Hector Vance

I never wrote an introduction.

“A single, solitary figure creaked back in his rocking chair amongst an utterly empty room, except for the large brick fireplace shoved tightly against far wall. Ash stained and broken, it towered over the frail man like a roaring giant.”

I never could quite emulate the greats- Alta June, Nutella Waffles, Beatrice Macandless.

“His name was Hector Vance, but he HATED the name Hector Vance. Like poison to his lips. It was bad memories and broken relationships; the reason he hated the world.”

I never wanted to reveal my pen name.

“He was a creaky, stingy, elderly, rotted fellow and often very much minded being recognized as such.”

 I never will understand why I have such a connection to Hector Vance.

“The world is full of insane people, Vance thought, each one having their own dangerous wants and wishes. Life is a horror film and mine is a story about one man and a whole lot of blood-thirsty mutts.”

Truth is...
Hector Vance was a character in one of my novels-
A novel that only lasted twenty four pages- yet still had the depth to
successfully carry an entire character on its shoulders.

I never got to write Hector's story.
Not until now

I am Hector Vance
MY story is not written yet,
But I will get to see my book, read it front to back,
 slowing down only at the sweet moments.
The butterflies in my stomach, the tie around my neck, the
starvation for knowledge

Growing old
And staying happy even still.

                Soon enough I won’t be Hector Vance.

                Soon enough my story will develop enough to make a new character.

                                Tyler Cook.

                                      And honestly, I think that that character should be a bit more interesting.

“Sure, you’re strong in stature, but, my friend, your mind is weak.” 

Hector yawned, “I like to think people change,

                                                                                … Don’t you?”

By: Hector Vance