K.A. Laity's Blog, page 125

Six Sentence Sunday: Just Waiting

Happy birthday, QoE! :-)



Another Sunday rolls around, another chance to sample new writers from a wee snippet of prose. Here's my six and yes it is inspired by a Fall song, so just deal with that, all right. Not everything comes from the words of Mark E. Smith: this week I wrote a story based on a song by one of the Rat Pack, just for a change of pace. The whole of this story is up at Near to the Knuckle, so if you like it you can read the whole thing and not just this snippet. They found just the right picture for this story, too -- love it!

He was just waiting, standing in the park, staring up at the window he knew so well and waiting–for what?
 A light, her face, a sign from the heavens? Everybody’s waiting for
something: chips and pie, pie in the sky, a windfall from their uncle
dying, a lottery win, fame and fortune and oh, honey, if you just put your head out the window and saw me standing here, you would know I’m the one.



But she never looked even
though he stood here too many nights and someone was bound to report him
as a perv or potential kiddie fiddler, but her presence drew him here
like a junkie to his fix. He just needed a sign.



“Well, what have we got here?”

If you want more, head over to Near to the Knuckle and check out the many fine stories they have there. Enjoy your Sunday, hope it's relaxing.



Drop by Six Sentence Sunday.[image error]

Unquiet Dreams & other things

I am so happy to announce that I just signed a contract with Tirgearr Publishing for a collection of short fiction to be called Unquiet Dreams . Stories old and new will be gathered up in this dark bouquet. I'm so excited! Some of these stories have not been available for a long time and people are always asking me about them, so I finally stirred myself to put together what I had. Wow, it's quite a lot! The title comes from Yeats' poem "The Stolen Child" so it's fitting that this comes about in Ireland and with an Irish publisher.



Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.



So this is me whispering in your ears with my unsettling stories, little trouts. More news as we get further along in the process.



I have also agreed to edit an anthology for the brand-spanking-new press Fox Spirit Books called Weird Noir. Here's the skinny on it:

On the gritty backstreets of a crumbling city, tough dames and dangerous men trade barbs, witticisms and a few gunshots. But there's a new twist where urban decay meets the eldritch borders of another world: WEIRD NOIR. Featuring thugs who sprout claws and fangs, gangsters with tentacles and the occasional succubus siren. The ambience is pure noir but the characters aren't just your average molls and mugs—the vamps might just be vamps. It's Patricia Highsmith meets Shirley Jackson or Dashiell Hammett filtered through H. P. Lovecraft. Mad, bad and truly dangerous to know, but irresistible all the same.

This will be fun; it will be coming out later this year. I should also have a story in their anthology Tales of the Nun and Dragon (assuming I get it done soon!). Isn't that cover the best?!







Last but far from least and hot off the presses, it's "My Twitter Wedding" over at Asinine Poetry. If you weren't so interested in this week's other publication, my gritty little crime story "Just Waiting" this might be more to your taste. Pure silliness dedicated to my sweetie. Enjoy.[image error]

Writer Wednesday: News

The pressing news is that ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales Vol. 1 can be obtained for FREE today and tomorrow. This slamming collection offers jam-packed thrills from me, Mr B, editor Matt Hilton, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, Richard Godwin, Graham Smith, David Barber and many many more. Highly recommended! Not just because I'm in it (though I'm quite fond of "Chickens" which gave me a chance to revisit Los Angeles) but because it's a lot old school non-stop action. As Crimesquad said in its review:




"This book should not be purchased by asthmatics or heavy smokers as it leaves a fit person breathless with excitement."



I had a wonderful trip with the lovely Maura and we both managed to write a lot
between enjoying ourselves immensely. A proper write up tomorrow but I
have oodles to catch up on with emails and whatnot, so you can get a
sneak peak at some of the photos here, beginning with a lovely one out the window of Maura's folks' house.



It's always nice to return home to another new publication. My short "Just Waiting" (yes, it is named after a Fall song >_<) appears over at Near to the Knuckle. Drop by and give it a read, comment and feel free to share -- let me know what you think.



Over at A Knife & A Quill I am Staff Member of the Month :-) Luca gave me a great write up. I have some new reviews going up this week. Unlike some big name reviewers, we don't sneer at writers because of assumptions about genres (and don't get me started on the superannuated NYTimes and their growing idiocy).



Busy busy. Maura and I managed to get a good amount of writing done after attending 2D, so it wasn't all idling on the beach. More to report soon -- get a sneak peak over at the new publisher Fox Spirit!












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Six Sentence Sunday: Biscuits

A little treat for this round of Six Sentence Sunday, the weekly banquet of words to help you sample new writers or savour old favourites. Here's the beginning of my postcard-sized story "Biscuits" which you can read in its entirety over at Postcard Fiction.

"You should have been nicer to me," Carlotta said as she stood over me with the tire iron.




"I see that now." I tried to get up, but my leg kept making that crunching sound. "It's not too late. I could mend my ways."




A feeble attempt; one she wasn't buying.


"I'm taking the cash..."

You can also read it over at Short Humour, which has another little bon mot from moi especially for British people in hot weather and anyone with an interest in geography. Enjoy! And be sure to check out the other Sunday Six folks.[image error]

Galway Sounds

Snufkin packs her bindle again: I am away with the lovely Maura for a jaunt north; with luck I will be able to share pictures along the way here and there, but for at least part of the weekend I will be -- gasp! -- without WiFi so I will necessarily have to curtail my posting a bit. Doubtless I will get a lot of writing done and maybe some reading, too.



So here are some sounds of Galway. I can't believe it's the end of May. How time has flown in this beautiful place.






listen to ‘Sunday Impromptu’ on Audioboo






listen to ‘Getting medieval’ on Audioboo






listen to ‘Brigit's Garden’ on Audioboo






listen to ‘House Martins’ on Audioboo






listen to ‘Birds in Cong’ on Audioboo
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Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Abed

My post is actually over at The Girls' Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse -- Abed (The Film):



What would you do to keep your family alive?



Watch the trailer to see if this is something you'd like to check out (i.e. not for the faint-hearted!)









Or just buy Beth's story for 99¢ on Amazon:











And be sure to pop over to Todd's to see the round-up of overlooked sights & sounds. Busy week: news soon! So little time, so much to do...[image error]

Six Sentence Sunday: Kiss Like a Fist

The lovely Monica Vitti for no reason at all

That time again: Six Sentence Sunday. I figured you might like a song-inspired story that isn't inspired by The Fall.



Yes, they do exist.



The song is Florence + The Machine's "Kiss With a Fist" which you'll notice is not quite the same as the title of my story. There has to be a word for it: someone who cannot get a quote right to save their life. Even when they're singing along with the words. Hopeless: maybe that's the word. I gave that characteristic to my character Ro in my novel Owl Stretching [oh and good news -- final edits accepted, so with luck I'll hear something soon about the release date and so forth].



So here's my six from "Kiss Like a Fist" and below it Flo's bouncy celebration of mutual assured destruction. I've bleeped one objectionable word so I don't have to add an adult content warning to the blog; you'll find my crime/noir stories a bit sweary (Chloë would approve). This one also contains gratuitous but minor Shakespeare swipage (you wouldn't even notice if I didn't tell you -- working these things in is just the kind of puzzle that entertains me and matters to no one else. Another habit I need to cure, I'm sure):

She had a mouth that could raise the dead. It had raised me plenty over the years, but I'd never been close enough to Rosaline's orbit to do anything about it.





Until tonight.





I brought her a third martini and her tongue had loosened enough to share some sage advice with me as she leaned back in the little snug. "Never f**k anyone crazier than yourself," she said, sucking an olive between those rose red lips.


I would have done well to listen to that advice, but it was already too late...

Check out the wealth of authors participating in Six Sentence Sunday and find some new gems. This story's been under submission for about two months; checking Duotrope, that doesn't seem to be an unusual length for this publication (alas), so I'll curtail my impatience and keep working on other things. You know me, I get itchy if I don't have a new publication coming out.[image error]

Friday's Forgotten Books: Lyrics and A Hard Road to Nowhere

 

A bit of a cheat: a music two-fer. One is old, but the other's new; nonetheless, given the difficulty of finding your audience in the ocean of new publications out there, it deserves a boost to the signal.



The Fall: Lyrics by Mark E. Smith



The lynchpin of my current writing career: what, you think I exaggerate? With stories like "It's a Curse" and "Bill is Dead" and "Mandrake Anthrax" and "Grotesque" and "Just Waiting"? I do occasionally have stories not inspired by Smith's lyrics but they're getting to be in the minority. The Fall's lyrics are like Zen koans mashed up with the ramblings of a mad meth drinker with overstuffed carrier bags.



My garden is made of stone

There's a computer centre over the road

I saw a monster on the roof

Its colours glowed on the roof



All the songs in this collection will forever be coloured by reading the German translations out loud on the tube going back from Kentish Town to Stockwell while giggling madly after that first hypnotic show. Magic.



John Hodgson's A Hard Road to Nowhere: The Blitzkrieg Bop Story captures that story from the other side of the equation; the intoxicating, maddening, frustrating and elating process of forging music in the fluctuating organism that is a band -- or rather a series of bands that finally create a centre of gravity that becomes Blitzkrieg Bop. Obviously blown away by The Ramones at a crucial age, Hodgson and his fellow bandmates find a wellspring of inspiration as the first eruptions of punk arrive in the remote northeast of England. The third person narrative occasionally feels a bit awkward but it provides a way to highlight the pages ripped from Hodgson's journals of the period, which capture the youthful highs and lows with vivid authenticity.



Cheap as chips: get it now -- and be sure to bookmark Hodgson's Soundcloud page for the music to accompany it. A wide variety of songs, old and new and updated. Good stuff.



See also my review of Val McDermid's The Distant Echo over at A Knife & A Quill.



Not sure if the FFB will be at Patti's or at Todd's -- check both, they're bound to be worth it.
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Crime Pop and Burning Bridges

I've got a piece over on A Knife & A Quill on pop music with crime (no, not criminally bad pop music, although I do make mention of The Buoys' "Timothy" alas):



I was listening to Skydaddies’ “Murder in the Park”, a fine Beatlesesque
— no, really more Rutlesesque! Not because it’s a parody, but because
it knows how it’s being Beatlesesque, if you know what I mean —
tune about a girl who takes pictures of a murder in a park and it
struck me that there’s a good amount of crime music in unexpected
places. Not in rap songs about poppin’ caps in someone’s arse or thrash
metal about KILLING! but in more unusual places...



And do listen to Skydaddies (kind of a preview of tomorrow's book as well):



SKYDADDIES - Murder In The Park (2012 edit)



I had a guest post over at Fiona's: she's asked the Burning Bridges folks to suggest what they'd like to set fire to -- sort of an impromptu Room 101 . Drop by and suggest more things to burn because

I am the god of hellfire and I bring you:





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Writer Wednesday: Post Card Fiction Prizes

Making your mark in the world can be a tenuous thing; as long as the good will of others holds up or their indifference doesn't take over, you stand the chances of being forgotten within your lifetime. You may find fame and fortune, but the odds are against it. So don't be depressed by that! Make every day fun. Create something, anything. I made a lovely postcard for a friend this morning with my Tate Mod postcard book (a book of blank postcards of heavy paper stock) with my watercolour pencils and it sort of turned out like I imagined it.



As far as I'm concerned, that's success.



I got paid very well for a very short story: that's success, too. But it can't be the reason for doing it because writing takes so long even for a rather short story. The pleasure of creating, of figuring out the myriad puzzles that go into anything you make, that has to be its own reward -- often it will be the only one you get. Hey, I didn't say stop trying for more mundane success -- keep at it. As the lottery ads in NY say, "Hey, you never know." You stand a better chance at succeeding with your creativity that you do with the lottery anyway.



If you need a laugh, go read my silly poem "On Seeking a Place for a Picnic." If you want something more substantial, go read my reviews and whatnot over at A Knife & A Quill. Or go "like" our Burning Bridges book trailer: it's got a "dislike" -- I suspect our former publisher has found it.



All right, enough delay: let me announce the first annual Postcard Fiction Contest prize winners. First, let me thank everyone who entered. I was well pleased with your cards and stories -- some of you went all out and I have to say the postcards did enter into my deliberations. How could they not?



So I read and re-read and finally narrowed it down to three finalists. Because I promised a cash prize for the top winner, I decided I needed some other kind of prize, so it will be titles.



DICKINSON PRIZE (AKA second runner up)



"alessandra" for 'Amherst's Mad Pastoral' on postcard of Trastevere (I can almost taste the food)





MOORE PRIZE (AKA first runner up)



"mbilokur" for 'Better the devil you know' on postcard of Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera & a giant papier maché demon







and the grand prize including cash in the current value of US$25 goes to --



[drum roll]



POSTCARD FICTION GRAND PRIZE



"shloobee" for 'Don't do it, Salvador!' on postcard of 'Salvador Dalí in jener fiktiven Position, die auf sein Gemälde La gare de perpignan übertragen wurde, assistiert von Dr. Soler-Roig in einem Helikopter' of which the text here follows:



'Don't do it, Salvador!' The lemur sounded more alarmed than she felt. Dalí was always up to some sort of ballbaggery and usually came out of it quite well. A token protest was always welcome to the artist's ears, however, and the lemur liked to please. 'Do not fear, my little one,' said Salvador, 'nothing can go wrong. This world is but an oyster in a jam jar ripe for the taking.' The lemur watched as Salvador pushed himself from the balustrade and swan dived out into the empty space. He hung there for a moment, or so it seemed...and then plummeted to earth. The lemur watched him hit the ground. 'Oh dear,' she said. 'Who does he suppose is going to clean that up?'



Congratulations, all!




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