This week’s Whatever is a fascinating work that was originally submitted as fiction (in truth Dale told us that it was a non-fiction piece that he had ‘tweaked’) but when we read it we knew immediately where it belonged. An enthralling story about abortive attempts at a pilgrimage. A super read. We give you:-
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – Visiting Bill Burroughs by Dale Williams Barrigar”
This Sunday we focus on a relatively new friend to the site, Paul Kimm, who first appeared in 2022 and has been making steady contributions since. Paul also takes time to make thoughtful and constructive comments on the stories written by others, which makes him an added blessing.
We now turn you over to Mr. Kimm
Continue reading “Sunday Whoever”
Anyone who has been around the site for any time at all will be more than aware of the genius that is Tom Sheehan. His work is always beautifully written and even when we have rejected stories it has mostly been because there is so much of his work and he could truly have a site dedicated to him alone. Sometimes a piece of his writing comes along and it is just so lovely to read that we need to share it. This is such a piece, we think.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – Movie on a Sunday Afternoon by Tom Sheehan”
Poetry is one of those things that seems to divide readers into quite different camps. I am a poet and a poetry lover but fully understand how other people just don’t ‘get it’. This piece, though it’s about a poet is not altogether about poetry. Mick Bloor shows yet again what a knowledgeable and well read writer he is. Excellent stuff.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever by Mick Bloor”
For this fine Sunday we present two little pieces written by our own Diane M. Dickson. One is an article the other is one of those odds and ends tales best suited for this feature in its own indefinable little way.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever: A Double Shot of Diane M. Dickson”
Today’s whatever is a beautiful piece of prose written by the legend that is Tom Sheehan. Anyone who is a regular reader will be aware of Tom’s enormous contribution to the site. Newcomers would be well advised to have a look at his back catalogue. All four pages of titles. Now, though we give you Winter Solstice 2016
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Continue reading “Sunday Whatever”
A Favourite Place: Innerpeffray, Scotland’s oldest free lending library, established 1680.
Article by Michael Bloor
I’ve always been nuts about libraries. I’m pretty fond of bookshops, but libraries were my first and truest love. First of all, the local Carnegie library, where I went as a little lad, accompanying my grandad when he went to change his Zane Grey cowboy thrillers. Then, the central library in town, with its reference section, and its newspaper/periodicals section, with old men dozing in the central heating. The university libraries and The National Library of Scotland, where all manner of rare and wonderful books can be summoned up from the stacks for your study, all absolutely…FREE!
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever”
This is another example of the sort of submission that we receive that don’t actually fit with the site but the writing is too special for us to reject it. This is a bite sized piece from a new writer and we were all enchanted by it.
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Mushroom Searching by Zary Fekete
These days there are many books, many pages, all promising, but the right way to begin is to ask grandmother. Which grandmother? Choose one. They are all correct and never lie. Nagyi or Nagyika or Mamikam. From Pest or Dunantul or the Alfold, they each have their secrets. They were all young once. Their routes led them from little country hamlets and acres of chipped Communist blocs, down through the decades, past wall after wall, papered with propaganda, each sign promising something just beyond reach, not quite true. But the mushroom recipe doesn’t lie. It just requires the right one.
Choose favorable weather. Just after a rain followed by a humid sun, hidden away in the shadows of the forest. Not a stir of breeze among the wet trunks. The only sound the drip drip of soaked leaves and the tiny scurrying of beetles and ants among the underbrush. Bring along a basket lined with embroidered cloth for collection and grandfather’s sharp knife for exploring beneath rotting logs, make sure you aren’t bitten by something waiting in the soaking darkness. Wear the right clothes. Tuck your tights into stockings and tie petticoats around knees, purposefully designating legs, so nothing can be caught in the grasping, greedy branches. Walk carefully. Hold hands. Pick a partner. Step where she stepped.
Watch the ground carefully. Remember the legend of the boy who wouldn’t share his bread while he walked with his friends through the woods. He had a full mouth every time they looked back at him, so he spit out each guilty mouthful. The bread-droppings left a trail. They transformed into mushrooms, and that’s why when you find one there are always more nearby.
Once your basket is full bring it to the village examiner. Some mushrooms are safe, but some carry poisonous secrets. Some promise succor but silently wound. Some sing sweet songs but echo with a hollow gong. All taste sweet and feathery on first bite, but some have dark pools in their past. Bring home the good ones, but throw the rest into the stream and watch them float away.
Finally, prepare your soup. Mix the mushrooms with the right broth. Thin-sliced for clear soup. Thick-chunked for heavy stew. The mushrooms will take on the flavor of their companions. In this way they make good neighbors. They don’t betray secrets. They keep what is given to them. They protect what is beneath them. The preserve the family lineage deep below the earth.
Derby in the English Midlands, where I was born and raised, is an industrial city, famous in the past for its locomotives, and in the present for Rolls Royce aero engines. In my lifetime, an awful lot of its old buildings have been knocked down, even the ancient church of St Alkmund’s, swept away with its graveyard to make room for the new inner ring road. But it still has a lot of old pubs: The Dolphin Inn, for example, dates back to 1580. So the fact that The Noah’s Ark pub is two hundred years old is hardly noteworthy. What is pretty interesting though, is how it got its title. It’s not named after ‘the illustrious first navigator,’ as one Victorian local historian phrased it. It’s named after a locally famous character called Noah Bullock who had a house on that site, back in the seventeenth century.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – What’s in a name by Michael Bloor”
Today is a real delight we have three wonderful pieces by the star who is Tom Sheehan. Anyone who has read much of Tom’s work will know how much his location near the Saugus River means to him and how it feeds his writing to take us all there with him. Tom’s time serving in Korea is another strong and most often stunning content in his huge cannon of work and Interception by a Muse includes both of these and though it may not be strictly fiction it’s a darned good read. And while you are still pondering the quality of wordsmanship read on and treat yourself to two more examples of fine writing. Upon My River, Upon My Soul and Words make up the rest of this Triple Treat.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – A Triple Treat of Tom’s”
literally stories 