The Finished Story
Write Now: From Spark to Story in 7 Weeks
Cutting for Dani
Ray Jay Edwards
The decaying, eyeless corpse lunged for the woman Lee Dallas loved, and he cheered as her quick double-barreled blast shredded its shoulders and skull.
Lee scrolled the clip back to watch it in slow motion.
The sound of the shotgun blast vibrated the framed TARDIS poster hanging next to the right speaker. Lee’s Northwest Austin apartment was solid enough that he knew he wouldn’t disturb his neighbors, but small enough that his editing setup’s sound ricocheted digital sonic effects off every surface like actual projectiles.
He did a quick save of the edit before moving on to the next sick killshot.
No one slayed digital zombies like DaniDeathstroke – known to her family and friends (and her editor) as Dani Childe – and there was no place on the internet like Dani’s ZombieProof YouTube channel. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, Dani livestreamed Resident Evil remakes or Left 4 Dead games. Most of her viewers (“the ZombieProof crew”) logged on to catch up with each other in the Chat while she played, but Lee suspected there were a fair few who, like himself, got lost gawking at the lethal cutie in the neon green headset as she thoroughly curb-stomped the undead’s asses!
But Friday nights?
Friday nights were Lee’s nights to shine!
On Friday, Dani dropped her “Survival Tips for Horror Games” episodes, hosted by Dani and edited by Lee.
They were prerecorded videos that Dani dropped onto her Google Drive on Tuesdays so that Lee could add gameplay footage and effects, and drop the finished episode onto his Google Drive for Thursday morning. Dani called him with notes just after lunch Thursday afternoon, which gave Lee time to make whatever tweaks or changes Dani wanted before she uploaded the episode to YouTube.
But Dani rarely had a lot of notes for Lee. She gushed over his work. She usually only had the nicest things to say about his edits.
At times, Lee felt like he was the hottie in their relationship.
Not that they had a relationship, Lee reminded himself.
Well, a business relationship was what it was. Strictly business.
For now, anyway…
Lee uploaded the final cut to his Google Drive, then emailed Dani the link.
His phone told him it was 9:57 p.m.. Time to hit P. Terry’s Burger Stand.
At the stroke of midnight, the insistent vibration of Lee’s phone startled him out of his reading.
He checked the time, which spooked him a little more.
It was a text from Dani:
“Notes??”
It was Monday – well, now, technically, it was Tuesday, but – they were ahead of their normal weekly schedule. Why did Dani want a Notes session at midnight?
Their schedule this week was a little off because DaniDeathstroke was a featured guest at Video South-by (or “VidSX”), a new extension of the local South by Southwest conference. Lee guessed the creators were cashing in on the rising popularity of California’s VidCon.
Dani was going to be prepping for the big weekend when she normally would be uploading her Friday videos, so she commissioned Lee to compile a “Best of” video for Friday.
But if it was Monday (or, Tuesday morning), she would have just wrapped up her post-game Chat with her online community, watched the video once or twice, then texted Lee immediately.
Did she love it that much?
Lee didn’t mind. Any chance to chat with Dani filled a hole in his life he preferred not to think about.
He started to put down the hardcover of J.E. Bellanger’s Phantoms of the Southern Trestles that had him so rapt when his phone startled him, realized he didn’t want to lose his place, grabbed a retro Tron figure, and jammed it between the pages as he set the book on the edge of his desk.
“Sorry,” he began, “your text shocked the shit out of me. I was reading about this 1903 train wreck known as the Wreck of Old 97.”
Dani blinked on his Zoom screen.
“97?”
Lee was silent for a second, not understanding her question. Then he figured it out.
“Yeah, ‘Old 97’ was the name of the train. It was a Fast Mail train, the ninety-seventh one, apparently. It derailed at the Stillhouse Trestle near Danville, Virginia, on September 27, 1903. Eleven people were killed because the train had gotten behind schedule and the replacement engineer was running it way too fast. There are said to be phantom lights still seen in the area, and claims of a train whistle when there are no trains around."
He noticed that Dani was watching him, wide-eyed.
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“What,” she asked, surprised. “No, you’re not rambling.”
Self-conscious now, Lee was eager to get the conversation back on track.
“The ‘Best of’ compilation? Does it work? I’m pretty sure I piled in all your most brutal takedowns,” Lee couldn’t help being a little proud.
He wanted to ask Dani out. This had been building for weeks now, and he sensed she might be interested in him, too. And he hesitated to admit it to himself, but he sort of thought this love letter to Dani’s masterful gaming skills might set the right mood for him to finally put it out there.
Lee wasn’t sure if Dani realized what a complete badass she was, and he sort of hoped that this video, showing her what an amazing human specimen she is…
He just wanted her to like it.
“Lee…” she said, and his heart sank. The tone in her voice was someone about to break bad news that she really, really didn’t want to be the bearer of.
“It sucked,” Lee realized, speaking his worst fear aloud.
“No, no, no, sir,” Dani declared in that exaggeratedly strict way she adopted when someone expressed an opinion she firmly disagreed with. “If that’s what you heard, that is not what I said, dude. You crushed it!”
But then her eyes scrunched up, and one of her eyebrows raised. She looked like a cartoon character waiting for a punch in the face.
“You just,” she said slowly, “didn’t crush it as much as you usually do.”
That stung.
Dani rushed to soothe the sting.
“Dude! It’s true! You found all my most triumphant takedowns! Kills I don’t even remember executing! I was loving it so hard at first. It was super flattering!”
She was flattered?
Lee lifted his face and looked directly at the screen.
“Yeah,” he asked tentatively.
“A hundred percent,” she enthused. Then she softened her tone again, “It’s just missing a little something.”
“Yeah?” Lee asked, not defeated anymore, but curious.
“Remember that time I forgot to silence my phone and Nemesis leaps out of that wall at me? I don’t know how many times I’ve trounced that level, but that time I–”
Lee laughed out loud, rocking backward.
“You missed him–”
“He ate my lunch,” she finished for him, laughing riotously herself. “That was the most ruthless cull I’ve experienced since I was a newbie! Right there on my own channel,” she finished, laughing harder.
“That was nightmarish,” Lee agreed. “I felt so humiliated for you.”
“That’s it,” she said, excited. “So did my crew! I mean I got mocked mercilessly in the Comments. But I also got a lot of love. Some of my most chilling ass-beats are some of my highest viewed TikTok clips.”
Lee started nodding. He was getting her point.
“Plus,” she continued, “they’re effing funny!”
“Okay,” Lee agreed. “I see what you mean. Plus, glam shot after glam shot gets to be boring after five minutes, right?”
“Exactly. The valleys make the peaks look higher.”
Lee smiled.
So this was not the time he was going to ask her out, but he felt reassured that there really did seem to be something between them.
A sudden shock of realization.
He didn’t even know what Dani enjoyed doing on dates.
Lee hadn’t really dated since he dropped out of college. What was cool now?
More than that, what did a world-famous YouTube influencer think was cool?
“What? Did I interrupt you? Were you doing something when I texted? I’m so sorry if–”
“No,” he said absently, “I was just reading.”
His expression must have gone all weird just now when his mind wandered.
“Is there anything I can do?” She sounded concerned.
“I just…” Lee groped for ideas, for anything to say. “I just…realized…that…it’s Monday night.” Then he corrected himself, “Well, Tuesday morning. We usually do our Notes sessions during the day. I was just wondering, what do you do for fun? In your You time, I mean. Or with someone else? What’s ‘a fun time’ for you?”
Dani laughed. She sounded relieved and completely taken off guard.
“Well…um…I don’t know. I guess I’m always working on my channel in one way or another. I don’t really go out, unless I need food or something. What do you do?”
Whoa! Lee didn’t expect her to turn the question back on him. He suddenly couldn’t remember doing anything.
Ever.
Then he remembered, “I read books.”
Her face lit up, “That’s right! About ghost trains,” she laughed.
Lee laughed self-consciously, “Which I use to bore women with.”
“You didn’t bore me! I was mesmerized, Lee. I couldn’t remember why I Zoomed for a second. You also watch documentaries,” she sounded suddenly excited, “about aliens! Like that one you keep telling me about.”
“The Tall Whites,” Lee asked, clarifying.
“Yeah! I bought that so I could finally watch it!”
“What did you think?”
“I haven’t watched it,” she laughed. “See, I don’t watch documentaries. That’s why I could listen to you all day long.”
Did she just say she could listen to me all day long?
“I would watch it with you, though,” she continued. The way she said it, it sounded like a dare.
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. You should come over, make me finally sit still for an hour and a half,” she laughed.
“You’ve got it,” Lee agreed, without thinking.
“Sweet,” she agreed. Dani sounded like she was totally serious. “I’ve got to start getting ready for Video South-by Thursday, but how long do you think this edit will take you?”
“I’ll have it by tomorrow night.”
“Really?” She seemed impressed.
“It won’t take too long,” Lee assured her. “Now that I get what you’re looking for, I’ve already sort of got it mapped out.”
“No way. Tell me!”
“I’ll surprise you with it. Tomorrow night. I’ll deliver it by hand, on a jump drive, m’lady.”
“Such a gentleman,” Dani cooed. “ I can’t wait!”
When Lee pulled up to Dani's house at 6:57 p.m., the sky above East Austin glowed a deep indigo. A few early stars winked above the bungalows, their light competing with the soft glow of porch lamps to the west of Dani's carport. Crickets chirped in the undeveloped lot east of Dani, a thick tangle of mesquite trees and sagebrush.
This was the first time Lee had ever been to Dani's house. They rarely met in person – mostly cell or Zoom calls – and Lee's emotional tangle of hope and nerves made the few steps to her front door feel like a slog.
Luckily, Lee didn't have to knock. Dani saw him pull up and opened the door as he neared the porch.
"Yo, fam, what's poppin'?" she greeted cheerily. "Very punctual."
Dani’s living room looked like a twenty-something Anime/Horror chick inherited her grandmother's house and went to town redecorating. It made Lee feel instantly welcome.
“The cut,” he said, offering her the jump drive.
“Yes,” she enthused. “Do you mind–” she asked, already heading toward her huge TV.
“Do it,” Lee said, eager to see what she thought.
If she liked it, Lee could relax and enjoy the evening. If not, he would be re-strategizing throughout the documentary.
The commission was a 10-15 minute compilation that Dani could voice-over herself (she had the equipment to take care of that). Lee’s original cut ran just over 18 minutes, but the new cut ran 22 minutes long.
It was the most blissful 22 minutes Lee could remember experiencing!
Dani gasped and cringed in all the right places, laughing harder than Lee expected in a few.
When it was over, Dani threw her arms in the air and yelled triumphantly, “Perfection!”
She swung around to Lee, who sat next to her on the couch, and hugged him tightly.
“I knew you’d knock me out,” she said, still clinging to him.
Lee’s heart raced. Surely she could feel it through his ribcage.
This was the moment, Lee thought.
As Dani slowly pulled out of the hug, while their faces were still close, Lee leaned in for the kiss.
“Whoa, there,” Dani said, gently but firmly creating space and scooting back to her side of the small couch.
Lee’s stomach bottomed out.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurted, horrified.
“No, it’s cool,” she replied quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“I guess I–”
“No, maybe it was me,” she interjected. “I probably gave off –”
“Dani, I’m so sorry,” Lee reflexively stood.
“No, wait,” Dani reached out for him, but Lee took a step further away.
“Lee, it’s not like you’re not awesome.”
“No,” Lee stammered, trying to let her off the hook easily.
“You’re the best, dude! And if I had time to date, it might be you. You’re super cute with skills on hyperdrive!”
Lee wanted to run. He was pretty sure Dani was just trying to let him down easy now.
“I adore you, Lee, and I love being your friend! But what I’d really love would be to subscribe to your channel! You're a brilliance bomb — folks would be stoked to soak up your wisdom!"
Now Lee just felt patronized.
Panic set in. Lee couldn’t be here right now.
He headed for the door.
“Lee, wait,” Dani got off the couch to follow him.
But Lee was faster to the door and didn’t stop until he was in his car, driving away.
After half an hour of pacing around his apartment, breathing heavily and replaying every stupid wrong move he had made tonight in horrific, exaggerated detail, Lee found himself at his laptop, exhausted and numb.
Crickets and not too distant traffic mixed with the hum of his air conditioner, Lee’s only soundtrack.
He felt vaguely hungry and nauseous simultaneously.
What if Dani couldn’t work with him after this?
He didn’t have to storm out, he realized. She didn’t seem angry with him.
But maybe storming off and ignoring her texts pissed her off, and now she was angry.
Lee couldn’t bring himself to check his phone. If she wasn’t mad, his worry might melt away.
But if she was…
Lee drove the speculations out of his mind. He was sure he couldn’t trust his logic right now, or his memories of the event. His objectivity had clearly evaporated. He’d have to wait until tomorrow, after they both had a chance to sleep on it, before he could assess how badly he had trashed his previously pretty comfy life.
But he needed to do something.
Right now.
He needed to occupy himself with something other than dwelling on his shattered heart or worrying about his immediate future.
He looked at his computer screen. The sleeping laptop didn’t offer any answers.
He looked at his window. The blinds were closed.
Lee's gaze fell to the edge of his desk.
A hardcover book sat, propped partially open with a retro Tron figure marking the last page Lee had read.
Phantoms of the Southern Trestles by J.E. Bellanger.
A curious series of partial notions suddenly jammed themselves into Lee’s mind. He couldn’t follow any of them to their conclusions because they formed a complex knot within his head.
He instinctively grabbed the book and removed the Tron figure to see what he had been reading.
His eyes fell upon a grainy black and white image of a wrecked train at the bottom of a very tall trestle, old-timey people gathered all around it.
Another idea popped into Lee’s mind, and another and another.
Lee barely knew, much less understood, what he was doing. He moved as though possessed by a Muse or some other spirit of inspiration, desperately waking up his laptop and clicking more by muscle memory than conscious intention.
Lee opened YouTube in his browser and navigated to a dormant profile he had created in case he ever decided he wanted to broadcast.
He thought for a moment, then changed the channel name:
DallasAfterDark.
He clicked on “Create”.
I took him a moment to come up with the title of his impromptu livestream.
“Midnight Ramble: The Wreck of Old 97’s Tragic Tale”
Oddly, it didn’t take as long to write the description.
“Yo, it’s DallasAfterDark, and I’m diving straight into the chaos of the Wreck of Old 97 — that infamous train crash that shook the South and inspired a legend. No script, no plan, just me riffing on the speed, the tragedy, and the haunting vibes of old-school disaster. Grab a drink, let’s unpack this wild story under the Texas stars. Drop your thoughts in the chat! #WreckOfOld97 #DallasAfterDark”
Then, after taking a quick, deep breath, Lee clicked “Go Live”.
“Heyya, I’m DallasAfterDark.” Lee could sense that his voice held none of the moxie or personality that any of his favorite influencers (don’t think about Dani, not now) flowed effortlessly from their effervescent pipes, but he didn’t care.
Being good wasn’t what this – whatever the hell this was – was about.
It was about doing it.
Lee held up the page with the black and white image to his webcam.
“This is the Old 97, a Fast Mail train that derailed in Danville, Virginia, on September 27, 1903. Eleven people were killed back then, and to this day, people claim to hear ghostly train whistles and see ghost lights in that area.”
The more he spoke, the less he cared what he sounded like, losing himself in the information that he found so fascinating.
As he flipped through the few pages of the book that covered the story, he held up the pictures for the webcam to view. The Editor portion of his brain wondered if he would be able to insert proper images over this footage for viewers of the recording.
Another portion of his mind ventured to check the Chat to see if anyone was even watching.
He had 3 viewers.
Then 7.
Then 16!
The Chat was actually active! He didn’t dare attempt to read what people were typing, but who cared?
People were in his Chat!
Yet another portion of Lee’s mind navigated information about modern-day paranormal claims versus compelling historical details of the Old 97, and the events leading up to its disastrous end. This, that portion of his mind realized, was his brand. This was Lee’s niche.
Lee paused for a moment, blinking into the camera, as he realized he had his own niche.
He had only worked for others, with others, helping them realize their creative voice.
In the heat of mad, desperate inspiration, Lee had created a means of expression for his own creative voice!
“Sorry,” Lee apologized to his now 32 viewers. “Mental flatus.”
Lee watched the chat erupt with a cascade of 'LOLs' and grinning emojis, punctuated by the occasional bewildered '??' or indignant 'WTF?'
He resumed his narrative, more relaxed, more confident, until a post appeared in the Chat that stopped him cold…
DaniDeathstroke: DallasAfterDark is my new fave! You’re killing it, Lee! <3
Lee couldn’t help but laugh out loud, surprise, relief, and exhilaration coursing through him!
An hour later, after he had finished his first-ever livestream and spent a few minutes chatting with his viewers, most of whom were creators he had edited for these past years, Lee checked his channel stats to confirm what he suspected…
DaniDeathstroke was his first subscriber.
Exactly one year and two days after the spasmic birthpangs of DallasAterDark, DaniDeathstroke did the honors of introducing Lee to the second annual VidSX.
Lee’s channel didn’t have nearly the viewership of ZombieProof, but the advice and influence of the established YouTube personalities ensured that Lee was making as much as a struggling influencer as he had editing for others.
Dani pulled some strings to make sure that Lee’s booth was next to hers in the conference hall.
Lee was shocked when the hall opened to the public. He had a decent-sized line of fans waiting to meet him in person!
He and Dani weren’t dating, but that year found them spending more time together at Dani’s house or Lee’s apartment.
And Lee was a hundred percent fine with that.
When he and Dani were alone together, they could even laugh at that ridiculous night.
Lee had come to believe in Dani’s philosophy:
The valleys make the peaks feel all the higher.
Reflections
Well, I blew past my short-story word count goal by 350%, landing at 3,475 words—oops! 😝🤣 Clearly, the short form and I are still getting acquainted.
I’d planned to share my own reflections on crafting this story using my WRITE a short story TODAY! framework, Abbie Emmon’s Internal Conflict tool, and my From Vague Idea to Solid Concept and The Wildest Ride! tools. But then I thought, why not bring in a pro who actually knows the short form inside out?
Meet AC Cooper
Anita, who runs the vibrant AC Cooper Writes Substack, shares practical tips and storytelling insights from her life as a full-time copywriter and part-time fiction writer, delivered with warmth and authenticity. Her newsletter is a goldmine for writers balancing creative passion with professional hustle. I asked Anita to share her take on my story’s structure and whether my plotting paid off, and her pantser perspective blew me away! Here’s what she had to say:
Ray Jay understands what makes an interesting tale...and because the story is told in a third-person limited view, I was able to quickly get into the head of the main character...something that is important when writing a short story. There's no fluff...all narrative and dialogue contribute to the story. The author is adept at handling the dialogue...it felt very natural, and contributed to both character development and story progression.
The conflict was clearly shown, and the resolution made perfect sense. Because Ray Jay tends towards the plotting side of things, it was very interesting for me, a pantser, to see how he works. I can confidently say that whatever process you tend towards, it's very possible to get something down on the page that works.
The ending of this short story is satisfying, and I did not see it coming, which is a win, because often, a "plotted" story will be predictable. That doesn't mean that a story that's been plotted is bad, not at all, because as this short illustrates, it is possible to surprise your reader even when you follow an outline.
Thanks for the read, Ray Jay! Good stuff here...excited to see more from you. 😉💙 I am humbled! 💙
And I'm quite sure I can't add anything to that!
I hope this series has sparked your own creative fire, whether you’re a plotter, pantser, or somewhere in between.
What did you think of the story, and how’s your short-form journey going?
Drop your thoughts below, share this with a fellow writer, or subscribe for more storytelling adventures!
May you have a truly beautiful week!!!