A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT
First, before the Big Announcement, our thanks go to Doug Hawley for taking the helm last week. We look forward to extending further invitations to do so to our frequent writers and site friends!
Next week will feature our annual anniversary post. This year is special because it marks ten years for Literally Stories. There will be the many special features we add to our anniversary wraps plus an abundance of new ones. We have been working on this since summer and we hope to see one and all next week. As always, bring the kids, show up drunk, clothing is optional.
On With My Usual Nonsense
“Surreal” is one of the current century’s most inaccurately and overworked adjectives, surpassed only by the idiotic use of “iconic” (which I’ve ridiculed previously and plenty). Mainly, we use surreal to cover the fact that we do not understand something when asked to give our opinion of it. Instead of fessing up to our ignorance, we say (all thoughtful-like), “Wow, how surreal.” I am guilty as hell on that charge and will try to do better than that in the future.
(Google’s definition for surreal is just plain dumb: says surreal is an adjective that combines surrealism and reality. Brilliant.)
And yet there remain strange situations in life that beg for the surreal label whether it is proper or not. For me, there are certain memories and trains of thought dwelling in my Idea Pantry that I must label surreal; these are unitaskers because they refuse to blend into larger pieces of writing–for example:
On my way to work a few years ago in downtown Seattle I passed an all male crew of macho-looking construction workers who were putting up a new building; a three storey affair with an open wall facing the street, like an Ant farm. A very common sight (hardly surreal) that I would not have remembered at all if a radio blaring somewhere in the building hadn’t been playing Girls Just Want to Have Fun. (I apologize for stereotyping the crew, but it was as though they were trying too hard to be manly men.)
I stopped and absorbed the majesty of the moment. There was a sour-faced guy in safety gear nearby, whom I figured was the foreman because he was the oldest and just standing there, coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Anyway, since he was within earshot, I just had to call out: “Are you girls having fun yet?” He looked at me nonplussed, but listened when I held a hand to my ear. He then learned shame; I watched those years of manliness slink off to die in a bog out in the Shit Moors. Nothing blushes harder than small children and middle-aged tough guys.
This is of those little events in life I Squirrel away for “later”–for use in a story. Alas, little acorns do not always sprout mighty oaks. My “Girls” vignette remains singular.
But that’s just how it goes in the Idea Pantry. Not all events are willing to adhere to other ideas. I suppose I could try to jam it into a fiction, but whenever I attempt that sort of thing, I can “see” the stitches and something inside knows it is wrong.
Regardless, it’s funny how the mind works, the (that word again) surreal connections. I believe that the oldest surreal resident in the Idea Pantry involves old time Professional Wrestling and the relationship it has for me with a humorous Nineteenth Century story written by George Horatio Derby called Tushmaker’s Tooth Puller (a favorite of Mark Twain’s).
I have not watched wrestling since they began calling it “sports entertainment.” I liked it when everyone involved (especially the fans) insisted it was real, and the “storylines “ were so simple that a coconut could follow them; back when the Good Guy was the one not carrying a Russian flag into the ring. It was where the refusal to give up belief in Santa thrived, which, for me, is definitely a surreal point of view.
I have no idea if they still do it, but I remember wrestlers stomping at the same time that they punched. It was as though their hands were connected to their feet. At eleven or so, I tried to convince my older brother that action was proof of wrestling’s phoneyness. “People don’t hit each other like that; they just do it to make noise.” He told me “Professionals know how to hit like that.”
Although it may be unkind, losing Santa and the Tooth Fairy was tough on Jack, so he had to have something to cling to, I suppose.
I encourage you to find Tushmaker’s Tooth Puller online if you haven’t read it. And although it is probably already too late, consider this sentence, soon to be a paragraph, fair warning because I am going to give away Derby’s story for those of you who don’t know it (I will not write “spoiler alert” in earnest because I’ve heard it about eighty times too many).
In Tooth Puller a patient has a root that runs from his tooth all the way down his leg and is attached to his foot. This is unknown to the inventor/dentist Tushmaker. This odd circumstance relieves the patient of his head when Tushmaker’s tooth pulling machine is applied (mind you this was a humour story; things were a bit tougher in the nineteenth century). I read that story a long time ago but it has stayed with me; and ever since any recollection of it cannot occur without remembering foot stomp wrestling punches. ‘Tis a long term pantry “idea” damned to die alone because it is, that word again, surreal.
(Another fist shaking note: hey millennials stop saying too surreal. Something is either surreal or it is not, damn it–it’s like saying someone is “too dead”).
Well, here we are, at the point of the wrap where I can stop pretending to know what I’m talking about and say, “Thanks guys, it’s been surreal” then move on toward more uplifting subjects–which never, for me, includes politics.
This week began with a Halloween rerun by Tom Sheehan, A Cryptic Night For Halloween and is bordered on the other end with a Veterans Day (or as it is known in other countries Remembrance Day) themed rerun also by Tom (a Korean War vet) tomorrow, A Boy Once Known. (Which I must wait to tag after it appears.)
The regular run of the week fittingly began with another soldier story on V Day itself with We Two Soldiers by Mark Schafron. Often real life stories can suffer from a lack of action, while the reverse problem is true in war stories. Mark located the right things to say the same way a prospector pans for gold. The result is tense and engrossing. And sadly, war remains the same with the only differences are there being more brave women serving in the trenches than ever before.
Tuesday saw the happy return of Michael Bloor with Late-Night Theological Breakthrough. Mick’s wit and free flowing prose draws both humour and relevant observations from his topics. There’s more than a taste of irony in Mick’s latest piece, which makes me wonder if agnostics might be open to “indulgences.” Stand a few IPA’s for a better rating will be my plan.
Why is Jake Always So Lucky? by Paul Crehan is one of those diabolically amusing items that you find yourself a bit guilty for drawing amusement from. It is also a story you cannot talk too much about without tipping it off. So I can’t say more than you will be happy to have read it.
The horror of war, minus military heroism, was brilliantly presented in Chalatenango, 1983 by J Paul Ross. One thing every culture has against it is a capacity to create evil. If there’s a higher power then the human race has much to explain. This historical document sheds light on shameful and grossly under reported actions that took place (much more than once) not that long ago. Civil wars tend to be the bloodiest; which is another truth that defies explanation. Whether it was due to incompetence or flat out stupidity, the US government had a bad hand in the horror show that was El Salvador.
Just yesterday Paul E. Goldberg (no shortage of Pauls as of late) closed the week with Rage. Once in a while a single human being will funnel all (in this case) her energy into a single point and become godlike, even holy. The rest of her is but a shell save for this great talent. Paul shows such a thing happening; positive energy rises to the top and a message gets across.
Congratulations to all our writers this week. They continue to be the reason why we keep going and going. Year eleven opens anon.
Once again, please don’t forget to return next Saturday!
Booting Up The Crystal Ball
Another surreal resident of my Idea Pantry involves a crystal ball connected to the various afterworlds people believe in. A coin operated crystal ball (the amount of the coin yet to be determined–maybe gold) that will allow you to ask one question of a dead person you never knew in life (I invented that rule to prevent maudlin nonsense). Preferably a famous person. You pay and say the name and ask your question all at once (second rule inserted to prevent useless chitchat). Anyway, I’ve been too lazy to work the idea up but here are some examples. First the recipient followed by the question. As always, audience participation is not only encouraged but desperately needed for this to work.
- William Shakespeare: “Where’s your diary?” (a long shot, that most people might consider dumb–but if it pays off imagine the possibilities).
- Henry VIII: “Are you now Mormon, considering all those wives waiting for you on the other side?” (Somehow I cannot feature Fat Hank winding up in the same after-world that contains Thomas More.)
- Elizabeth II: “Why do your spawn look as though drawn by Dr. Seuss?”
- Paul McCartney: “Do you know there’s been some guy pretending to be you since you blew your mind out in a car at age twenty-eight?” (I would ask this because twenty-eight was about the age that “Paul” began, for me, a decline in writing good songs)
- Judas Iscariot: “Did you invest the silver?”
- Marilyn Monroe: “Did Mrs. Kennedy ever invite you to the White House?”
- Cyrano: “Does the nose keep growing after death?” (although fictional, Cyrano is/was more real than most people, so he rates a question–which, of course opens a door)
- Mr. Spock: “Explain the logic behind the longer the Star Trek franchise goes, the further into the past it falls?”
- Anne Hathaway: “Do you know where Will kept his diary?”
- For you
Thursday was the eighth anniversary of Leonard Cohen’s passing, so he rates the clip.
Leila
literally stories 
Oops! meant to say that Mark’s ran one week before V Day itself. Blame it on drunk calendaring
Leila
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Excellent post as always Leila – thank you. I would love to have a root around in your ideas pantry! if that’s where some of your wonderful imagination is stored – Is it that slightly odd looking jar behind the Five Spice or the shiny glittery one on a shelf alone.
As for the question – pfft there are so many but I think I’d also like to speak to the Bard and ask him if he knows where his head’s at. It’s something that bothers me now and then. dd
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Hi Diane
Excellent question and somewhat eerie. I think I would ask his daughter about it. Anne might still be miffed about the second best bed crack to be helpful.
Thank you again!
Leila
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Wowee! Tenth year LS anniversary coming up – really, looking forward to it.
Meantime, if I offer a gold bar, rather than a gold coin can I suggest two questions?
To Percy Shelley: Did you see the weather report?
To Lenin: Did you give any thought to a successor?
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Thank you Mick
Excellent questions. I know what Stalin’s reply would be, same as Pol Pot’s. Poor Shelley. That’s one person who needs a weather app sent back in time.
Always a pleasure,
Leila
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Leila
You have a profound, gigantic imagination that’s consoling, challenging, and inspiring! Thank you, thank you!! Also, the phrase LOL can be typed many times while reading your writing. The humor and what’s behind it are magical, lovely, beautiful, gorgeous, and wonderful. The references to that story Mark Twain loved so much are amazing.
I would ask SHAKESPEARE what he really thought of Christopher Marlowe. And how many of his own lines were actually written, or at least inspired or suggested, by his actors, like Richard Burbage. (I just can’t get over the fact that a single person wrote all that. They called him “The Magpie,” after all.)
I would ask L. COHEN who he’s really talking to in “I’m Your Man,” and why does he keep looking up into the sky every time he says it?
I think I would probably ask PICASSO how it felt to face down the Nazis in Paris when they took over and he refused to leave, even though they thought he was Jewish, not to mention one of those pesky artists who doesn’t go along with the crowd. I’d probably like to ask a few Nazis why they let Picasso alone for the most part, as well, even though he was clearly not a fan.
I’d ask VAN GOGH if he lost his faith in art, just before loading the pistol and heading out to the fields one last time; or was it simple world-weariness and empty pockets, plus too much absinthe and a lack of sleep along with a nicotine-induced panic attack.
I’d ask HOWLIN’ WOLF what it was like to be a black man who was smarter than every white man he ever met.
I’d ask CERVANTES how it felt to be world famous in his late 50s and still just as poor as he’d ever been, if not more poor. (Also what was it like to be a slave, a prisoner, and a soldier with part of his hand blown off.)
I’d ask JOAN CRAWFORD where she is and when she’s coming back again.
And I would definitely ask MARILYN many things, not the least of which would be how she managed to seem so realistic in the first half of “The Misfits.” Also how it felt to be smarter than every man she ever met, so smart that no one knew she was at the time (kind of like Shakespeare), except probably Arthur Miller.
I’d also like to ask KAFKA a few things, like how creepy it was to write so much about a bug, and how it felt to understand the future better than he understood the present.
THANK YOU LEILA!!…
Dale
(Totally agree with you about the sorry state of Sir Paul’s songwriting after a certain point; almost as tragic a decline as none other than William Wordsworth himself.)…
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Hi Dale
You are a blessing to all, especially my ego!
I like your questions and I would like to know what Will thought about Marlow and Ben Jonson. Marilyn was no airhead for sure, but she perfected that act so well she was trapped.
Joan is the epitome of Movie Star, from Grand Hotel to Baby Jane.
Thank you!
Leila
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Leila
As Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald said of Joan C., “toying iced glasses with a remote, faintly bitter expression, dancing deliciously, laughing a great deal, with wide, hurt eyes…and a talent for living.” The only thing he left out was the endless cigarette! I saw an interview with her later in life where she still had a queenly presence, and called Clark Gable “the best.” She was still smoking and drinking, and looked as good as ever…and was willing to push the envelope in a 1970 movie like “Trog”…
Faye Dunaway gave a great performance in “Mommie Dearest,” even if it had its excesses, which didn’t detract from the greatness but were part of it! She never should have let the plethora of bad reviews get to her so much. Faye was also great in Bukowski’s BARFLY, in a completely different kind of role. Micky Rourke great as the Barfly, and The Wrestler, which has a GREAT, original Springsteen song in its soundtrack…
The question you asked Judas reminded me of something Harold Bloom said of William S., which was that sometimes his irony was so large it was too large to be seen (understood) by many…
Thanks, Leila!!…
Dale
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Thank you Dale
I know Bukowski said some critical things about Barfly, but like he always claimed “I’m the star of my stories, baby.”
Joan also married into Pepsi money. She came a long way from the chorus line
Thank you!
Leila
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Thanks for another entertaining Saturday morning read. I have to admit to finding Girls … Fun a catchy tune. It was featured in an old movie called Night of the Comet. I’d ask John Lennon if it’s true his last words were “Yes, I am”? Maybe I’d ask Franz Kafka if he ever felt as if bugs were crawling on him.
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Hi David
I read that a Doctor tried to get George Harrison to sign a guitar for him as George lay dying. I also heard about the guy asking Lennon who he was, like that’s appropriate conversation for a guy who had a gun emptied into him.
Yes Girls is a classic. I recall a movie she made with Goldblum and Peter Falk called Vibes.
Thank you again
Leila
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Words – “actually” maybe the most overused meaningless word as in “Do you actually like Coke”.
Horrible useage: “receipts” for “proof”, “optics” for appearance, “impact” for both affect and effect, “ask” for (noun) “request”, “issue” for “problem”, “mistake”, probably ten other things” (Hello Hugh). Probably ten other noun / verb things I hate.
On race – I know few black people in Lake Oswego where diversity is different colored Subarus. Billy works at a food pantry in the same building where I volunteer at Booktique in Purgatory (I get rid of books that have hung around too long). Editor correctly points out that I make too big a deal out of this, but after our election where a ^&&* got elected largely by white people, I wonder how he sees this paleface.
Probably would not get a coherent answer, but I’d ask Mickey Mantle, OJ Simpson, Bill Cosby, Elvis Presley how those very talented, beloved people could have been so stupid and thrown it all away.
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Thank you Doug
Gold and green usually out draw color in any showdown. Tis the shape of things.
I think I would ask Nicole Brown Simpson and Robert Blake’s wife a couple questions now that I think on it.
Both the Mick’s grandfather and father died of the same kind of cancer at 41, as did one of his sons. I can understand the both ends of the candle philosophy. But he shouldn’t have married.
Thank you!
Leila
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Leila – I got a different story about Mantle (read a biography of him a few years ago and I was at an age he was something of a hero in the 1950s). His relatives died from working in a toxic area in Oklahoma. I think Mickey drank himself to death. Either way, he had both problems of his own making, and long term problems with his legs. He was really fast, might have set base stealing records, but Stengel worried about his injury and diseased legs.
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Well, I see it this way Doug, maybe all that drinking made him a better hitter. It might have relaxed him. Could be he’d have hit .250 if he drank milk and spent the night studying scripture with someone like Anita Bryant (of the well earned pie in the face) and died of boredom at fifty.
Leila
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Hi Doug,
I have no issue, nay, problem, with you saying ‘Hello’ to me!!
So ‘Hello to you too Doug!!’
Keep being you my fine friend.
Hugh
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Thoroughly enjoyable. That gold-coin-operated crystal ball from the Pantry is an idea that begs to be booted-up, it’s a gem in itself – & worryingly stealable with it! The dead famous telling their side of it. Mr Van Gogh: What do you think of your posthumous career? Psst, Mozart: Salieri? Herr Nietzsche: your take on one Donald J. Trump. WS: Any advice?
To the list of worn-out expressions, i’d add the all-purpose use made of ‘journey’. Everyone’s on one it seems, no matter what they do or don’t do – in fact every separate endeavour has its own journey, & that makes for a lot of journeying. Treatment for toothache: you’ll soon be on your Dental Journey; lose your job, you’re on your Journey Back to Work; write & you’re on a Writing Journey. Little wonder so many people are knackered.
Among blessings to be counted aloud, I’d include the existence of sane spirits like Barbara Ehrenreich, Cynthia Ozick, Howard Jacobson, A.L. Kennedy, Ireneallison.
As timely poems go, L. Cohen’s 4-liner from 42 years ago seems apt. Called The Wrong Man, it reads: ‘They locked up a man/who wanted to rule the world/ The fools/ They locked up the wrong man.’
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Ha!
Yes “the journey” wore out its welcome eons ago! And I like the idea of getting the other side of the story. I am certain that his fame would shock Vincent, especially when you tell him how much his work is going for.
Thank you!
Leila
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Yes, rather too obvious the worn-to-a-rag Journey. Ditto the cheap allusions to Recently Elected Person(s). But what was not misjudged was my mentioning your work in the same breath as that of those other sane spirits . . . there are, after all, more than 140 examples in the LS archives alone.
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Yes, and thank you for that. I dunno if I rate the company, but it is a fine compliment, which I humbly, gratefully accept.
Leila
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Happy 10th anniversary Leila, Hugh, Diane and co.! What an achievement for a literary zine. I’m delighted I got to be a small part of your world. Cheers to many more years and many more stories.
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Thank you, Tatiana
We are happy that you are among the high quality writers on the site.
Thank you for dropping by!
Leila
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Hi Leila,
Excellent as always!!
I think the best definition I can think of for surreal, is the reality that an elderly person has when they are suffering from a urine infection! (Or me ten haufs in with three Tramadol chasers!)
…Was it ‘surreal’ that I used ‘surreal’ and ‘reality’ in the same sentence? Or was it oxymoronic?
…Or in my case, just plain moronic??
I must admit my idea larder is a bit sparse at the minute. I have a bitter Scottish serial killer story that won’t see the light of day due to one line. The problem is if I remove that one line then the premise doesn’t work! Oh and a tin of sardines which expired in 2006. As I say, it’s a bit sparse. I did have one other thing but like you say, they don’t always develop. But there is enough in it to use as a Saturday posting. In summary, I have nothing except a can of out of date fish!!!
The Crystal Ball idea is something that could really be developed, either into a novel or a short as in the description at the beginning with a whole host of one liners as the rest.
My two questions would be:
George Orwell – Did you mean to bore the arses off the English Class of 1983 from Mainholm Academy?
And:
Jimmy Saville – Is it hot where you are?
All the very best!!!
Hugh
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Thank you Hugh
Yes, there are plenty of asbestos suits worn in sections of the afterworld. I like afterworld even though it gets redlined every time. Once used a can of soup two years past its so-called pull date. It was just fine–even water has one of those dates. I wonder what expired water does to a person? Jekyll and Hyde juice. I’d ask Stevensen where he got Jekyll now that I think of it, never seen that surname anywhere. Hirler I understand, but not that one. Plenty of Hydes–that bad half!
Thanks again!
Leila
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Hi Leila,
I wonder if you have ever seen the madness that is ‘Bottom’?? It stared the late great Rick Mayall as Richard Rich and Ade Edmondson as Eddie Hitler.
When Eddie was ever asked by anyone, after hearing his name, ‘Are you related?’
He’d give them an emphatic ‘Yes!’
That line just goes to show that tone and timing of a comic can’t be replicated by the written word!!!
Hugh
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Hugh
I must check out anything with “Eddie Hitler” in it!
Leila
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Hi Leila,
It’s chaotic, childish, crude, violent and inane. All the characters are horrible but it’s must see TV when you are eight haufs in!!!
Hugh
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I would not have it any other way!
Leila
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A text note
Interestingly, “gold coin” is both an adjective coupling and a noun grouping. In the adjective sense, the US dollar coin is gold colored but has all the metallic value of an empty beer can. Real gold coins get you to the big hitters among the Dead, gold colored coins reach only people who were famous for about ten minutes.
Leila
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Leila!
I just got back from a writers conference and am disoriented, which is only natural. But I have two questions from the idea pantry.
St Joseph: “Hey Joe, what did you do with all the loot you guys got from The Magi?”
God Almighty: Dear God, do you remember who You were talking to when You said, “Let there be light.”? And why?
Gerry
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Hi Gerry
I hope you had a good time at the conference. Excellent questions, but old God is one of those fellas who answers questions with questions and is quick to pull the almighty card from the bottom of the deck.
Thank you!
Leila
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L
I know I was being superficial. Your question (and answer} deserve better. My idea Pantry needs scrutiny. Next time. I promise to do better.
Writers conferences so vex & tempt the soul. I’m being overdramatic, but not on purpose.
g
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Gerry
Your comments are always meaningful and are greatly appreciated.
I think I would ask God about his childhood and if there was a Mrs God. The Rat bastard can only damn a person once.
To quoth Eeyore
Thank you for noticing,
Leila
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Great post and great week. I absolutely love the term ‘Idea Pantry’ – I currently need one as I’m having a dry spell!
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Thank you Paul
Alas most things in the Idea Pantry are topical and have the shelf-life of a mulberry. Still, if you shine a light in the far corner something there might be ready.
Take care and good luck,
Leila
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