May 29


Let’s see…

    • Not sleeping
    • Thoughts racing
    • Smartass sense of humor in high gear

Yeah, I am definitely swinging into hypomanic territory. I hope this lasts as long as the depression usually does. I can get a lot done.

May 16

Still Alive. Possibly.

I just have not had anything to really talk about lately. Hence the hiatus.

I have been thinking, though. A lot. Thinking about writing, especially the submitting part. And I have come to some conclusions. Most of those will remain unspoken, at least for now.

One of the conclusions that I have come to is that many of my currently completed stories will never sell. For a variety of reasons. Oh well.

Therefore, I am going to use Noise in the Attic to transmit some of that noise to anyone who happens by the blog. Specifically, I am going to post some of the stories that have proven themselves unsellable here.

These are not the dregs. I am not just dumping damaged goods, here. These are stories that I think are of good quality, but that have been rejected consistently for whatever reason. The really bad ones will never see the light of day. They will just vanish into the abyss and never be seen.

I will start things off with a short one that just never struck an editor on a good day. I hope someone out there enjoys it.


The following story is copyrighted by Carter Nipper who owns all the rights. Do not duplicate this story in whole or in part without express written permission.


For Better Or For Worse
by Carter Nipper

“We should renew our vows.”

Oh, shit! Play for time. Gotta think.


That was brilliant, dumbass! Oughtta buy a few seconds, though.

“We should renew our vows. You know, the whole bit, church, preacher, flowers, invitations, get the whole wedding party back together, do another reception. The whole thing. It’ll be romantic.”

Shit! Not now! Christ!

“When do you plan on doing this?”

“For our twenty-fifth anniversary. It’s coming up, you know.”

“I know. I haven’t forgotten one yet.”

“Yeah, you’ve been real sweet, but I think we should do something special for the twenty-fifth.”

“Yeah, we should, but another wedding?”

Careful. Kid gloves.

“We have time. May’s still eight months away. And we can afford it.”

Not anymore, darling! Crap!

“Yeah, I know, but…”

Uh-oh. I’ve seen that look before! Thin ice. Think fast.

“You don’t want to.”

“Well, I do have a small problem…”

“A lot of people do it. It’s romantic. It’s special.”

Oh God, please, please get me out of this. Deep breath. Now or never. It’s a beautiful day to die.

“Look, it’s like this. When we got married, I made you a promise. I promised that I would love and cherish you in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, ‘til death do us part. I meant it when I said it, every word, and I stand by it today. It’s not that I don’t think it wouldn’t be a special time or anything, and, yes, it would be romantic. It’s just that I don’t feel like my vows need to be renewed. They’re not broken, or even cracked, you know? I just think it’d be hypocritical, that’s all. It’s like saying there’s some reason we need to reassure each other of our love. I don’t need that.”

Whew! That was a load. If she digs her way out from under that pile, I’m in real trouble.

“Oh, all right! I knew you’d come up with something. You never want to do anything romantic.”

Thank you, Jesus! I owe you a big one! God…eight months. She’s gonna put me through Hell. Hang on, just hang on. A couple of more months and it’ll be too late. Can’t afford to give in. Those tickets are non-refundable. God, I can’t wait. Blue water, warm breeze, hot sand, moonlight walks on deck. Thongs. Oh, yeah, thongs.

She’ll shit when I tell her how much it cost, but she always wanted to go on a cruise.

Eight more months. Just eight more months…