December 25, 2040
I don’t know why I’m writing this. There’s no point really and I don’t know where this is going. My therapist, though, thinks it will be good to get my “thoughts down on paper” or some bullshit. Sure, I get angry every once in a while. With my pathetic excuse for a life, who wouldn’t. But why is it that when I get angry, something’s wrong with ME??
“Who are you,” my therapist asks me. “What kind of man do you want to become?” I turned twenty-three this year and I am on trial for hacking into the Central Mainframe at the International Space Collective. Words like ‘treason’ and ‘death penalty’ were thrown around at my pre-trial hearing.
“What kind of man will I become?” I told her. “I don’t think I’ll be alive long enough to find out.”
December 28, 2040
My father called me today. He didn’t say much. There wasn’t anything to say that hadn’t already been said a thousand times before. He asked about my lawyer, the 3rd one in as many months and about preparations for the trial.
Seriously, who is he trying to fool? He doesn’t give a shit about me. He just wants to know how this will affect his reputation and his career. I am facing life in prison and maybe death and he asks me how my lawyer is holding up under the pressure? Are you fluxing kidding me? I hate you. I hope you read this.
January 6, 2041
Went swimming today to clear my head. The water felt good.
Some of my earliest memories are in the pool. I remember my mom. She would hold me above the water and spin me around. My feet skimmed the surface. I remember her impossibly long brown hair and her perpetual smile.
Those were the happiest days of my life.
Today would have been my mom’s 48th birthday. Maybe I’ll go to her grave later. Need to pick up some flowers first. Maybe from Samir on the corner. He understands.
January 9, 2041
Met with the ISC lawyers yesterday. They offered me a deal if I pleaded guilty. My options, fight it or spend 40 years in prison and rejoin the world as an old man. My father told me I should refuse their offer and fight it. I’ll either be innocent or dead. My father sees it as a win-win.
January 16, 2041
What the fuck is this crap. I was in the farmers market today buying some coffee and this dude hands me this package and splits. He disappeared before I could get a good look at him. Crazy right? But what he gave me is even stranger. Get this. It’s a training manual for the Tesla Prime Project and a ship schematic. You know, the $500 BILLION dollar piece of shit project that’s collecting dust on the launch pad? Yeah and there’s more. There’s also orientation vids to help the astronauts learn their way around the ship. And more information on the people that have been selected for the crew. Okay, seriously? What the hell is going on. This is some seriously top secret shit. Is someone trying to set me up? My trial starts in a few months. I’m helping my lawyers with the case but who am I kidding. We don’t stand a chance anyway.
February 24, 2041
Apparently, I pissed off the wrong people. They came just before dawn, blindfolded me, and now they’re taking me somewhere. Four men I think, maybe five. But with my trial next month, why the hell would someone kidnap me? Why not just kill me? Or just wait for the government to do that. My father would never pay a ransom anyway. But if these guys don’t know that, maybe they’re gonna to toss me in a ditch somewhere. Who knows.
So world, who ever is listening to this pathetic stream of consciousness, this might very well be my last journal entry. I’ll describe as much as I can. I’m in an SUV I think. Based on the sounds of the engine, and the feel of the seats, lift of the chassis when they threw me in here, guessing is a late model Honda Lotus, 2033? Maybe 2034.
They took my cellphone. Using my subdermal wrist AI to post this.
God. Okay, get a grip. We took two rights out of my garage, then about 14 miles based on the accelerations and the RPMs. Don’t know for sure. Maybe 15? Can’t see anything. Okay, we’re stopping. But where? Only vague images through this hood. Getting out now. Its quiet. Some people talking about the launch. They don’t mean Tesla Prime, do they?
That piece of shit mission. Nearly bankrupted the U.S.
Crap, they found it…
Tesla Prime and the Regulus Event 
I like the journal entries. Hooked me right away. Don’t know if I’d be any good at beta reading, so I think I will leave that to others.
Thanks Sherry! Anyone can be a beta reader. Perhaps next round?
Neat “hook” to draw readers into your story! However, check it for typos, e.g. 5th paragraph: “Who is trying to fool?”
Very interesting! Describing your character through his own blog entries. Creates a little back history from his POV. Will read more soon.
Thanks David. Appreciate the feedback.
The journal is RIGHT! Your voice here is strong and direct. I love your ideas so will venture some criticism that I hope will help. I think in Ch. 1 you are making the same mistake I make all too often. I’m working on it: I say too much. I think you’ve done that. Too much flowery language. Thomas Wolfe is my favorite author and he got away with that but most of us can’t. I’m working on bringing more of a Hemingway style to my writing–blunt and direct and you have that in your journal. I suspect it is more you than the other. Hope this helps. Try reading Ray Bradbury’s short story “The Veldt.”
Corinda, thanks for the feedback. Love Hemingway! In fact, I think you will find that the rest of the book is far more direct, clean, less flowery. The first chapter was deliberately in this tone to create more of a dreamlike environment of waking from cryosleep. In the real world, things are more terse and to the point. Take a look at chapters 2-10 and see if you agree. =)
I will certainly do that. I’ll try to give it a serious look tomorrow and let you know what I think. I don’t pretend to be the gold standard, but do have a bit of education behind me and it is much easier to see someone else’s problems than one’s own. The novel I just put out, “The Ghost of Blackwater Creek” is more the style I’m looking for but I’m only self published so that tells you I’m not the expert:) I sell about 100 copies a month, not exactly getting famous but enjoying the writing just the same. I’ll try to be as honest about what I see as I would want you to be about my writing. Only when we get honest feedback can we improve and every good writer wants to improve.
Nice, you’ve got me hooked.
Grabbed my attention.