To Build a Liar

Authors pre-preface: I had very recently published the below republication of one of my first "serious" writing attempts from the 7th grade in Vocal's fiction community. When I saw the Writer's challenge to write about the first piece you had ever written I immediately thought to myself 'wait a minute I just did that.' So I am re-republishing it here for that challenge. The whole thing is very meta and confusing if you think about it too deeply so just don't. In the author's preface to that story (below) I talked a little bit about how the story developed and my critique of its quality. Generally speaking I still like the concept, it is kind of cute and humorous in a written by an awkward 7th grader trying way too hard sort of way. In case you were wondering in the intervening years my regard for Jack London's works has not changed much. I find them underwhelming and way too macho, like the guy is trying to prove exactly how much of a man he is, when really what is driving him are insecurities about his own manhood. I can say that I definitely had a shit ton of insecurities when I wrote the piece. I don't think there is a 7th grade boy alive who could not sympathize, it is a time when questions about becoming a man, being a man, and what that actually means are bubbling and bursting to the surface. Much like the pimples that were bubbling and bursting on the surface of my acne plagued face at the time. I will leave it with that enganging and distrubing visual. Enjoy. lol!

Author's preface: As I recently moved I have been rifling through a number of dusty old boxes over the past week or so. Within one of the boxes I found a folder which contained the tattered pages of several stories I had written a very long time ago. To give you a sense of just how long ago, they had been typed, neatly double spaced, using an old school electric typewriter. One of these was a story I had written in the 7th grade called To Build a Liar. It was a parody of the classic Jack London short story To Build a Fire. I can't recall many details of the origin of the story though I think it was a school homework assignement, and I do have a vague recollection of my impressions of Jack London's writings. Generally a fan, but the man struck me as a blowhard and a braggard, thus the parody which is an example of that tendency taken to its extreme. Below I reproduce the text exactly as I wrote it way back then. All the awkwad phrasing, redundancies, grmmatical misakes, spelling errors, etc. are left untouched. Enjoy.

Prologue

To Build a Fire by Jack London is perhaps one of the most widely read short stories around today. Almost all school children are required to read it in Junior High and almost everyone else has had at least some contact with the story. Jack London is considered by many to be perhaps the greatest naturalist of our time and To Build a Fire is probably one of his greatest works. Most of Jack London's story have the general theme of man vs. nature and to build a fire is no exception. In the story a wanderer and his dog attempt to cross the Yukon by themselves in order to reach a camp by nightfall where the man's friends are waiting. Unfortunately the man gets wet and he builds a fire underneath a tree and just when he gets it started it is smothered by snow from the branches of the tree.

To Build a Liar

The day broke cold. Very Cold. Very very cold. But the lone wanderer did not care how cold it was. He and his dog spike had been traveling the Yukon valley for years now. Fifty years to be exact. The actual number may have been slightly less then this but it seemed at least that long to him. The weather report told him it was fifty below, but it had to be colder than that. He guessed it to be somewhere around two hundred below. The wanderer cleared his throat to spit and so test his theory. At fifty below the spit would freeze before it hit the ground. He tried to spit, but could not the spit had frozen in his stomach before it even had a chance to reach his throat. It had to be at least two hundred below, maybe colder. His dog spike could feel the cold even through his six feet of fur. Spike had traveled with the wanderer since he was a pup, and had to be at least twenty now. The big dog's grey fur shone brightly in the everlasting darkness of the Yukon. He was more than big. In fact the wanderer guessed him to be the biggest dog in the Yukon. Spike weighed in at about three hundred pounds. The wanderer often liked to brag to his friends about his dog. Generally speaking though the wanderer was an honest and modest man. But now the dog began to growl slightly as they entered a large clearing about fifty miles in length and width. Perhaps the dog sensed that they should not be out in this cold, or maybe it was just gas, the wanderer did not know. Whatever the reason though the wanderer was not going to let anything stop him from reaching his goal. Besides, thought the wanderer, I always have the everlasting fire to keep me warm. If the dog knew anything at all it knew the warmth of fire. The wanderer and his dog had to cross a large valley of ice in order to reach there goal and immediately set forth. The wanderer was hungry and he wanted to reach his friends as soon as possible. They set off at a rapid pace. The dog began to pant as the man sped ahead. Suddenly the man's foot broke through the ice and he screamed in agony as the ice cold water seeped through his boots and onto his skin. A series of rude exclamations escaped the man as he ran about. The dog could not keep from smiling at the idiocy of the man. The wanderer knew the danger if he did not get that foot warm soon. He could very easily get frostbite or even worse lose his foot. He knew he had to start a fire soon or else he would surely perish. The man looked for an ideal place to start the fire and finally found it. It was a beautiful spot right underneath the snow covered branches of a great fir tree. "What a perfect spot", the man thought to himself, "I can build a fire and relax underneath a nice tree at the same time." The wanderer took off his gloves to fish in his pockets for his matches. "Oh no I knew I forgot something" he said to the dog as it looked on forlornly. "Just kidding, Here they are." The dog did not appear to be amused. The man was never seen nor heard from again. Some say his dog ate him. Others think the cold finally got into his brain and he went crazy. Others argue that he perished with he lit the fire and the great fir tree went up in flames consuming him and his dog. Whatever the story one can be sure it's just a story.