About Fredrock


Fred Rock is the alter-ego of Jim Schott, a mild-mannered and married father of two who lives in a small village in northwestern Wisconsin with his family as well as his dog Cletus and a cat who shan’t be named because he continually barfs all over the house.

To survive, Jim trudges about the countryside reading electric meters (yes, there are places where people still do that.) He also writes content for a web development company.

But by night, Fred Rock busts out rad-ass fictional short stories as well as occasional poems and meandering observations like a real rocking rocker who knows how to rock.

Fred Rock
Relationship Status:
The weeds, Wisconsin, United States
Local Time:
22 Jul 2017 08:50
Favorite Books:
Catcher in the Rye, Hotel New Hampshire, Blood Meridian, ASOIAF
Favorite Authors:
Salinger, Irving, McCormack, GRRM


Date Joined:
23 Aug 2016
Last Visit:
15 Jul 2017 (6 days ago)
Page Viewed:
518 times
Days in Chat:
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Topic: Who is your favourite author at the moment?
Posted: 10 Sep 2016 07:51

John Irving is probably my favorite all-time with Hotel New Hampshire being my favorite of his books.

Topic: submitting a story?
Posted: 30 Aug 2016 10:56

Can anyone tell me how long it usually takes to get a story approved? I submitted on on 8-27 and it's still in limbo. Sorry to sound impatient and no rush, just curious. Thanks.

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Stories Published By Fredrock All Stories »

Buried Treasure

He stood in a large hole, perhaps four feet deep and five or six in diameter. The digging was strenuous, the ground comprised of gravel and sand. With each thrust, the shovel stopped dead, sending a jolt through his arms, his shoulders, his back. Every few minutes, he dropped to his hands and knees to dig by hand. With his fingers, he unearthed heavy rocks, straining to wrestle them from the...

Added 20 Oct 2016 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 232 | 6 Comments

Rush the Stage

Rush the stage And fight your way Through tempest of the sea This ocean Raging, churning Oh, how it beckons thee! Rush the stage In foaming waves Look straight up to see Close enough to touch him You could almost wash his feet! And every night he battles And everyone he slays Establishing his kingdom All that he surveys Til fateful day When vice he takes Him it takes instead ...

Added 26 Sep 2016 | Category Poetry | Votes 7 | Avg Score 5 | Views 132 | 6 Comments

The Forest Fire - Short Short

He stared in disbelief as fire consumed the world. On every side it raged, roaring through century-old trees like a blowtorch through dry straw. He watched detached, as animals scampered to and fro in terror and he realized in an offhand way that he was completely surrounded now, the heat an impenetrable wall. Still he remained frozen, bearing witness to the horror as...

Added 19 Sep 2016 | Category Micro Fiction | Votes 9 | Avg Score 5 | Views 151 | 9 Comments

Grandma and Teddy

The stuffed bear was dearer to the boy than a pet, perhaps dearer than a cousin or sibling. Always, he brought it along to Grandma’s farm. When he snagged it on a barn nail, cotton stuffing erupted. He stared horrified then sprinted to the house, every second critical. “Earl is hurt!” he shrieked. “He’s dying!” Grandma appeared quickly. She pried the bear gently from his fist and carried it...

Added 11 Sep 2016 | Category Micro Fiction | Votes 9 | Avg Score 5 | Views 266 | 8 Comments

Breakfast Time - Short Short

“I’m going out to get food for the baby,” she said. “Do you want anything?” It was clear she wanted him to go and if he didn’t, her feathers would be ruffled. Too bad, it was her turn. “I’m good,” he said, whistling a little tune. She gave him a beady-eyed stare. “Don’t strain yourself.” Minutes later, she was back. “Nice to see you still perched here doing nothing.” “Back...

Added 10 Sep 2016 | Category Micro Fiction | Votes 10 | Avg Score 5 | Views 381 | 7 Comments

The Party's Over - Short Short

Ironically, the last time I saw Emma was our Independence Day party. She was missing when the fireworks started, and I found her upstairs, packing. “Whats up?” I asked. “I’m leaving until you figure yourself out,” she said. “You’re drunk all the time.” Rockets boomed and crackled outside, the sky shimmering bright through the blinds. “We’re missing the fireworks,” I said. She searched...

Added 07 Sep 2016 | Category Micro Fiction | Votes 9 | Avg Score 5 | Views 191 | 8 Comments

Of Blue Blood and Enchantment

Bradley Carlisle was a bully, but it wasn’t emotional or physical abuse that had made him this way. To the contrary, he’d been pampered and idolized all his life. After all, he was a  Carlisle . It was said that his ancestors were among the elites of the elite who sailed over on the Mayflower from the old country. Whether this was true, Bradley cared not one whit. He didn’t depend...

Added 02 Sep 2016 | Category Supernatural | Votes 3 | Avg Score 5 | Views 161 | 3 Comments

The Casket

The twisted adventures of one sick puppy.     The first time I went to Angela’s was four Saturdays ago. At work the day before, she had told Phil that she was going to stay home all weekend but she lied. She went out and got drunk. I waited outside her building smoking cigarettes in my truck and it wasn’t until 7:13 the next morning when she finally stumbled up the block with those two...

Added 30 Aug 2016 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 3 | Avg Score 5 | Views 168 | 5 Comments

The Hit

Vince clenched my shirt collar and pulled me close. “This is not complicated,” he said, slipping the vial into my shirt pocket and giving it a friendly pat. “You dump this in his drink then get the hell out of there.” His face was in mine but my heart was pumping hard and he sounded far away. “You  calmly  serve the drinks,” he growled low. “Tell them you’ll be back with their food,...

Added 25 Aug 2016 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 189 | 5 Comments

Agnes and the Dealer

There are moments in life that determine our fates. Call them crossroads or decisions, determinations or resolutions, the labels matter not. What matters is that a choice must be made, and the reverberations of that choice will be felt for the rest of our days. Agnes has arrived at such a place. She sits with two cards in her hand, a ten of spades and a six of diamonds, the blackjack...

Added 24 Aug 2016 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 139 | 4 Comments

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