Hotels have always fascinated me.
Growing up, they meant we were off on a vacation. Often, my parents would splurge for a night at the Holiday Inn Holidome, essentially a giant room with a pool in the middle, a cavernous space that allowed every sound from people coming and going to their rooms to echo throughout. Sometimes, we stayed in hotels that were a little creepier. Sometimes, they creaked at night.
When I grew older and stayed in hotels, now and then I’d hear fragmented conversations, or maybe let’s say other sounds, through the thin walls. I began to wonder about the stories of these fellow travelers. What events in their life had led them to this liminal space? Would whatever happens to them that night shape their future?
Did we all leave a little of themselves behind in these rooms? Did we ever leave more than just a little?

In 2011, I produced an anthology based on this murky concept. I gave contributors a room, told them to “have at it,” edited them a little, and published them as an Adobe Flash website over at ThePalmerHotel.com—it’s still around if you want to take a look.
What I liked most about it was working with friends, what I liked second most was how each reading experience was different. There was no real order. Click on a window, see what lurked behind, move onto another. Then the iPhone came out and de facto killed Flash. Thanks a lot, friggin’ Steve Jobs.
But while I loved the stories—mostly written by friends; I wrote two myself—because of the varied voices, it was a logistical mishmash that didn’t quite fit with the vision I had in mind. It always felt unfinished, like a first draft. There was something to this format, of self-contained stories that all take place within the same hotel, but it wasn’t cracked yet.
So, here’s another try.
Tales from the Palmer Hotel is a series involving 35 pieces of short fiction. They’ll be released once a day throughout the month of October, with a few before and after. (Here is a good place to urge you to sign up now by visiting rickpaulas.substack.com so that you don’t miss any.) If you don’t like newsletters, your best bet will be to set an alarm and visit this Medium “table of contents” every day.
The stories usually range 1500-2000 words, but some go longer. And they’re meant to stand on their own as the best short stories do, but to be honest, that’s not entirely correct either.
As these characters and stories flow through the same space, connections are inevitably made. Some tales brush against others, some merely echo or reflect, some lead directly into the next, some just whisper through the walls. There are narrative arcs and stand-alone “monsters of the week,” but it might not be clear which are which until this whole thing’s over. Sometimes they’re both. This is all by design.
Another thing that’s intentional is how this is being distributed. Since I’m publishing one story per day through October, I had to sit down and order them like someone would a TV series or a concept album. The reader who I’m programming for is someone who receives the story, and then reads it that day before the next one arrives. I know life creeps up on us all—especially in October of 2020, right before this dang election—but that’s just something to keep in mind.
Most excitedly, the series will come with original illustrations by the highly-talented artist Tiffany Silver Braun. Here’s one example:

Check out more of her work here. It really is a wonderful gift when you see how someone else visually nails the words that you’ve written.
One last thing: If you do end up enjoying this, please tell your friends! A post, a tweet, an email, a casual mention on a Zoom call, a postcard... whatever. The only way this gets around is by word-of-mouth, so I do truly appreciate that kind of thing.
And if you really enjoy this, while this entire series will remain entirely free throughout, I will be accepting donations.
Venmo: @Rick-Paulas
Paypal: rickpaulas@gmail.com
The suggested price for the entire series is a one-time payment of $6.66. But if you want to donate more, I won’t complain.
That’s all for now. Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for going along on this ride with me.