From The Old Floppies: Issue #16: "Schriver's Selves"

Back when I was in college, working on my bachelors degree, one thing I was hoping I could possibly do was get published in a science fiction magazine of some sort.  So, I wrote what I thought was a story that would  pass an editorial board and submitted it to a few places.  On the list were Asimov's Magazine, the Sci-Fi Channel's website/e-zine at the time, and a few others that I've since forgotten over the years.  When the first attempt, which you're about to see, failed, I wrote something I thought would be better and tried again.  That attempt didn't work out any better for me, but at least I can say I tried, if nothing else.  I really wish I'd held onto the rejection letters a bit longer, just as mementos, but such was not the case.  More on that, and the other story, as well, may be forthcoming.

For now, though, here's my first attempt at getting something published: the ultra-short story "Schriver's Selves".

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"I don't know why they're having me do this," thought Michael Schriver, as he 
walked through the empty halls of Lincoln Memorial High School. "It's always me 
they call out of class for this sort of stuff."
When he entered the school counselors' office, the counselor that he had been 
assigned to, a Mr. Kraig, was waiting for him.
"Do you know why you're here, Michael?" Kraig asked.
"Something about some guys wanting to talk to me?" Michael said.
"It's about your social life, Michael," Kraig told him. "Your parents and 
teachers have all been concerned about it lately. I think these men can help 
you."
"O.K.," Michael responded, half-heartedly.
"They're in my office. Right this way, please," Kraig told him. When Michael 
stepped into Kraig's office, he saw two men, one in his mid twenties and the 
other in his forties, both wearing beards. He noticed how they looked familiar, 
but couldn't quite place them.
"Gentlemen, this is Michael Schriver," Kraig said. "He's been cleared from class 
for the next hour. I hope you can help him."
"We'll do our best, Mr. Kraig," the older one said.
"Thank you," Kraig said, and then stepped out of the room.
"Now, Michael," the older one began, "we're here to tell you a little bit about 
your future."
"Yeah?" asked Michael. "Like what?"
"Mainly about Sylvia Hedges," the younger man said.
"What about her?" Michael asked.
"We think you should be dating her," the older one explained.
"In fact, I'm almost sure you'll regret it for a long time if you don't," the 
younger continued.
"Yeah right, like I've got a chance against half the football team," Michael 
responded.
"Actually, you do," the younger of the bearded men said. "In a few years, you'll 
be off to college, and you'll really prove yourself there."
"How so?" asked Michael.
"Well, you like to write, don't you?" asked the older man.
"Yeah," Michael told him. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"You'll really develop that talent in college," the younger man told him. "And 
that's just one of the many things Sylvia likes about you."
"Oh, yeah, right," Michael said sarcastically. "What could Sylvia Hedges 
possibly like about me?"
For the next forty-five minutes, the men told Michael about how Sylvia really 
liked the wit, perspective, and odd sense of humor that he always put into his 
writing. Michael argued that it was nothing really special, that anyone could do 
it, but still the strange visitors persisted until it was almost time for 
Michael to go back to his classes. Just as he was about to leave, the older man 
asked him one last question.
"One last thing, Michael," the old man asked. "Aren't you even the least bit 
curious as to how we know all these things about you?"
"Now that you mention it, sir, I am," Michael said. "How exactly is it that you 
know all these things about me? You both look familiar, but I can't quite place 
you."
"It's because we are you, Michael," the younger man said. "I'm the Michael 
Schriver that's been out of college for about three years. That will be about 
ten years from now."
"And I'm the Michael Schriver that's been working for twenty years," the older 
one said.
"Well, then, I guess I'll take your word about Sylvia," the high-school-aged 
Michael said. "I still can't believe she's really interested in me, though."
"Trust us, she is," the twentysomething Michael said. With that, his young 
counterpart left the room for his next class.
"What do you suppose will happen to us now?" the twentysomething Michael. asked 
of his older self.
"We'll probably just vanish or something," the older Michael said.
"Yeah. Looks like it's starting," the younger one said.
"I just hope this was all worth it," the 40-year-old Michael said before he 
faded out of existence.
"Me, too," the younger one replied as he, too faded out.
In time, the high school aged Michael Schriver found the courage to ask Sylvia 
Hedges to go out with him. Their relationship became strong and grew when they 
went off to the same college and graduated with degrees in the same field. The 
Schrivers won several awards for their work during their lives and raised two 
children. Michael finally realized what he had experienced in high school around 
his fiftieth birthday.
"I guess it really was worth it all, in the end," he thought. After all, it was 
after he had started going out with Sylvia that the pep rallies in high school 
had started to seem less silly. And it was, in fact, Sylvia that had convinced 
him to join the football team his senior year.
Michael also realized that he may not have gotten into journalism as a career 
without Sylvia's encouragement; nor would he have written his two novels or 
received his awards. The novels alone had won several, for such things as 
longest run on the New York Times Best Sellers List and Book of the Year in 
several cities and states.
And then there were his daughters. The youngest had just started college, having 
chosen political science as her field of study. The oldest had recently finished 
graduate school with a doctorate in veterinary science.
It was then that Michael began to wonder just where his life would have gone 
without that mysterious visit from the two men claming to be future versions of 
himself. He had worn his hair and a beard like the younger one did when he 
graduated from college; and now he even dressed and acted like the older one 
had. Life had indeed been good for Michael since he met Sylvia, but he couldn't 
help but wonder what would have happened had he not taken the advice of the men 
in his school counselor's office. Just then, Sylvia walked up behind him and put 
her arms around him.
"What's on your mind, honey?" she asked.
"Oh, not much," Michael answered. "Just thinking about some people I knew in 
high school."
The End.

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 In the end, this failed for three reasons, I think.  For one, it was, admittedly,

too short to meet standards.  Part of that has to do with the second reason: I 

could have done more with it than I did.  But that was part of being inexperienced,

as I was at the time I first wrote this.  I might have improved some had I continued

trying beyond the second attempt, which is one thing I regret not doing.

The third reason is that the formatting for this is bad, and may have been even

back when I wrote this in the late 1990s.  But I like to think I've learned a bit

about formatting, at least, since then.

At any rate, I hope this was an interesting read.  Thanks again for your time.

See you soon, folks!