Story Time – A.P. Miller

Story Time: a Prayer to the Gray Man

Posted on 9 Sep 202221 Aug 2022 by A.P. Miller in Blog, Story Time

September 2018 — Wilmington, North Carolina

In another life, I looked after houses for other people, and looked after the day-to-day minutiae of keeping the houses making money. That responsibility comes with a few burdens: when the home needed repair, I found the solutions for repair; when the homes were empty, I rallied the troops to make them appealing to rent; when disaster was impending, I did what I could to hedge the odds the bad moon rising would shine on someone else’s home.

When a hurricane is impending, you may be fortunate enough to have a week’s notice. The seven days between the storm brewing out in the office and stepping foot on the coast is spent chewing on nails while you wait to find out how bad the storm will be. The locals boast about the storms they’d endured, how they had no plans of leaving their homesteads, and would give the mercy of telling the transplants they had nothing to worry about. In the world of obtaining bids to replace roofs and knowing what mold smells like as soon as you walk in the door, there is no room for such mercy.

Continue reading →

Storytime: My First Dance With Danger

Posted on 8 Apr 20222 Apr 2022 by A.P. Miller in Blog, Story Time

Spring, 1988-1989

Over thirty years later and I can still remember that out-of-body experience. I can still see the fear in my eyes, my arms & legs pumping, and the set of headlights careening towards me.

I was four, maybe five, years of age. It was one of the rare times my father was off the road from his job as a long-haul driver enough to join the rest of his family for an extended family function. While I can’t remember what the exact moment of honor was, I remember being dressed in a button-down that matched my father’s, and I was proud to look like my elder namesake. Dad loaded all of us into the car and we were off to my great-grandmother’s.

Continue reading →

STORY TIME: A Hacked Radio Signal & Time Travelers!

Posted on 29 Jan 202122 Jan 2021 by A.P. Miller in Blog, Story Time

On February 23rd, 2021, my third novel, “A Law of Constants,” hits the shelves at Amazon.Com and I am SUPER EXCITED! This book is one of my most ambitious stories and I have poured a lot of time and brain power into the concept — I am very happy with the final product and I know that you are absolutely going to love it. Again, “A Law of Constants” will be available on February 23rd, EXCLUSIVELY through Amazon.Com.

If I can be brutally honest, I love telling people that I am a writer, and I have a book coming out. The first question, a vast majority of the time, is “what’s the book about?” That opens the floodgates for a torrent of geekery that most people don’t realize is possible. When researching the topics for “A Law of Constants,” I have been in rabbit holes of science and conspiracy theories — which should go hand in hand, if you think about it — and it is the treasure trove of topics that my eight year old self would have pissed himself to know existed.

Continue reading →

[STORY]: The Ballad of the Body

Posted on 6 Nov 202023 Nov 2020 by A.P. Miller in Story Time

This past year, I threw my hat in to compete in the New York City Midnight Madness Flash Fiction contest. Authors were asked to write a very short story (under 1,000 words), that contained certain criteria. For my first year competing, I did alright. Only the top five out of every group would proceed to round three — I was number six.

Since I’ve been eliminated, I am now free to share the work I contributed. This is the entry from the first round. The criteria my group was given was:

Continue reading →

STORY TIME: A Body’s Constellation [Halloween 2019]

Posted on 24 Oct 201924 Oct 2019 by A.P. Miller in Uncategorized

The waiting room was white; the walls, the furniture, the decoration, the floors. The entire room was so sterile and virgin that the only surface that seemed real and tangible was where the tears had fallen and not yet dried. The rest of the room was more like the pulsating shades of light than a hard surface where life could occur.

I sat in a chair that was neither uncomfortable or soothing. I had business to attend, unfortunately, it was the same business that the eyes that had spilled the evaporating tears had. I wished I was alone, perhaps I could have had a moment to prepare myself in the form of getting my emotions out. I imagine that I didn’t let myself break down for the same reason that the small family that sat in the room across from me did: my grief was none of their concern, nor was theirs any concern of mine. It’s a strange sensation, knowing that a near identical experience is happening across the room and being so enveloped in your own experience to not offer the same comfort that you craved. We’re a strange species, human beings.

“Mr. Miller?” my name was called by a disembodied voice; it was not abrasive nor soothing, the same level of tolerable that the furniture had been, “you will be seen now.”

Continue reading →