Adam Patrick
Bio
Born and raised in Southeastern Kentucky, I traveled the world in the Air Force until I retired. I now reside in Arkansas with my wife Lyndi, where I flail around on my keyboard and try to craft something interesting to read.
Stories (25/0)
Make His Roots Run Deep
May his mind no longer wander. May only kudzu creep. Put him in his rightful place, And make his roots run deep. It wasn't the twigs and acorn shells under Darla's bare feet that bothered her as she and her two sisters circled the oak tree--decades of exposure to the Appalachian wilderness had toughened her, inside and out. She'd never grown used to the cold, though, and it was the sting of icy dew drops against her skin that made her wince. But she pressed on in slow and measured steps, repeating the lines as she went. All three of them did. The full moon's light spread across the open field and draped their naked bodies like a blanket, but there was no warmth at this hour on the winter solstice.
By Adam Patrick6 months ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Next Great [American] Novel Challenge
The KindlingRunner-Up in Next Great [American] Novel Challenge
Jacob drew the blue bandana from his back pocket, wiped the sweat from his brow. The air was cool and crisp this late in Autumn, but busting firewood was hard work. He’d forgotten how hard, and he'd been at it for a while.
By Adam Patrick8 months ago in Chapters
On Writing
On Writing isn't a how-to; it's a story. A love story. A life story. Like everyone's life story, it's a genre-bending mix of horror, thriller, romance, comedy, and inspiration. We learn lessons as he did, not through checklists and exercises, but through reflection. Examination. Application.
By Adam Patrick8 months ago in Critique
- Top Story - August 2023
Please Tell Me WhyTop Story - August 2023
It's funny what you remember about things like your earliest pieces of writing. For instance, I know one of the earliest pieces I ever wrote was a poem. It may not have been my first, but it was one of the most impactful. But the impact didn't come from the writing or the content itself, but from the lessons I would learn from the reaction to it.
By Adam Patrick8 months ago in Writers
Port-faux-lium
I am a lifelong learner. I love education, communication, the exchange of ideas and opinions. Discourse. I particularly love online education. A lot of people discount it, and many students do phone it in; but it gives me a chance to digest people’s posts and responses, consider them, and craft an informed, well-formulated response.
By Adam Patrick2 years ago in Education
POP
Isabelle watched her fingers as she waved them through the dust molecules floating in the everlasting light of day. Each left broad waves in its wake as they cut through the sunlight. Coming together, separating. Four. Eight. Sixteen. So many fingers. She looked to her right to see who the additional unexpected fingers belonged to. Someone come to help, perhaps. But there was no one there.
By Adam Patrick2 years ago in Horror
I Didn't Ask To Be Here
“We didn’t ask for this room or this music. But because we are here, let us dance.” - Stephen King (11/22/63) Something isn’t right. It is something I know—I feel—before the words have a chance to take form in my conscious mind. The surface beneath me is hard; it jerks and rattles. I wince at the sound of metal twisting and grinding, threading its way into the folds of my brain. It is the sound of chaos. The sound I would imagine ripping the strings of the universe from the fabric of space and time would make. But there is a rhythm amid the discord. A steady clacking, chugging, churning coalesces, much like the thought that had emerged from the haze moments earlier.
By Adam Patrick2 years ago in Fiction
weMatch
The bell above the door rang, barely audible over the howling wind rushing in past Henry. Henry had the collar of his jacket pulled up high enough to graze his earlobes, only in part because of the cold. He breathed hot air into his hands and wrung them as his eyes searched the mostly empty pub. The bartender may have glanced his way when he came in, but other than that, no one paid him any mind.
By Adam Patrick2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - June 2022
The Shadow ManTop Story - June 2022
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The cabin was nestled in the pine trees far away from the trail I walked each day. I took it to my grandmother’s house on Sundays. I took it to the store when we were running low on milk and eggs. I took it to school where I learned about math and English and history. History was my favorite.
By Adam Patrick2 years ago in Fiction
