Angelia Sparrow's Blog, page 43
April 24, 2011
Because it seemed appropriate
from Alive on the Inside
"Tonight, the eight o'clock Ten in One will be replaced by a live Passion Play. There will be no adult show. There will be another Passion Play tomorrow night and a special Sunrise Service on Easter."
Nick flinched at the notion. He knew there was a hymn-sing and revival service every Sunday morning, but he'd never worked up the nerve to go. He just knew Elijah would throw him out because of Jacob. He gave the idea of a Passion Play some thought. He wasn't sure how they could stage it, since they had very few normal looking people among the crew. The hideous thought occurred to him that it would be a real crucifixion and Jacob would be starring.
He dismissed this as blasphemous and started building the four o'clock tip.
Eight o'clock found him in his usual spot at the back of the Ten in One tent, a little nervous. Giant white scrims had been set up everywhere. The old familiar story began, half rear-projection, half live-action. Elijah addressed the council of the Pharisees as the high priest, the others all just motion picture, but his timing so impeccable, Nick could almost believe they were real. Jene, looking all male,led in the donkey colt to recorded cheers of a throng projected on the scrims at the front.
Nick winced. Jacob was indeed on the donkey. It was going to be a real beating and a real crucifixion and the crowd was going to ooh and ah over the realism and never know they'd actually seen true torture.
Marv was commanding as Pontius Pilate. Nick watched each blow of the whip lay Jacob's back open. The twins, as Mary and Martha, clung to MingXia, dressed in red as Mary Magdalene, and wept. The blood flowed until Nick was sure Jacob couldn't take any more. When Jacob winced at a blow, he
knew it was getting too much.
The tent went dark and Elijah's voice, deep as thunder, narrated the next events. Nick didn't recognize the Roman who was beating Jacob as he staggered under the weight of the huge wooden cross on his back. Then he realized it must be Wolfgang, without the fur. The Phantasmagoria had gone all out for this show.
One of the women in the audience sobbed when a splash of blood hit her face and she smelled the bitter iron of it instead of the sticky sweetness of corn syrup. "It's real," ran through the crowd at lightening speed.
Wolfgang and Jene, both in full armor, wrestled the cross to the ground and spread Jacob atop it. Nick couldn't watch and from the gasps in the crowd and a thud, he knew others found it just as hard.
The sound of the crudely forged iron nails breaking skin and tendon and small foot bones before thudding into wood sickened Nick. He fled backstage.
The crucifixion went on for an eternity. Jacob bled and writhed and cried out. Finally, he dropped limp, the crown of thorns spattering the front row with more blood. Jene and Wolfgang took him down, none too careful and handed his body to the twins and Mingxia who carried it to the part of the set designated as the tomb. They washed him and wrapped him in white cloth and with some help, got the rock in front of the entrance.
Nick came to the back of the tomb set and helped Jacob sit up, unwrapping his head in the process. He handed over a glass of water. Gently, he lifted the thorns off, puncturing one finger as he did.
"Jacob, are you going to be all right?" He poured another glass of water. After losing that much blood, blood which still seeped through the white cloth, Jacob would need a lot of fluids.
"I'm always fine." The cold suspicion in Jacob's eyes hurt, but Nick knew he deserved it.
He bent in and kissed one of the shallower cuts, the one at Jacob's temple. "There is no adult show tonight. Come on back to the car and let me take care of you." He offered a hand and picked up a heavy robe with the other. Jacob stood, exhaustion pouring off of him like the blood. Nick wrapped him in the robe and helped him back to the railcar.
Once inside, he sat Jacob on the sofa and poured more water, adding a shot of whiskey to this one. "Drink," he said. He ducked into the head and came back with the basin and cloth he'd used in
February.
The girls had washed him, but Jacob had bled again on the walk over. This worried Nick. By now, he should be scabbed over, if not healed entirely.
He washed extra carefully around Jacob's forehead and scalp where the cruel thorns had bitten deep under Jene's crueler pressing. He unwrapped the linen from Jacob's hands and cleaned them, the nailprints in the wrists giving him an odd, twisty sensation in his stomach.
It was how he used to feel as a kid, during the gorier parts of fairy tales or looking at the pictures in his mother's family Bible. Old, full color illustrations of the people dying in the Flood while the Ark sailed serenely on, of Salome presenting the head of John the Baptist to her mother and yes, of the Crucifixion. It was the same odd tingle he had always gotten saying the Apostle's Creed at the words "Crucified, dead and buried." He knew exactly what he wanted to do.
"Jacob...love. may I stay?"
The hope in his lover's eyes almost burned. "Please stay."
Nick turned Jacob's hands palm up, washed away the blood and kissed the center of each. Jacob stroked his face, running a light thumb along his cheekbone. Nick took a deep breath and tongued the nail-prints in Jacob's wrists. He looked up with a shudder, terrified he'd overstepped himself.
Jacob pulled him up for a kiss. Nick met him, the taste of blood in his mouth—holy blood, his mind whispered—his passions higher than they'd been for months. He finished stripping away the robe and cloth.
Carefully, Nick washed his lover's back. The whip welts had closed and no longer poured out Jacob's life. He washed the blood from Jacob's legs and feet, kissing those holes too.
Finally, he started cleaning the cut in Jacob's side. Unable to help himself, he slipped four fingers into it, flat, as he imagined Doubting Thomas doing on that long ago day in Jerusalem.
"What do you need, my love?" he whispered.
Jacob opened one eye as if the eyelid weighed as much as the whole world. The exhaustion had not passed, but seemed to grow deeper. Nick wondered if Jacob would survive the next night's show.
"Tonight, the eight o'clock Ten in One will be replaced by a live Passion Play. There will be no adult show. There will be another Passion Play tomorrow night and a special Sunrise Service on Easter."
Nick flinched at the notion. He knew there was a hymn-sing and revival service every Sunday morning, but he'd never worked up the nerve to go. He just knew Elijah would throw him out because of Jacob. He gave the idea of a Passion Play some thought. He wasn't sure how they could stage it, since they had very few normal looking people among the crew. The hideous thought occurred to him that it would be a real crucifixion and Jacob would be starring.
He dismissed this as blasphemous and started building the four o'clock tip.
Eight o'clock found him in his usual spot at the back of the Ten in One tent, a little nervous. Giant white scrims had been set up everywhere. The old familiar story began, half rear-projection, half live-action. Elijah addressed the council of the Pharisees as the high priest, the others all just motion picture, but his timing so impeccable, Nick could almost believe they were real. Jene, looking all male,led in the donkey colt to recorded cheers of a throng projected on the scrims at the front.
Nick winced. Jacob was indeed on the donkey. It was going to be a real beating and a real crucifixion and the crowd was going to ooh and ah over the realism and never know they'd actually seen true torture.
Marv was commanding as Pontius Pilate. Nick watched each blow of the whip lay Jacob's back open. The twins, as Mary and Martha, clung to MingXia, dressed in red as Mary Magdalene, and wept. The blood flowed until Nick was sure Jacob couldn't take any more. When Jacob winced at a blow, he
knew it was getting too much.
The tent went dark and Elijah's voice, deep as thunder, narrated the next events. Nick didn't recognize the Roman who was beating Jacob as he staggered under the weight of the huge wooden cross on his back. Then he realized it must be Wolfgang, without the fur. The Phantasmagoria had gone all out for this show.
One of the women in the audience sobbed when a splash of blood hit her face and she smelled the bitter iron of it instead of the sticky sweetness of corn syrup. "It's real," ran through the crowd at lightening speed.
Wolfgang and Jene, both in full armor, wrestled the cross to the ground and spread Jacob atop it. Nick couldn't watch and from the gasps in the crowd and a thud, he knew others found it just as hard.
The sound of the crudely forged iron nails breaking skin and tendon and small foot bones before thudding into wood sickened Nick. He fled backstage.
The crucifixion went on for an eternity. Jacob bled and writhed and cried out. Finally, he dropped limp, the crown of thorns spattering the front row with more blood. Jene and Wolfgang took him down, none too careful and handed his body to the twins and Mingxia who carried it to the part of the set designated as the tomb. They washed him and wrapped him in white cloth and with some help, got the rock in front of the entrance.
Nick came to the back of the tomb set and helped Jacob sit up, unwrapping his head in the process. He handed over a glass of water. Gently, he lifted the thorns off, puncturing one finger as he did.
"Jacob, are you going to be all right?" He poured another glass of water. After losing that much blood, blood which still seeped through the white cloth, Jacob would need a lot of fluids.
"I'm always fine." The cold suspicion in Jacob's eyes hurt, but Nick knew he deserved it.
He bent in and kissed one of the shallower cuts, the one at Jacob's temple. "There is no adult show tonight. Come on back to the car and let me take care of you." He offered a hand and picked up a heavy robe with the other. Jacob stood, exhaustion pouring off of him like the blood. Nick wrapped him in the robe and helped him back to the railcar.
Once inside, he sat Jacob on the sofa and poured more water, adding a shot of whiskey to this one. "Drink," he said. He ducked into the head and came back with the basin and cloth he'd used in
February.
The girls had washed him, but Jacob had bled again on the walk over. This worried Nick. By now, he should be scabbed over, if not healed entirely.
He washed extra carefully around Jacob's forehead and scalp where the cruel thorns had bitten deep under Jene's crueler pressing. He unwrapped the linen from Jacob's hands and cleaned them, the nailprints in the wrists giving him an odd, twisty sensation in his stomach.
It was how he used to feel as a kid, during the gorier parts of fairy tales or looking at the pictures in his mother's family Bible. Old, full color illustrations of the people dying in the Flood while the Ark sailed serenely on, of Salome presenting the head of John the Baptist to her mother and yes, of the Crucifixion. It was the same odd tingle he had always gotten saying the Apostle's Creed at the words "Crucified, dead and buried." He knew exactly what he wanted to do.
"Jacob...love. may I stay?"
The hope in his lover's eyes almost burned. "Please stay."
Nick turned Jacob's hands palm up, washed away the blood and kissed the center of each. Jacob stroked his face, running a light thumb along his cheekbone. Nick took a deep breath and tongued the nail-prints in Jacob's wrists. He looked up with a shudder, terrified he'd overstepped himself.
Jacob pulled him up for a kiss. Nick met him, the taste of blood in his mouth—holy blood, his mind whispered—his passions higher than they'd been for months. He finished stripping away the robe and cloth.
Carefully, Nick washed his lover's back. The whip welts had closed and no longer poured out Jacob's life. He washed the blood from Jacob's legs and feet, kissing those holes too.
Finally, he started cleaning the cut in Jacob's side. Unable to help himself, he slipped four fingers into it, flat, as he imagined Doubting Thomas doing on that long ago day in Jerusalem.
"What do you need, my love?" he whispered.
Jacob opened one eye as if the eyelid weighed as much as the whole world. The exhaustion had not passed, but seemed to grow deeper. Nick wondered if Jacob would survive the next night's show.
April 21, 2011
Stuff
Oh look, I have a Blogger account.
Oh look. i remembered how to access it.
It's been a busy spring. 4 releases in 4 months. And working on more.
But all in all, it's going well enough.
I have no thoughts on this Maunday Thursday. Work eats me alive
Oh look. i remembered how to access it.
It's been a busy spring. 4 releases in 4 months. And working on more.
But all in all, it's going well enough.
I have no thoughts on this Maunday Thursday. Work eats me alive
November 4, 2010
Bane Of Humanity
When I hear John Boehner's name pronounced, this is the scene I see in my mind.
October 6, 2010
Stuff in progress
Done and Subbed:
Worth the Woe--Ravenous Romance's Rumpled Silk Sheets
Experiments--Cleis CARNAL MACHINES
Thigh to Thigh--Ace's Pain/Pleasure anth
Playing With Fire--Renaissance, Undead erotica
Between Despair and Ecstasy--Renaissance, Undead Erotica
Done
Looking Down the Road
Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net
In progress
untitled for Circlet's Like an Iron fist
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Nick & Corban
Worth the Woe--Ravenous Romance's Rumpled Silk Sheets
Experiments--Cleis CARNAL MACHINES
Thigh to Thigh--Ace's Pain/Pleasure anth
Playing With Fire--Renaissance, Undead erotica
Between Despair and Ecstasy--Renaissance, Undead Erotica
Done
Looking Down the Road
Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net
In progress
untitled for Circlet's Like an Iron fist
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Nick & Corban
September 11, 2010
A list of works in various stages of progress.
Stories.
Done and SubbedWorth the Woe
Experiments
Done
Profiteering
Looking Down the Road
Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
Between Despair and Ecstasy/vampire apocalypse
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net
In progress
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Manhunt
The Algol 3 Disaster
untitled Flower Fairies
Fruits of Thine
Nick & Corban
On hiatus
Hot Delta nights
Dead Man's Wind
the time travel piece with Hermes
Uncanny Valley
Vampire apocal...
Done and SubbedWorth the Woe
Experiments
Done
Profiteering
Looking Down the Road
Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
Between Despair and Ecstasy/vampire apocalypse
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net
In progress
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Manhunt
The Algol 3 Disaster
untitled Flower Fairies
Fruits of Thine
Nick & Corban
On hiatus
Hot Delta nights
Dead Man's Wind
the time travel piece with Hermes
Uncanny Valley
Vampire apocal...
August 29, 2010
Five Influences: Chain Male
I've seen this around and it looked like fun.
Chain-Male is my most recent release, from Amber Allure.
Five Influences:
1) Christian Brothers University
I worked for Christian Brothers for five years. Hence the choice of Interlibrary Loan Librarian for Chad. I actually did have to send a book to Truth or Consequences New Mexico, work late nights in the library, monitor computer use and work-study students. In my head, Chad works at CBU.
2) Lilies War
War of the Lilies is an annual event held ...
Chain-Male is my most recent release, from Amber Allure.
Five Influences:
1) Christian Brothers University
I worked for Christian Brothers for five years. Hence the choice of Interlibrary Loan Librarian for Chad. I actually did have to send a book to Truth or Consequences New Mexico, work late nights in the library, monitor computer use and work-study students. In my head, Chad works at CBU.
2) Lilies War
War of the Lilies is an annual event held ...
May 26, 2010
Work in Progress Wednesday
Untitled Flower Fairies
Kelig Raklray took another swing at the tree he was using for a pell. Maybe exercising on an empty stomach wasn't the smartest idea, but he could hardly sit around and wait to starve. There wasn't much for a fourth-rate swordsman's apprentice to do in the swamp.
He'd been wandering, more lost than anything, since his last master died in a battle with a Drasrt. There hadn't been anything left to bury of him. The humanoid lizards considered themselves the top of the food ...
Kelig Raklray took another swing at the tree he was using for a pell. Maybe exercising on an empty stomach wasn't the smartest idea, but he could hardly sit around and wait to starve. There wasn't much for a fourth-rate swordsman's apprentice to do in the swamp.
He'd been wandering, more lost than anything, since his last master died in a battle with a Drasrt. There hadn't been anything left to bury of him. The humanoid lizards considered themselves the top of the food ...
April 27, 2010
Genre Trends I am seeing, and my predictions.
Pulling out my Cloudy Crystal Ball(tm):
Steampunk is peaking. We're going to see a rash of it for about 2 years as the bandwagoners finally get to the shelves. Cyberpunk…not happening. Mythpunk/Bronzepunk, give it five more years.
Vampires are hot, but a lot of people are burning out. I give them 2-3 years before they return to perennial favorite status.
Werewolves are mostly over. Shapeshifters in general have about another year in non-wolf form.
Historicals…I foresee a rash of medievals because...
Steampunk is peaking. We're going to see a rash of it for about 2 years as the bandwagoners finally get to the shelves. Cyberpunk…not happening. Mythpunk/Bronzepunk, give it five more years.
Vampires are hot, but a lot of people are burning out. I give them 2-3 years before they return to perennial favorite status.
Werewolves are mostly over. Shapeshifters in general have about another year in non-wolf form.
Historicals…I foresee a rash of medievals because...
April 1, 2010
The Holy Fool
1 Corinthians 1, 27, "the weak things of the world hath God chosen that he may confound the strong."
Well, let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes of the Enemy! --Gandalf
A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it's the only weapon we have. --Roger Rabbit
It's April Fools today. It's also Maunday Thursday.
So, we're talking about Holy Fools.
Many faiths find the Fool a useful guise for a Teacher or Trickster.
Consider the musical GODSPELL. Jesus and his disciples are al...
March 4, 2010
Writing to music
A lot of writers use music when they write. Stephen King credits the beginning of The Stand to The Eagles. Some can't write to music with lyrics at all.
Me, it varies. Sometimes, I create a whole play list. This is most common when writing a novel. Sometimes, it's a song or two. Sometimes, it's just one song to get me over a hump.
"Between Despair and Ecstasy" is a short story (that is being redone into a novel at the editor's request) about vampire hunters. There is a scene in a vampire nightc...
Me, it varies. Sometimes, I create a whole play list. This is most common when writing a novel. Sometimes, it's a song or two. Sometimes, it's just one song to get me over a hump.
"Between Despair and Ecstasy" is a short story (that is being redone into a novel at the editor's request) about vampire hunters. There is a scene in a vampire nightc...
