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Literally Stories – Week 62 – A Plea

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Hello there, it is me again. Mr West is having computer problems. I sympathise, I really do as I always have computer problems. Adam’s is equipment breakdown whereas mine is mainly ability breakdown, although I do truly believe that they hate me. I take it all very personal and I wish I had a shotgun licence and the funds to be able to change my blown to pieces equipment any-time that it annoyed me. (Mr Presley and TVs comes to mind! As does a fried bacon, peanut butter and banana sandwich…And a few unmentionable situations that we shouldn’t dwell on. Maybe it is a good job Mr Presley didn’t have a computer for so many reasons!)

Anyway, I will continue. We have themed these posts in the past but this one will be a wee bit different. You may have noticed that both myself and Nik have been active with our stories. It has been an honour for both of us. But what we want to explain is that this is no incestuous, stories for the boys, type situation from our ivory towers. This has been out of necessity. We are struggling for submissions. The numbers over the past few weeks have been rather low. Both myself and Nik have had to go through the same selection process as everyone else and LUCKILY we have made the grade, if we hadn’t, well I think the tone of this article would be a little different. We need more stories. But, and this is a biggie, we still insist on the quality. If the quality isn’t there then we would rather close than accept anything that we think is below par.

So to an appeal. To all our writers, whether they be one story guys or multiple contributors, please look under your bed and finally tune those scribbles that we know that you have there. If you have any doubt with them, then put them back, they will hide the dust. But if you are happy, if when reading, you get that twitch in the pit of your stomach that says that you have something good, then please send them in. We cannot sustain the site without quality fiction. You have all shown us that you have exceptional work and we need to see more.

Are you ready for a tie-in!

That was an emotional plea and we could say that all our stories this week deal with emotions. (How was that for a rubbish link? I am good at rubbish links, just ask my fellow editors!)

I was up on Monday and wrote about very strong emotions that shouldn’t matter or even be there with my story Blood And Bigotry.

David Jordan touched on the much more recognisable love and humanity with Tuesdays heartfelt story The Other Woman.

Wednesday’s story was based on the true events of a horrific time in Welsh history with Nik’s beautifully structured and traumatic telling of The Generation We Lost.

My take on family secrets was up on Thursday with Passed On.

And to round off the week we had Nina Loard with more emotion as her characters came to terms with rekindled feelings in her story A History.

One tie-in done, one to go. I was going to look and see what I could find for the number 62 but decided against it. So to round off this post I will simply say, we have been here for 62 weeks and we want to be around for the next 62 weeks, so please have a look under those beds!!!!!

Hugh

All Stories, General Fiction, Romance

A History by Nina Loard

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“Good luck.” Peter kisses the top of my head and walks out the door, turning his key in the lock. I sip my coffee, curled up in the leather chair by the window. Finally, the house is quiet. If I prayed anymore, I would pray. The job would mean more stability. Peter hadn’t wanted me to work when we married, but we are past that as an option. As much as I want to be excited for a new start, doubt rolls in and blankets everything. I’m not qualified for the position. I have to go through the motions to show him I’m trying. I hate wasting time. I drain the cold remnants of my cup and allow for one slow, arching stretch.

Continue reading “A History by Nina Loard” →

All Stories, Historical

The Generation We Lost by Nik Eveleigh

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“All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
The Lord God…”

*

“I was told I should report here. What do you need me to do?”

“Shovels are over there, buckets are behind you. Dig or help carry it away.”

*

“Each little flower that opens
Each little bird that sings…”

*

“I’m sorry Mrs Jones but you’ll have to move back. They’re going as fast as they can.”

“I just need to know if Tommy is OK. He is OK isn’t he? He said he was feeling sick this morning but you know what they are like on last day of school…”

Continue reading “The Generation We Lost by Nik Eveleigh” →

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Literally Stories – Week 60 – Censorship

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I know that there will be tears all round as you begin to realise that Mr West is tied up and not able to do this week’s round-up. There will be even more tears when you read this and realise that it is me who is filling in! Adam is excellent at tying up the weeks and giving us some excellent meaningful meanderings relating to the said week so I thought I would do the same.

Continue reading “Literally Stories – Week 60 – Censorship” →

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Literally Stories – Week 59 – Somewhere Over the Rainbow

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According to Wikipedia no-one was born in the year 59. Two people died. They were Roman. Or possibly Greek. I have never heard of them or know anyone who has, therefore I must set aside any attempt to find some common ground, some tenuous link between the 59th week of publishing on Literally Stories and events1957 years ago.

Instead I will announce the forthcoming Author Galleries. They are happening soon. Coming forth. Pages and pages of head-shots of the writers who patronise LS.

If you have sent us a photo you will be there. Alongside another writer. Randomly situated amongst your fellow authors, each picture an alternative portal to the author’s published works on the site.

Opportune to ask anyone who has employed the services of a professional for the purpose of capturing their image, their author-ly avatar, to confirm whether that photograph is subject to copyright and if so to let us know if there is any attribution required to accompany it.

Copyright being what it is we don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

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Literally Stories – Week 55 – Allergens not in BOLD: strong language, dodgy humour.

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Hurrah!

Santa was back on form this year. He clearly read the message I left him, very carefully unlike last year when some incompetent stand-in or faux Mr. Claus totally f***** up.

Dear Santa I wrote — as you do — I would be most grateful if you could kindly arrange it that your elves assist you in the delivery of a number of…

Now conjure up a long list of ‘literary books’ by the likes of Orwell, Dostoevsky and other suitably heavyweight names including Albert Camus.

NB: To avoid severe embarrassment as once suffered by yours truly, please note that Mr. Camus was born in Algeria (then French Algeria) and his name is pronounced, not unsurprisingly for the French, Al-Bear Ca-Moo.

Not Al-But Ca-Mus.

Any road, as we say round these parts, you can imagine the puzzlement, nay sinking feeling that besieged me, when unwrapping many book-shaped packages I came across The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton and did not subsequently discover The Outsider by said Algerian.

YA fiction is not, as you would no doubt hazard a guess, top of my must-read genre list, but to be fair to S.E.Hinton I read The Outsiders (published 1967), which was written by her when she was still in junior high school, and it is indeed a fine book of its type.

Continue reading “Literally Stories – Week 55 – Allergens not in BOLD: strong language, dodgy humour.” →

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Literally Stories – Week 53 – ‘The Penultimate Week’

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The Penultimate Truth is a novel by one of my favourite authors, Philip Kindred Dick (b. 1928 — d.1982).

Pee-Kay-Dee — as fellow D***heads call him — story, is set in a Post WW111 earth ravaged by nuclear weapons and based upon one of his countless short stories, namely, The Defenders (1953).

The novel was published in 1964 in what many regard as Dick’s Golden Era, which included The Man in the High Castle (1962) that won the Hugo Award for best novel in 1963.

Whilst The Penultimate Truth won’t feature too highly in devotees top ten lists, as it lacks the many-layered aspects of his best work, it is still a good book.

The World Jones Made (1956), Time Out of Joint (1959), Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep and Ubik (both 1969), Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said (1974) and A Scanner Darkly (1977) illustrate that throughout his life PKD continued to grow as a writer of original, philosophical fiction, albeit his latter years being increasingly devoted to an exploration of theological matters — most famously with Valis (1981).

Week 54 will herald the last round-up of stories published on LS in 2015.

We return 4 January 2016.

In honour of Phil I have dubbed Week 53 ‘The Penultimate Week.’

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All Stories, Humour

A Lost Cause by Adam Kluger

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“Alfred,

Thanks for letting us see your work…
I’m afraid we are unable to offer you publication in Pushing Down the Daisies magazine.”

” Hi Rudolf…Thanks for the kind and quick reply. Submitting two pieces of fiction (The Pencil-Pusher & The Rain Washed His Underwear Clean) and some artwork that perhaps, might be a better fit for Pushing Down the Daisies. Best regards, Alfred…”

“…sorry we dont publish fiction at all…”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Evan Stalworth’s Wealth of Words by Tom Sheehan

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I’ll have to tell the story because I’m the one most at fault here. I should have known better, I’m the new generation type. Even on the way home from the cemetery, going back to the house with my mother, my two younger brothers and my sister, it was me who should have known better. Lots of things should have tipped me off; instead of being bigger, having more room with a body gone from it, the house appeared smaller, at least to me. It felt smaller, smelled smaller, corners were tighter, the air cooler. I swore, after spending my first twenty-two years in it, it didn’t have its hand out for me, “Not a touch in the tally,” as my father used to say about things found useless, unproductive, too much emptiness to expend much-courted energy on.

Continue reading “Evan Stalworth’s Wealth of Words by Tom Sheehan” →