Search results for Derrick Lafayette

March 20, 2023

Derrick R. Lafayette’s “Kaleidoscope”

Today, March 21st, we celebrate the publication of Kaleidoscope, a short story collection by Fictional Cafe’s former Fiction Writer in Residence, and published by our own imprint! As the French author Marcel Proust once remarked, the mind evokes endlessly changing thought patterns, much like a kaleidoscope. And so reading Derrick R. Lafayette’s Kaleidoscope: Dark Tales, an extraordinary collection of five short stories and a novella, is like seeing the world anew through bits of colored glass. What if . . . In this weird Wild West story an old gunfighter, accompanied by a Billy-the-Kid wannabe, arrives in a town to claim a straightforward bounty. But due to mistaken identity, they run afoul of a supernatural occurrence. What if . . . A loner, held captive for months in a mud castle, escapes but feels certain…

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February 14, 2023

“Kaleidoscope: Dark Tales” by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Book Reviews, Writing

Just Published: A Provocative Short Story Collection by Our Own Writer-in-Residence It’s Valentine’s Day and Publication Day for Kaleidoscope: Dark Tales, Derrick R. Lafayette’s newest book. AND we’re excited to anounce Kaleidoscope as our first Fictional Café Press book of 2023. Derrick is a prolific writer who was our Fiction Writer-in-Residence for 2021-2022. He’s had several works published here at the Café, which you can read here. (Several are included in his collection but others are exclusive FC publications.) As the French author Marcel Proust once remarked, the mind evokes endlessly changing thought patterns, much like a kaleidoscope. And so reading Derrick R. Lafayette’s Kaleidoscope: Dark Tales, a genuinely extraordinary collection of five short stories and a novella, is like seeing the world anew through bits of colored glass. Here’s a preview. What if . ….

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June 18, 2022

“Juneteenth: Remember That Time” by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

I remember in mid-march 2015, Kendrick Lamar’s second album debuted. One of my closest friends, who is white, had played it for his wife, who is also white. Needless to say, the first thirty seconds is a sample from Boris Gardiner’s “Every ____ is a star.” She promptly told him to turn it off. She was uncomfortable, and I understand. The first fourteen years of my life were a heavy combination of daily reminders and academic study into the bloated, complicated, and emotionally traumatizing history of slavery. My elementary school had taught me “Lift Every Voice and Sing” when I was four years old. Some people don’t know that there’s a Black National Anthem. I’d seen Roots, The Color Purple, Shaka Zulu, Panther, Rosewood, and Malcolm X by the time I was in seventh grade….

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March 21, 2022

“Tobias and the Wildflower Utopia,” by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

“Can you help me?” “Are you positive of what you lost?” “Yes.” “You’ve lost your soul?” “Yes.” “Where?” “I’m not sure. I awoke one day hollow.” “Continue.” There was a pathway beyond the wildflower meadows. My brother told me the noises from there were the product of trickery. Auditory hallucinations sent from devils and pagan worshippers. On a night not entirely unforeseen, my mother took her final breath in bed. I held a dying candle at her side. The embers cast a dreadful shadow upon the wall as if her soul was a silhouette. Dysentery had robbed her of her humanity. The smell tormented the house for days after. I suppose that was her way of saying she wasn’t ready. It left a silence in my home, which was filled with the sound of my…

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November 15, 2021

“Heather, Ludwig and Nathaniel,” An Excerpt by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

LUDWIG I was surprised she’d read the first chapter. My tutor usually found small detours in any narrative I put forth. It reminded me of looking at a sheet through a magnifying glass, judging the components that hold it together. Inside my glasses were three strands of hair, dust, and a fingerprint, yet, I blinked away the annoyance and kept going. When I finally finished chapter two, I emailed my document to her. She unearthed a cellphone twice the size of her hand, stuck her face into the screen, and scrolled with her pinky. “Do you know what a journeyman is?” the tutor asked slyly, leaving a hum of arrogance in the question. “A nomad?” I responded, unsure. “Ah, but you do know what failure is?” “A worker or sports player who is reliable but…

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May 10, 2021

“Demon Road,” A Short Story by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

I lived in a castle made of mud. Solid enough to make you feel caged. Light barely escaped the brown warped walls. The house had so many ancestors pass away inside, that layers of its spirit fought each other seasonally. I was doomed. I believe it was late autumn when my stomach’s emptiness corresponded with my heart. After fifty-five days in solitude, the hunger monster devoured me. Food was to be acquired. There used to be another person to handle these things during the summer. However, the sunlight tempted her to search for buried treasure in the cityscape. She thought there were buildings, roads, and regular life beyond the mountains, past the desert plain. All things inside the dome. I located the area map before she did and destroyed it. I thought about her wandering hopelessly every night. Helped me sleep. The gun seemed to gain ten pounds since the last time I…

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January 6, 2021

“The Witness” A Short Story by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

I spent the entire day in bed staring at the white ceiling. If you stare at it long enough, it begins to sweat. Mother always said I was an “overthinker.” When she remembered me, before Alzheimer’s. Before the inevitable change where we all wither. I never believed it until now. I scrolled through my phone searching for the app that controls my life. Since my remote’s been lost in the abyss of my apartment, I needed it to tune in and tune out. It was an ungodly hour. I could tell from the pulsating tangerine glow of the streetlights on my white curtain blinds. During particular times in the night, they malfunctioned. I used to think microscopic cameras were inside snapping pictures of me. Aliens sending morse code. Or, that I was subconsciously controlling it with my mind, trying to send myself a message from within. A myriad of paranoid fantasies. I take pills now. I’m better now. I don’t think as much. …

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December 31, 2020

Derrick R. Lafayette Is Our First Writer-in-Residence

Posted by Mike Rochester in News

Announcing the newest position on The Fictional Café: the Writer-in-Residence. Our Editorial Team has awarded this role to longtime FC contributor Derrick R. Lafayette. Following a wonderful year of our first Poet-in-Residence, awarded to Mbizo Chirasha, we decided to expand upon this idea by adding a prose writer. Each Residency lasts two years. This staggering allows our members to greet a new face each year and allows us two full years of sharing each Resident’s work. As our Writer-in-Residence for 2021-2022, we will be publishing some of Derrick’s short stories, novel excerpts and perhaps some essays as well. He’s been featured on our site several times over the last three years. Each time, we’ve been impressed by his growth as well as his ability to create engrossing tales using both unique storylines and moments from…

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May 20, 2020

“Lester and the Mysteries of Wax and Wane,” by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

Lester, for all intents and purposes, was walking his dog down a familiar trail at 8:21 pm. The first block was uneventful. The dog peed where he’d always peed millions of times before. Shat where he’d always shat before. Lester readied his green, eco-friendly poop bag, bent down with ease, and collected his pet’s droppings. At 8:35pm, Lester and his dog about-faced and were heading home when a giant flash of light enveloped the sky. He saw nothing but white, and his dog was an inverted shadow, blurring in his vision. When Lester was able to see again, all of the familiar surroundings took an interesting turn. A man whose feet never touched the ground, shrouded in orange garb with mandala designs, appeared before him. The man stretched his arm, opened his hand, and inside…

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May 5, 2019

“The Lighthouse,” A Short Story by Derrick R. Lafayette

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Member Writing & Art, Writing

Featured Image Photo Credit: Wikipedia. West Quoddy Head, in Quoddy Head State Park, Lubec, Maine, is the easternmost point of the contiguous United States. A clump of snow slid from the plunging power lines and splattered atop the coffin. Utility poles leaned on both sides of the road. When Maverick looked up, the empty white sky was blocked by rubber cables. For miles ahead, the snow sparkled untouched. No tracks, nor footprints, completely uncharted. Behind Maverick and Goose were two sets of footprints and sled marks. Thick rope was cutting into their shoulders, dragging the wooden tomb. Its imprints creased the burly coats they’d been wearing for two months. Goose pulled down his wool scarf. The first exhale billowed into a cloud of frost. His nose was beet red, poking out from a black garden of unkempt facial hair,…

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