Icy Sedgwick's Blog, page 115

[Book Review] Must Love Dragons

If you say "elves" and "dragons" in the same breath as "fantasy", most people will think Tolkien, or something along those lines. Well who says fantasy has to be so po-faced and formulaic? Why can't it be...fun? Thankfully Monica Marier must have been thinking the same thing when she wrote Must Love Dragons.



Must Love Dragons tells the story of Linus Weedwhacker, a half-elf Ranger married to a shapeshifting dragon. He's gived up his job to look after the kids while his wife runs a successful jewellery store - already very progressive for a genre in which most women are relegated to damsels, scheming queens or evil witches. When his wife falls pregnant again, she goes off to stay with her bad-tempered reptilian mother, and Linus goes back to work as a Ranger. Is it easy? No! There again, there would be no fun in it if it was.



Linus must team up with an enthusiastic young elf named Morfindel, and elven siblings Wendria and Bart to rid a village of a nearby infestation. Wendria is an academic but useless in the field, Bart has issues with authority, and Morfindel is...well, he's Morfindel, and absolutely lovable despite being utterly clueless. Linus is forced to play Dad while keeping them, and himself, out of trouble. Clearly the job of a Ranger is fraught with peril, involving a spot of bother with frost dragons, food poisoning and even political shenanigans.



Must Love Dragons is no kiddie quest story, with Linus appearing more as a 'John McClane in Middle Earth' character. In fact, the one thing missing from the book is a "Yippee-kai-ay!" Anyone who has ever encountered even a smidgen of bureaucratic nonsense in the workplace will surely sympathise with the various predicaments in which he finds himself, and the fact that he is so curmudgeonly just makes him so much more appealing as a hero. In fact, he's more like Snake Plisskin. He just wants to do the job and go home, and can everyone just leave him alone when he's finished?



The dialogue is sparky, and more than one passage had me chuckling. The action scenes crack along at an impressive rate, and the pacing makes this a real page-turner. Linus is a likeable protagonist, although he's occasionally upstaged by the earnest Morfindel. Must Love Dragons scores in that it is so heavily rooted in fantasy mores (musty village shops, elves, magic, dragons etc.) yet happily up-ends the whole lot to bring a touch of humour and humanity to an occasionally staid genre. Anyone for a spot of comedy-fantasy?



You can buy Must Love Dragons from Lulu or Amazon.



Monica Marier is a caffeinated writer, artist, mother and eccentric. On weekdays, she's busy working on her books, recording audio files, and composing serials and short stories for her blog. On weekends she's a co-founder of Tangent Artists, a webcomic company where she writes and does art for 3 comic series.



Her book Must Love Dragons is now on-sale through Lulu, Amazon, and upon request at Barnes & Noble. The sequel Runs in Good Condition is now available for pre-order through Hunt Press. Her serial, Madame Bluestocking's Pennyhorrid is now running in the e-zine Dr. Fantastique's Show of Wonders.

Photo Prompt 32

Latest prompt, ready and waiting.



If you want to use the prompt, all I ask is that you include a link to this entry and a credit to me for the photograph, and that you post a link to your story in the comments box below so I can see what you've come up with! If you don't comment on this entry, then I can't comment on your story.



The thirty-second prompt is Sun Dial.





All photo prompts are my own photography - you can find more of it on Flickr. You can also buy my prints from Deviantart. 20% of all proceeds go to charity - the other 80% go towards my PhD fees!

[Book Review] From Dark Places

It seems like many months ago indeed that I stumbled across a blog by an English writer, whose work impressed me enough to find her on Twitter and begin an acquaintance. Since then, we've become (I hope!) friends, and Emma Newman has become one of my very favourite writers. Emma was really one of the first writers I interacted with on Twitter, so if it wasn't for her, there are a lot of writers I know now who I might otherwise never have met! She writes flash fiction as part of the #FridayFlash community, and she's currently promoting the e-book release of her first novel, 20 Years Later . However, it's her current release that interests me here, since I spent this afternoon at its London launch.



The short story is a splendid thing indeed, a snapshot into a time and place that we can visit with the writer as our guide. More fulfilling on a lunchbreak or while waiting for the bus than the gossip columns of a glossy magazine, the short story has become a bit of an artform. So much so that I've been looking forward to the official launch of Emma's anthology, From Dark Places, for a while.



Now, I already own the original e-book release that Emma did some time ago, and I've read many of the stories as a member of her Short Story Club (more on that later). However, the anthology was picked up, expanded, and polished by Jodi Cleghorn of eMergent Publishing, the Anglo-Australian independent publishing company behind the Chinese Whisperings and Literary Mixtapes projects, as well as 100 Stories for Queensland.



From Dark Places comprises twenty five stories of varying lengths, exploring a myriad of themes and ideas, yet always centred upon the very real dilemmas and problems faced by the characters. As the blurb says, "Abby finds a creative solution to her father's problems. Ben makes a pact with the Devil for a new Mum. Katie is pursued by unrelenting voices. John just found his colleague's hand in a strange girl's lap. Jarvis is falling apart on his wedding day. Rosalind comes face-to-face with her number one fan. And that is just the beginning." They're dark and chilling, yet altogether human. Stories might deal with zombie invasions, angels and demons, or simply the fallout from a relationship gone awry, and yet it is the people at the centre of the stories that binds them together.



Emma also does audio work, so it was a real pleasure to hear her read aloud four of the stories - The Victim, The Letter, The Straw and In the Bag. The latter in particular is an impressive tale that encompasses the quest for eternal youth, celebrity stalkers and zombies. You can't say that of many stories. My own personal favourites in the volume are probably The Art of Desire, in which a little girl discovers a special artistic talent, Shedding, which is a wonderful little story of the true depths of understanding, Idolised, a powerful story about the dangerous reaches of belief, and the title story, From Dark Places. I award the anthology five blunt pencils out of five!



You can order a signed copy here, or you can buy the e-book for £2.99. You can read the first two stories here. If you like, you can follow Emma on Twitter @EmApocalyptic and you can "like" the book on Facebook.



Many of the stories in the anthology started life as stories sent to Emma's Short Story Club - members send prompts every month, and Emma chooses her favourite and writes the story. The winner gets to see it first, before it's sent to the rest of the members. If you want to get to read brand new and exclusive dark fiction, you can sign up for free here. In fact, my own prompt went on to inspire The Victim, included in From Dark Places, so I highly recommend signing up!

Friday Flash - Lone Vigil

Original image by dragoroth-stock. Edit by me.
Fear not, dear friends, there is actually a Friday Flash, it's just not here this week. Instead, it can be found over on my brand new Fowlis Westerby blog since it features the fearless Cavalier!



In future I'll be posting his flashes on his blog, although I'll still be posting regular Friday Flashes here, along with my Monday Photo Prompts and any other nonsense I can rustle up during the week, including more deconstructions and deleted scenes!



As always, comments on Lone Vigil are welcome either here or there, but Fowlis would be exceedingly pleased to see you.

Friday Flash - Deleted Scenes

I posted my Friday Flash, First Date, last week, and I promised I'd post a "deleted scene" since I found myself torn between two endings while writing the flash. I threw open the voting to the Twitterati and I got more votes for the so-called "unhappy ending", but for those who wanted a happy ending, here it is. I haven't posted the rest of the flash for the sake of brevity, but due to the way I split the flash into chunks, you can pick it up from the original story. Hopefully this will grant even more of an insight into my writing process.



Deleted Scene

8:20pm

I work up the courage to call Parker. His phone rings for what feels like an eternity, before I'm put through to voicemail. I hang up, knowing my voice will crack and betray my disappointment if I try to leave a message. I look out of the window, keen to face away from everyone in case they see me welling up. I think of going home, and I picture Tex greeting me at the door and wagging his tail when I give him a cuddle.



8:25pm

I look up and notice the food critic watching me. He smiles, and the warmth reaches his eyes. He looks so much like my Ben. Same twinkling brown eyes, same dimples. I can't stop myself from smiling back. He slips his notebook and pen into a battered briefcase, and walks over to my table. He gestures to the empty seat opposite me, and asks if he can join me. I sneak a glance at my phone. Parker is now almost an hour and a half late, and there is still no word from him. Normally I would say no, but I'm grateful for the company. I nod, and the critic sits down.



10:35pm

It turns out his name is Richard, and I was right - he is a food critic for the Post. He likes Johnny Cash and the plays of Oscar Wilde, and he speaks very good French and very poor Spanish. We spent two hours talking about everything and nothing. As he insists on paying the bill, I realise I still haven't heard from Parker, although I no longer care. Richard gives me his number, and walks me to my car. He kisses my hand as we say goodbye. I'm still smiling as I drive away.

Photo Prompt 31

Latest prompt, ready and waiting.



If you want to use the prompt, all I ask is that you include a link to this entry and a credit to me for the photograph, and that you post a link to your story in the comments box below so I can see what you've come up with! If you don't comment on this entry, then I can't comment on your story.



The thirty-first prompt is Zombie at the Cashpoint.





All photo prompts are my own photography - you can find more of it on Flickr. You can also buy my prints from Deviantart. 20% of all proceeds go to charity - the other 80% go towards my PhD fees!

Friday Flash - First Date

7:07pm.

I'm sitting at the table near the window. Trust Parker to book a table with such a lovely view. The first time I read his profile on Match, I knew he would be a man of taste. I can look out into the landscaped garden to my left, and if I look to my right I can see the door. I wonder if this was Parker's intention, to sit here and watch me make my entrance. Of course, Parker would need to be here first, and he's not. Still, he's only seven minutes late. He couldn't have known I'd be early due to nerves. He's probably parking the car right now.



7:15pm.

The waiter brings me my first glass of wine - a heady merlot. I think he's relieved I've finally ordered something. I'm sure Parker won't mind when he gets here. After all, it's only one drink, just to be polite. I leave it on the table, intending to drink it when Parker gets here. He'll be here soon.



7:25pm.The waiter whisks my empty glass away. I wonder where Parker is. It must be the right date and time, or they would never have shown me to his table. I check my phone in case he's tried to call to say he's been held up. Wasn't his big presentation today? I try to think back to the last email he sent. Yes, maybe he's just been held up.



7:35pm.

The waiter brings me a second glass of merlot. Still no word from Parker. Is it too soon to call and ask if he's coming? I don't know what the protocol is. I haven't dated in fifteen years, and this is the first date I've had from an Internet site. It wasn't like this when I met Ben. Back then, it was having to share a table in a busy cafe, swapping phone numbers, and then marriage six months later. I send Parker a brief text, saying I hope the presentation went well, and that he can tell me about it over dinner. I wonder if he's forgotten our date. Ben never forgot anything.



7:45pm.

The waiter whisks away my empty glass. I gaze around the room. The other tables are occupied by gossiping women guzzling wine in between courses, happy couples, or loud businessmen discussing deals over their steak. Only one other person is here on his own, and he scribbles in a notebook after every forkful. Maybe he's a food critic.



7:50pm

The waiter just came back to ask if I want another glass of wine. I tell him I don't - I should really wait for Parker. As soon as he leaves I want to call him back, just for someone to talk to. I look around the other tables and imagine that they're all staring at me. I bet they're thinking I look pathetic, sat here by myself. Is it okay if I have a third glass of wine, or does that just mean I'll go from waiting for a date to drinking alone? The waiter glares at me, and I consider ordering dinner. I can't bring myself to. If I do, then Parker will arrive and think less of me for not waiting. Then again, if I don't order anything, he won't show.



8pm

Parker is an hour late and there is still no word from him. A third glass of merlot sits on the table in front of me. The smell turns my stomach. I check my phone again. Nothing. I find the email app and log into my account. There, in black and white, is today's date, 7pm, and the name of this restaurant. I didn't get it wrong after all. I wondered if he'd taken one look at me and decided not to come in. I hope not. He's seen my picture online, and I took care to use the nicest photo I have. I don't think I look all that different in person.



8:10pm

The waiters are getting angry with me. I pull up Parker's number, and my finger hovers over the 'Call' button. Who am I kidding? Parker isn't running late - he just isn't coming. I think of Tex, my old labrador, who is no doubt sat in the living room patiently waiting for me to come home. I get the urge to pay my bill and go home. There's a pizza in the freezer that I can have for dinner. If I leave now, I can be home in time to curl up on the couch with Tex and watch The Mentalist. Still, I can't leave. Not alone. Everyone will know I was stood up. The waiter glares at me. I have to make a decision. I either order more drinks, have dinner, or leave.



8:20pm

I work up the courage to call Parker. His phone rings for what feels like an eternity, before I'm put through to voicemail. I hang up, knowing my voice will crack and betray my disappointment if I try to leave a message. I look out of the window, keen to face away from everyone in case they see me welling up. I think of going home, and I picture Tex greeting me at the door and wagging his tail when I give him a cuddle.



A couple walk past the window. The woman is a stunning blonde with the kind of bombshell figure you only get with surgery and a personal trainer. She's wearing a clingy gold dress and I suddenly feel very dowdy in my burgundy blouse and cream skirt. My eye is drawn to her companion. He's tall, and grey streaks through his dark brown hair. He has his arm around her waist. The man briefly looks in my direction, and looks away just as quickly.



I signal to the waiter for the bill, and try not to think about how much the man outside looked like Parker.



* * *

This story came from a prompt from Tony Noland about an empty wine glass. Tony's just released his first short fiction anthology, Blood Picnic, which is a bargain at $2.99 over on Smashwords!



However, the story did give rise to two endings. After throwing open the voting for a happy ending on Twitter, more people wanted the unhappy ending you see here, although I'll be posting the alternative happy ending next week!

Deconstructing a flash

By Nina Matthews Photography
I had a pretty good response to my most recent Friday Flash, Blind Date , and I thought I'd take a moment to explain why I chose to focus on the character that I did. The intended misdirection won't work if you read this post first, so go take a look at the story and then come back.



*sits and whistles a spot of Tyketto while she waits*



Back? Good! I hope you enjoyed that, because I certainly enjoyed writing it. Well, once I figured out how to do it. My original story contained a lot more dialogue, but the first version made it too obvious who Christopher's blind date was before the final reveal. It was also too long, so I scrapped it. Nor did the story work in third person. I needed to switch it into first person in order to let Christopher explain why he'd willing let himself be picked up by a strange woman on behalf of someone else. In the first version, Christopher was an unwitting victim, led astray by simple curiosity, but I decided to make him a slimy con artist who gets his just desserts.



Why? Well, mostly because I love the character of Medusa, and I didn't want to portray her as a monster. I realised that classic mythology does exactly that, but I've always felt somewhat sorry for Medusa. She was originally a very beautiful woman, turned into a monster by the goddess Athena. She has several "origins stories" - in one, she descrates Athena's temple by sleeping with Poseidon, leading to Athena turning Medusa into a monster in a fit of pique. This particular legend also sees Medusa killed by Perseus, and her dead body gives birth to Pegasus (Medusa and Poseidon's son). In another legend, Medusa is not the femme fatale, but rather a beautiful mortal seduced by Poseidon in Athena's temple. Again, Athena loses her temper and turns Medusa into a monster, but she also grants her the power of turning people into stone. There is yet another legend in which Medusa is simply born hideous, and the shock of seeing her turns people to stone. At some point, her power was changed to only affect men.



So I got to thinking. What if Perseus hadn't killed her? What if she was still living in her cave somewhere, paralysed by the knowledge that she must stay hidden or risk turning people to stone? Wouldn't she get awfully lonely? I've chosen the legend in which her power only works on men, which in turn raises questions about the destructive female gaze (in cinema in particular, the destructive gaze is usually characterised as male - look at the opening scene of Halloween, or ANY of Peeping Tom). Medusa can be seen to represent the potential "threat" of female sexuality toward the established male hierarchy. For me personally, she represents the suppressed woman, or the tragic figure punished for the crimes of another (in this case, Poseidon). She's granted destructive power as well as monstrosity, although I did like the fact that in 2010's Clash of the Titans, she was still depicted as being beautiful as well as monstrous.



So there was my construction of Medusa - beautiful but lonely woman hampered by an extreme disability, and unable to find a companion. In a way, her entire being has been destroyed by Poseidon's selfish act, and now Medusa has to live with the consequences. I added an extra layer of symbolism by naming her faithful servant Daphne - in Greek mythology, Daphne was a beautiful nymph pursued by Apollo. Determined to preserve her virginity and not predisposed to enjoy the attentions of a god, she prays to the river for help, and she is transformed into a laurel tree. Both Daphne and Medusa are punished for being attractive to men.



Enter sleazy Christopher, and the stage is set. I suppose it helps that one of my favourite songs is Heart's If Looks Could Kill, a revenge song from a woman to her unfaithful boyfriend. Medusa's last line of dialogue came from her as I was writing, although it's entirely possible that it's from the part of my consciousness that is crippled by self-esteem issues. However, I chose to keep Medusa hidden until the end as I wanted the first section to be very much from Christopher's point of view. We have no knowledge of the identity of his date until he does - although we escape being turned into stone and get to see Medusa's sad reaction. Sure, I could be accused of denying Medusa a voice or a point of view but that's not the point of this flash.



So there you have it! That's how I constructed the flash. Any questions?

Photo Prompt 30

Latest prompt, ready and waiting.



If you want to use the prompt, all I ask is that you include a link to this entry and a credit to me for the photograph, and that you post a link to your story in the comments box below so I can see what you've come up with! If you don't comment on this entry, then I can't comment on your story.



The thirtieth prompt is Piazza San Marco.





All photo prompts are my own photography - you can find more of it on Flickr. You can also buy my prints from Deviantart. 20% of all proceeds go to charity - the other 80% go towards my PhD fees!

Friday Flash - Blind Date

So there I am, sitting in the back of the taxi with the cute brunette. She keeps fiddling with the strap of her bag, and I resist the urge to put my hand on her knee. I thought I was dreaming when she came up to me by the pool. Normally I have to buy a chick a few drinks before she's so bold. Not little Daphne. Of course, she wasn't talking to me for her. No, she figured her mistress would like me. You know the type - shy divorcee, too scared to approach a guy herself, so gets a companion to do it for her. Well, I've been scamming old broads along the coast for four years - what was one more?



"My mistress is a powerful woman. She is somewhat...how do you say...eccentric," says Daphne.



"You mean she's rich?" She'd better be - Armani suits don't come cheap, and regular work just doesn't do it for me.



"If you prefer." Daphne forces a smile.



"That's cool, I dig an eccentric chick."



"Good. In that event, she would prefer you to wear this."



Daphne draws a length of black silk from her bag. A damn blindfold.



"Whoa, she's kinky?"



"No, she would simply have you judge her on her conversation."



"Hey, I'm cool with that."



You always have to play along with them. It lets them think they're in control, which makes my life a whole heap easier. I put on the blindfold as the taxi turns down the track towards the beach.



The road slopes downhill, and the air coming through the open window feels colder. The breeze smells strange, but I just figure the fishing boats must be heading back in. The taxi lurches to a stop, and Daphne grabs my shoulder before I headbutt the driver's seat. She helps me out of the car and pays the driver. The taxi pulls away as she leads me along the track. I stumble up a couple of steps, and I figure we're inside when the temperature drops again.



Daphne leads me down a passage, and down a flight of stairs. That's weird - how many people live in the basement? This chick must really be a whack job. She'd better be loaded after this. I notice that smell again. I'm about to say something to Daphne when the most beautiful voice interrupts me.



"You have arrived. I am pleased."



I smile in what I hope is the woman's direction. Her voice echoes and I'm guessing there's a whole heap of marble in here. I smile again, but this time it's for me. Marble isn't cheap.



"Would you care for refreshments?" she asks. Her English is good for a Greek broad. Good, but stilted. It's that voice though. She sounds like that actress - Kathleen Turner. Call me a fool, but I was always a sucker for her voice.



Daphne takes my arm and leads me after the woman. I realise I don't even know her name. I figure I'll just make up some pet name. Daphne sits me on a sofa and presses a wine glass into my hand.



"Would you care for something to eat?" asks my date.



"I'm good with the wine for now."



"As you wish."



I hear the slow, steady drip of water somewhere off to my right. It echoes – this room must be huge. I wonder if the old dame has installed an indoor fountain or something. I get an itch under the blindfold. I slip my finger underneath to scratch my eyebrow. A hissing sound starts in front of me.



"What the hell's that?"



"What is what?" asks my date.



"That hissing noise."



"I hear no noise."



I drop my hand back to my lap and the hissing stops. Weird. I hope she's not so much of a whack job that she has pet snakes. If there's one thing I don't like, it's snakes.



"So...darling...can I take this blindfold off now?"I ask. It's making my face sweat and I'm starting to feel uncomfortable.



"I would prefer that you did not."



"Why? I mean, I've come all the way down here, I'd like to see how beautiful my date is for myself," I say. I'm flattering her now – I just want to make sure she's not one of those hideous chicks. Not that it would stop me if she was, it just makes this sweeter if she's attractive.



"Beauty – it is only skin deep, Christopher," says my date.



Wow, I can hear her gritting her teeth. Yeah, she must have fallen out the wrong side of the ugly tree – she's one of those "oh the real beauty lies within" hippy types. I don't care – her real beauty is her bank balance. Still, I can't stop being curious. I pull the blindfold down. Daphne gasps and I lay eyes on my date.



* * *

Medusa sighed. She walked across the cavern to inspect her new statue. The face held a mixture of conceited pride and shock, the hand still clutching the blindfold frozen near the face.



"He is a handsome man, is he not?" asked Medusa. Her snakes hissed in agreement and Daphne nodded. "He will go nicely with the rest of my collection. So handsome...it is such a pity, but they are always so obsessed with looks."



She looked over her shoulder. Hundreds of niches carved into the rock wall held statues of all sizes and poses. All of the men, all of them frozen by Medusa's beauty forever.