”

“Oh.” Her breath misted in the chill air creeping through the window. “What do you think?”

“I don’t trust that fairy one bit.”

“Me either. I hope she never returns.”

“Me too.”

“Did you believe her, about having known my mother?”

“I wouldn’t trust a single word she said.”

She nodded. “You were so brave, Sir Gregory.”

“Not half as brave as you. I’m mighty proud.”

Chio yawned and settled back into bed. “But Gregory, think of it. Fame and fortune. All I’d have to do is leave this house, and it would come true.”

“I know taking a shortcut is tempting, Chio, but we can do it without her. All of it.”

“Oh, Sir Gregory, stay close to me.”

“I promise.”

True to my word, I stood guard by her pillow, left wondering if we’d made the right decision. Chio calmed down and managed to get some rest. I, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep a wink. There was no telling when that fairy might come back, or what type of spell she’d cast. If Chio slipped away in the middle of the night, I’d have never forgiven myself.