Quite often a writer will streak across our virtual sky, a word comet, who graces our viewing for a while before moving in. From late 2016 into ’17, Nyx Bean gave us four memorable stories, and it is a shame that they should sit in the vault, alone, neglected.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns- Hi, I’m Stacy by Nyx-Bean”
And here we are at Week 338
First question for anyone who would like to answer – I was wondering, do any of you actually make time for writing either each day or even a few days of a week?
Continue reading “Week 338 – Time And Motion Has Never Been For Me, Loads Of Words And Huge Testicles.”
Word has it that the first billygit was the result of a passionate affair between a runaway Disney Princess and a Flying Monkey on leave from the Wizard of Oz. The Princess was tired of being a thirty-two-year old woman forced to play a “tween” and the Flying Monkey was bored due to the liquidation of his Witch. It was a “what happens in the Emerald City stays in the Emerald City” sort of fling. Or so I heard. I really can’t say much more due to copyright issues, but I won’t refute it, either. Whatever their origin, the now plentiful billygits (who did not stay in Oz, and insist on a lowercase b to start their name) are. Yet unlike most things that are, billygits multiply when some PDQ Pilsner is poured over their heads; this action instantly produces a twin billygit.
Continue reading “Meet the billygits by Leila Allison”
Word Puppet by Nik Eveleigh is something I can relate to. Writers create characters and then take the job of their God and that of whatever Universe the character inhabits. Even though we control the action, no one can be certain exactly what kind of God is in charge of her/his reality. Does your God care about you? Or are you stricken with a God who has a nifty twist in mind and you are nothing but a means of arriving at it?
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Word Puppet by Nik Eveleigh”
As I sit here at five o’clock on a June Wednesday morning, wakeful aphids zooming through my open window from the garden and gathering on my screen, and as I unsteadily wait for the coffee, nicotine and little pill I took to kick in, I reach into my mind and pull out the first thing I find: Let’s go with The Good Old Days–when all was great and there were fewer aphids.
Everyone needs Good Old Days to fondly recall and inflate with virtues not evident until a minimum of one generation has passed. The constantly under construction present and a future whose only certainty is our eventual permanent disappearance often conjure the Ghosts of the Good Old Days; those shades of What Never Really Was, whose remember when voices speak sweetly of yesterday.
Our increasingly labeling society tends to measure out The Good Old Days by the decade. All a time gone by needs to ascend to Good Oldayian status is a decade to call home. I believe that this is a 20th century thing–for I’ve never read olde literature in which someone in 1202 pines for the 1170’s. How else to explain the 1990’s ascension to old times not forgotten? (I’m certain there are many “elses”–but the desired effects of my addictions remain tardy.)
Continue reading “Week 382: Good Old Days on Viagra; Five Stories That Do Not Need Enhancement, and a Salute to 90’s Cinema”
MC “Laura” is nothing short of honest, which gives Hugh Cron’s Concealer an extra level of irony. At her interview for what we Americans call Unemployment Insurance, she divulges the reasons for her loss of a job–and how. Her delightfully profane observations and storytelling (only half-heartedly, so it seems, warned off by her interviewer) say much about the downside of the workplace and people in general.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Concealer by Hugh Cron”
Here we are at week 381.
Everyone thinks this was Barry…See title!
‘Booze was my first love.
And it will be my last.
Booze for the future.
And booze of the past.’
Depending on your outlook you may think that is a lot of pish.
It isn’t!
And yep, I bastardised the song…..So did Barry!
But what I would say is we all have ways of handling things and no matter what, no matter how fucking destructive, we handle things in the way that we do.
For me, booze and writing are what keep me sane but you need to realise what it does for you.
The mad thing is if you write whilst really being emotional there is a lot of raw creativity there.
Is that a good thing for you as is….Who knows???
I think trying to write emotion when not feeling or having felt it, is very difficult. A reader can spot lack of knowledge, experience or sincerity a mile away. That is why a lot of YA writing is only suited to that audience. They have a different outlook that isn’t always backed up with experience. There’s nothing wrong with that if that naivety is the focus. No writer can wing things that the reader has had more exposure to and expect it to be credible.
We also get a lot of writers who do try to write about addictions, prostitution and all those harrowing topics that should only be left to those who know or have been affected. (Or the writer has done a shit load of research with those who know or have been affected and they have LISTENED.)
Dave Henson states that he likes reading these posts as there are a few tips throughout on what we are looking for. So here’s another one for those who need it. (Not you Dave!!) If you take on these subjects, really pay attention to the dialogue that you use. Never anywhere in the world would you hear something like –
‘Gosh this heroin is good.’
I’m not saying that we have had that exact line but we’ve had a lot like it.
I reckon if I read the word ‘Gosh’ anywhere in a submission, it will be a straight red card from me!
I’d also like to address the ‘perturbed’, those are the folks that send us a passive aggressive email after we have sent them a refusal. (And they have also probably used the word ‘Gosh’ in their story) If this makes you feel better, you go for it, we really don’t mind and we do understand. But I reckon that you’d be better to take that passive aggressiveness, turn it into full blown anger, get drunk, swear the real swear words and try to write something else – It may surprise you how it turns out!!
Okay Doaky Mrs Coaky, I’ve a herring in my socks…Everyone should read Kettle and Christine’s ‘Beau Peep’, now onto this week’s stories.
We had four new writers and a man who has had more stories than four of most writers!
Not really sure if that makes sense but I know that you’ll know what I mean.
To our new folks, we welcome them, hope that they have fun on the site and most importantly, we want to see more of their work!
As always our initial comments follow.
Strangely enough, the start of the week was Monday (Unless you work for your local authorities and for whatever fucking twisted reason, they start on a Sunday – There must be a financial gain for them in some way!) and we had our first new writer, Anmitra Jagannathan with ‘Autumn Eyes Lost, Autumn Eyes Found.’
‘The MC has a fine quiet voice.’
‘The tone and emotion are very well done.’
‘There is a lovely quirkiness to some of the phrasing.’
Chitra Gopalakrishnan was our next débutante with ‘Bulls And Blood, Line And Lineage.’
‘This made me smile’.
‘A bit different.’
‘The delivery was perfect for the location and setting.’
There is no introduction needed for the gentleman who broke the back of the week. All I need to say is ‘Burial Of A Dark Charger’ by Tom Sheehan was next up.
‘The POV and setting were interesting.’
‘This was touching.’
‘Tom doing what Tom does.’
Thursday was after Wednesday, it normally is and we had David Patten with ‘Volunteer.’
‘This is very strong.’
‘Great flow all the way through.’
‘This says plenty without passing judgement.’
And we finished up on Friday with Fang-Liu House by Sonny Chen.
‘This was like one of those surreal dreams.’
‘Some good weirdness in this.’
‘Strange but there is nothing wrong with a bit of strange now and again.’
And now for the usual ending guys.
Really sorry but there are things that need to be re-iterated. If we keep chipping away by reminding, maybe one day it will stick.
Please comment. Not commenting makes the devil happy and jesus have diarrhoea. He’s had that much jollop, he is more medication than figment.
And cheers Dave (Three mentions in the one posting!!!) for sending in a Re-Run. Follow his example folks and send in a spiel for an older story that you’ve enjoyed. Throw in a few questions and we’ll publish what you send us word for word. (Try not to use ‘Gosh’ as I would be in a state of conflict!!)
Just to finish.
Many folks have been quoted as saying sport and politics should never mix.
That is a fair and noble idea.
But I do think that the LIV golfers will have caused this ideal to be thrown up in the air and I think this debate will grow more legs. (Maybe those legs will run away with a lot of sponsorship??)
I have my own thoughts but no matter what, I’d put them beside our royals, chancellor, cabinet to name but a few, in a list I like to call –
How much fucking money do you really need?!!!
…Not that anyone asked!!
The answer to The Cringe on my last Saturday Post:
He said – ‘Buff my low sole chair.’ (Buffalo Soldier)
Well Hugh – my guess wasn’t that far out at that 🙂 dd
Image: – Pixabay.com
Long time site friend David Henson has published everything from tragedy to jocularity with us. He excels at stretching reality until you believe that, why yes, I can see a future in which handling a black mamba for forty seconds without dying can improve one’s credit score.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Byrds Syndrome by David Henson”
It Hurts When I Do That…
Everyone has a touch of hypochondria in them. I have more than a fair share; for me the constant certainty that I am dying began in the third grade.
Our teacher, Mrs. West, assigned desks in alphabetical order. With an “A” surname not only did I usually set the bar for futility in P.E. (for I was and remain as athletic as a cactus), but when the subject was arranged-seating, I’d be in the first row, close to, if not in front. For five years (until her family relocated to California after the fifth grade) I could count on Veronica Allen to be seated in front of me. Ronnie and I were friends because I made her look like Wonder Woman when we had to fall in line for chin-ups in second grade (she sort of did one, then I began my athletic career as The Reliable Zero–I considered it my way of making the other kids feel better about themselves).
Continue reading “Week 380- Doctor, Doctor Please; The Week That Is and Hey Could You Play Another Someone Diseased Somebody Wrong Song?”
Whenever I read of domestic abuse I always think “If anyone did that to me, he’d be picking up teeth.” Fortunately, that has never been put to task in my world, but if so, would I react as I say? I really don’t know, I might go for an eye instead.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Bubbles by Diane M Dickson”
literally stories 