This is the final blog in a deep-dive series on the stories in Rick’s newest book, Random Precision. The following blog includes spoilers.
 
A few months ago, I underwent surgery for a torn meniscus in my left knee. It was the second time that leg went under the knife; the first time was more than 16 years earlier in a much more extensive operation to rebuild the shattered limb described in “Three Miles.”
 
While this year’s procedure was far less involved, I experienced some of the same emotions described in this story.
 
“Three Miles” is a departure from the rest of Random Precision in that it’s a true-life tale, not fiction. I really experienced that awful accident. Even now, many years later, I relive those moments when I go for a run over that same spot. (To be accurate, as I write this blog I’m still rehabbing from arthroscopic partial meniscectomy, so not a lot of running happening right now.)
 
The themes in this story are many. Trusting in God to work out the bad things to become good things. Living in the moment. The risk of assuming the future will play out as you expect it to. Appreciation for the things you cherish, or should take time to cherish.
 
About a year after the accident, I was interviewed by a reporter at our local paper just before I took part in a community road race. Twelve years later, I hired her for a job with one of my clients. Best hire I ever made—and not just because she wrote about me!
 
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This wraps up the blog series covering Random Precision. But it’s not the last blog I’ll put together. In the weeks ahead, watch for blogs about my Star Trek experiences as well as a look at my first novel, Radiance. I hope you’ve enjoyed this study of Random Precision.

This is the 24th in a deep-dive series on the stories in Rick’s newest book, Random Precision. The following blog includes spoilers.
 
Every short story collection ought to have a Christmas tale, don’t you think? It’s like having a holiday episode of Doctor Who. It just seems right.
 
Thus we get “Sacrificium,” which my wife says is her favorite of all my stories. I also get an annual request for it when volunteer mentoring at a local middle school. And it won a Christmas story contest just a few years ago. Yeah, this one seems to hit the mark. (For the record, “Superhero” is a Christmas story, too, though less obviously so.)
 
When I read this one to middle schoolers, I delight in their reaction when they finally realize who—or rather what—Josh is. Typically they go back to try to find the many hints sprinkled throughout. No single hint gives it away, and even collectively the leap is a big one. But it’s a fun exercise.
 
“Sacrificium” has won a couple of contests over the years. The first time I entered, it didn’t even place. The second time it was the winner. I tweaked it a bit in the interim, tightening the prose, which probably helped.
 
It’s hard to write about this one without being too spoiler-y, so I’ll stop the expose’ there. But it’s worth noting that this one is a unique way to tell not just a Christmas story, but an Easter one, too.

This is the 23rd in a deep-dive series on the stories in Rick’s newest book, Random Precision. The following blog includes spoilers.
 
I’ll admit “Hearsay” isn’t one of my stronger stories. The basic idea is sound, but it suffers from being mercilessly slashed from its original length to fit the word count of a short story contest. Somewhere along the way I lost the longer version.
 
Still, it’s a theme we can relate to, especially those of us a bit longer in the tooth: How do we handle our own perceived obsolescence? Benny Warren is an old newspaper guy who can’t let go of his past life and believes he can’t reinvent himself. So desperate is he for the glories of the past that he makes a deal with the Devil. (Literally? You decide.)
 
I first drafted this shortly before Google Glass arrived (and quickly failed). I'd read an article about the idea of contact lenses connected to the internet that could offer up information to users instantaneously. I decided Benny needed a more permanent solution—hence the magical pill.
 
There’s a secondary theme here, too, about believing everything you read on the internet. There's a lot of that going on right now. Obviously Benny is fed a lie for a purpose, but who is to say the other revelations weren’t equally false? Not once does Benny turn a skeptical eye to what he’s reading. That alone speaks volumes to his state of mind--and therein lies a message for each of us.
 
As I said, not my strongest story. But one we can all learn something from.