Pearls before Swine

I'm pleased to announce that my latest story, “Pearls before Swine,” has just appeared in Dali’s LoveChild. If you care to read it, the link is here.

This story concerns the metaphorical fate of a Bible believer. It takes place in a Bible store in the Arizona desert. I have to give my friend Steve credit for the main idea, although the setting was inspired by a trip I once made to Tempe.

Steve was raised in a very religious household. The Bible was a big deal to him growing up. In the bookstores in his hometown and at his college, accessories for Bibles were big business. The book itself was so sacred that you couldn’t put it on the floor or lay other books on top of it.

I wondered what it must’ve been like to have been raised in such an environment. Would you eventually reject what you’d been taught? Would you simply accept it all your life and push on with a meek living in an unsatisfying job?

The two brothers in this story have come to different conclusions on this question. Named after the first two Gospels, Matthew and Mark, the older brother acquiesces. They have a quiet, but mostly stable life. Mark, the younger brother, wants more out of life.

The antagonist, intentionally cliched, is a minister. He convinced the boys’ parents to give him control of their oil-rich property in the name of the church. The boys, in order to inherit, must keep the store open and active.

My friend Steve works in publishing. I didn’t realize until he told me that most leather Bibles are bound in pigskin because it is cheaper than bovine skin. This led to the twist in this story.

Told with a bit of humor, “Pearls before Swine” is a metaphor for learning the truth. Sometimes we think we already know what it all means, only to have an unexpected revelation. Take a look. Dali’s LoveChild is well worth a bit of your time.

Comments

Dusty

My, this thing is dusty. My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic. No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third. With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give. Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out. I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again. I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut? My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago. Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction. Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up. I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best. When you’ve been writing for half a century, you l

Neglectful Parents

If I was a parent I’d be accused of neglect. I have to say 2017 was the least published year of recent memory. Not that I’ve been neglecting my fiction, but I had a non-fiction book accepted and I work full-time and commute to that job—you get the picture. I’ve also had a personal epiphany. If you can write, you should get paid for it. I know a publicist (not my own; I don’t have one) and she says she won’t let her authors even write an op-ed if they don’t get paid. I guess I’d never get published then. My Medusa novel had a flicker of hope for a few moments. A publisher actually wrote back asking for the rest of the manuscript. That’s never happened before. Then the editor disappeared. Even called me by the wrong pseudonym. I’ve gotta wonder about that because the second half of the novel’s even better than the first. While looking for an agent for my non-fiction (couldn’t find one of those either) I came across several who said they liked quirky ficti

Too Much Writing?

Has this ever happened to you? Have you written a story that you’ve completely forgot? Not only completely forgotten, but made unfindable? I play games with my stories and sometimes the joke’s on me. Okay, I suffer from graphomania. I write constantly. I do try to keep organized—I use a spreadsheet that has all my submissions on it. It has rejection/acceptance dates (mostly rejection). Lots of information. I decided to list on it every story, whether finished or in process. There are far too many (mostly in process). When I finish a story I often submit it. If I get burned, I’m shy about resubmitting. I often rewrite at this stage. Then, when I feel brave enough, I try again. The spreadsheet is color-coded. There, in the color that indicates finished and ready to submit is a story cryptically titled “The Password.” I don’t remember this story. I can’t recall what it was about or why I thought it was ready to publish. Looking through my electronic files,

K. Marvin Bruce

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