Friends,
Yes, you read that right. I'm excited pumped honored thrilled ready to announce that I've completed the first draft of a new story called "Vincent Van Gogh: The Man from Nowhere."
No, not the one who painted The Starry Night—but a man perhaps just as brilliant, and just as tragic.
This is the fourth story in my new book, a collection where every piece is inspired by a song. The idea for this one was sparked by the haunting melancholy of Don McLean’s “Vincent” and Pony Bradshaw’s “Van Gogh.” I couldn't shake the image of a different Van Gogh: a genius theologian, the son of a legendary preacher, living in self-imposed exile in a time-forgotten East Texas town.
The story unfolds through a decades-old confession that details a mysterious death, a heartbreaking sacrifice, and a secret that has burdened a man his entire life.
As my most dedicated readers, I wanted you to be the first to hear the title and see a glimpse of the world. Here’s a passage that introduces the strange, haunted town that gave our Vincent his name:
Darling nods. “So, what I seen when I checked out the town the other day is that on the four corners of the intersection of Main and Broad, the streets you was referencing just now, is everything Ol’ Pappy Van Gogh established there. You got the courthouse on the northwest corner, which also houses the jailhouse, and the Van Gogh Sundries store on the northeast corner, which is a main attraction for nostalgic folks and antiquers. On the southeast corner is that church, still standing, the original building, though they added a fellowship hall behind it 50 years ago, which also serves as the town hall and the American Legion headquarters for the county.
On the southwest corner is the house Pappy Van Gogh built, an architectural, three-story wonder with a grand room that rivals any ballroom back east with its high ceiling, scrolled trim, big ol’ rock fireplace, and such. They say there are hidden rooms and the ghost of Pappy Van Gogh can be seen warming hisself by the fire or fixing his preaching cloak and top hat in the big mirror at the end of the main hallway on the second floor. Some say they heard him practicing his sermon using old English words like ‘thee’ and ‘thou.’.”
“Yeah,” answers Sheriff Akers. “The whole damn place is a state historical site. Also, these piney woods are full of the old pioneer’s descendants. Some of ‘em are religious zealots. All of ‘em are backward as Hell and a little strange. None of ‘em stranger than the one named Vincent, who made his home right there, I take it?”
He points to the tiny pinewood plank two-room relic of a house, made to look like a chapel, complete with a steeple that stretches 30 feet into the sky, crowned with a Cross. It is much too large for the structure. An arched front window, once made of stained glass with the Good Shepherd scene etched into it in brilliant colors, is now covered with rough-hewn, handmade wooden shutters.
“Yeah. He lived there for a quarter century with no running water or electricity. Built it hisself.”
“But they say the man was a genius, don’t they?”
“Certifiable,” answers Darling.
“He was certifiable, all right,” the sheriff grumbles.
Thank you for being part of the journey from the very beginning. This story feels special, and I can't wait to share more.
What does a title like "Vincent Van Gogh: The Man from Nowhere" evoke for you? I'd love to hear your first impressions in the comments!
PS: Paid subscribers will receive a code to download this story at no charge.
