My Journey to Writing and the Astronaut that Couldn’t Get off the Moon

Who the Hell is Ran Kime Again?

Ran Kime - Author - The astronaut that couldn't get off the moon

Hey now, I’m Randy Kime, born and raised in New Hampshire. I have forged an abstract and distinctive path as an author, poet, musician, & recluse.

I’ve been writing since I can remember. I always had a notepad on me to write my ideas that came to me in flashes and in the most unconventional settings. I once relied on notepads to capture my ideas and thoughts, but now I use phone apps, favoring talk-to-text or voice memos.

One day, a pivotal moment occurred during a visit with his mother. She slid a small book across the table. I looked at her strange and asked, “what’s this?”. She told me it was a book she found I wrote when I was in third grade.

It was a ratty old cardboard thing taped at the binding with green duct tape. The cover had a strange clothlike fabric with a house watercolor painting on it. The title read, “The Astronaut that couldn’t get of of the Moon”. I thumbed through its pages. Memories flooded back—the hallways, the smells, the friends, the crushes, the classroom desk setup, the cafeteria food, and the unforgettable imprint of Mrs. Duras, my third-grade teacher. I’m sure you have your third-grade slideshow somewhere in there was well.

the Astronaut that Couldn’t Get off the Moon

My book read like this: there was a broken satellite in space and NASA needed an astronaut to fix it. Who do you think they needed to call to ask for help to fix it? Yup, it was me. NASA told me the satellite is close to the moon, so they will send me in a shuttle to the moon.

I launched off… 3, 2, 1.

After landing on the moon, I went off to float in space to fix the satellite. I plugged, spliced and crossed red, green, and purple wires. I no sooner fixed the satellite when a curious alien lurked nearby, watching me work. He secretly jumped into my space shuttle and fooled around with the controls, pushing random buttons and the shuttle shot off into space, then looped around and crashed back into the moon, leaving the shuttle and the communication radio broken.

We became friends. The alien’s name was Omar. He helped me with the arm of the shuttle to get it to work and put me back to the satellite to send SOS morse code to base. The signal got through and my friend Aaron (my real next-door neighbor) was on the way in another shuttle to pick me up.

Omar and I played earth games while I waited. I showed him games I play on earth and he showed me games he plays on the moon.

Aaron arrived, I said goodbye to Omar, and we left for home, Earth. I told Aaron about Omar, the alien, and the crazy time I had. When we arrived home, they threw a surprise party for us.

My Journey to Writing - The astronaut that couldn't get off the moon

I suppose I could have simply shown you the book as opposed to describing it, seeing how it is only ten pages.

Anyhow, since third-grade, I had my creations hidden from the world. A trove of abstract stories, poems, passages, lyrics and random ideas written to myself for myself, knowing they would never see the light of day because of my unknown and undiagnosed condition later self-diagnosed as the impostor syndrome.

In junior. high, I found an outlet in music, playing bass in bands with friends. Our singer did all the lyric writing while I stood in the corner tinkering with bass lines, knowing I had my secret boxes full of notebooks, loose papers, napkins, cereal box cardboard writings that would work for the songs we were writing.

One day, the guitar player and good friend Terry and I walked to band practice for our bi-weekly allotted time. Our jam spot was in the lead guitar players’ parents’ basement.

Upon entering the basement, it was empty. They cleared out all the equipment, except for Terry’s and my rigs. We thought it was a fluke or miscommunication until we tracked down the guys to see where they moved the rehearsal spot to. It so happened that Terry and I were out of the band and they lacked the balls to inform us to our faces of our removal from the band.

Terry and I moped quietly back to my house. The rejection from the now former bandmates fueled the fuck out of me. I can’t speak for Terry, but I was livid. Nobody puts Baby in the corner. This ignited a newfound confidence to slide my box of writings out of the closet, blow the dust off, dig through it, and voilà.

Terry and I started a new song we called ‘Summertime‘. Encouraged by Terry and my brother Wes, I began integrating my writings into song lyrics, reclaiming my passion for writing. Looking back now, my writing confidence never changed. It was the fundamental aspect of showcasing it to the world.

This was the start of our new band we named ‘dirty lil’ trollops‘. I could dive a lot more into this time, but you can find detailed accounts and vivid tales in the book, Just Words: Vol:1 – The Lyrics & Shenanigans of the dirty lil’ trollops.

High school offered a pivotal moment when I enrolled in an introduction to poetry class. Writing under the pseudonym “Samhain,” the Celtic holiday and a punk band that started after the Misfits broke up.

My reading and writing drew inspiration from literary icons such as Charles Bukowski, Hunter S. Thompson, Carlos Castaneda, Jim Morrison, Jack Kerouac, Ernest Hemingway, John Fante, and James Thurber.

The poetry class allowed me to hone my writing chops and gain the confidence to transition to the role of a singer and lyricist. The poetry teacher read all assignments, allowing anonymity about identities in the class. I wrote a shit load in this class and still have many writings from it.

That writing box followed me through out the years, from my parents’ house to my many apartments and now sits at my house where I have lived for the last nineteen years and where I write this today.

A setback arose when a former girlfriend destroyed much of my written work from that box. Despite the loss, I saw it as an opportunity to forge ahead, focusing on the future rather than dwelling on the past.

Writing lyrics reignited my passion for storytelling, leading to the creation of two collections: Way Past Tipsy and Other Silent Cries for Help… and Spectre of the Brocken: Halo for the Observer. These books explore themes ranging from the human condition to psychological tension, introspection, vulnerability, and resilience. This style has allowed me to connect with like-minded individuals along the way.

I have created this site to showcase this work, as well as what I will create in a future literary form, whether good or bad, or somewhere in between.

I hope you enjoy what I have written here and continue to come back to see how it all develops and that some stories and poems resonate with you in ways that other authors’ writings have with me.

In my world, creativity knows no bounds and as I continue to grow as an artist, I hope that my stories and poems resonate with you, much like the works of my literary influences have with me. I ask you to give what I have a shot and if it isn’t for you, please pass it on to someone you know might enjoy it. So, dig in and let me know what ya think.

Be Well, Raise Hell!

Ran Kime

All Rans books are available at most major online bookstores and his music is online at dlt Productions LLC.

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Ran Kime Writer
Ran Kime, a writer, poet, musician and recluse from New Hampshire, crafts abstract stories, flash fiction & poetry that probe the psyche. His collections include “Spectre of the Brocken: Halo for the observer” and “Way Past Tipsy & Other Silent Cries for Help”.