Heather Lyons's Blog, page 14
October 31, 2012
short story--gardening in suburbia
so, happy halloween, all! i wanted to share a story with you that i first wrote way back in (coughcough) high school for a seasonal writing contest. i forgot all about it for years until a halloween reading was announced for the writing group i belong to. as i'm not much of a horror writer, i dug this one out and overhauled it completely, leaving only the bare bones of the original behind. i hope you enjoy it!
Gardening in Suburbia
The man squinted into the overly bright sky. There was nary a cloud to be found, just a wide expanse of a reversed calm ocean which made him feel as if his body was compact. Insignificant. A speck of dust amongst a great vastness.
It was a good feeling, considering.
He stayed this way, squinting into the blue, until the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. This was how it was between them, how it always had been. How he figured it always would be.
“I’ve been thinking that perhaps we ought to start a garden.”
There was a very long pause, once he’d anticipated as she came to stand next to him. “Oh?” she asked, and it was done warily. “What brought this on?”
His body shifted just enough that a small sliver of his arm brushed against hers. It was good to always have this bit of contact, even though it chilled his blood considerably. “It’s what one does in a place like this, is it not?”
She slowly glanced around their new backyard. While clean and tidy, it was barren of any of the extraneous plants and ornamentations that many of the other neighbors had. This had been a purposeful choice on her behalf, and until this day, he’d supported it wholeheartedly. “All right, then,” she said slowly. “A garden we shall have.”
“Some other things, too,” he mused, testing the waters delicately. “A table perhaps. Some chairs?”
This clearly surprised her, for her eyes widened. They were very lovely eyes, dark and expressive, black pools he’d long ago drowned in. “Are you sure?”
The grass in front of him was neat, mowed and edged to exact perfection. It was something to surely be proud of, but it was also…
Simply grass.
He shrugged and said quietly, “It would please me.”
It was obvious she tampered down any further comments about their past for the moment, but she did it, as he knew she would. It was so rare he ever asked for anything. He was content to be the giver in their relationship, the provider, so when these moments came up, she tended to take them seriously. “Very well,” she said, her voice muted. “There is a store nearby that I think will serve our needs. I overheard one of the neighbors informing another that a spouse was dispatched to it for various home improvement sundries. If we go now,” and here she also peered into the sky, “we will still have enough time for tonight.”
Our needs. Music to his ears.
The drive to the store was a serene one. The windows were down in their leased Volvo and a radio station blared cheerful yet misogynistic lyrics and he was driving and she relaxed in the seat next to him. It was good to have these small moments, where they were simply people out doing what people did.
It made him feel like who he was, at the core. Who he’d been, he who hoped to reclaim in the end.
“Women around here cook,” she said, breaking their silence. He reached over and turned the music off so he could hear her soft burr better. “They bake. Somebody came by yesterday with brownies.”
“Did they?” he asked.
“I accepted them and then threw them away.”
“Ah,” he murmured softly.
“It was a . . . kind gesture,” she continued. “To welcome us, I believe. I also overheard a couple other women discussing a bake sale to help with one of the local schools.” Her dark hair swished as she lolled her head towards him. “I should try baking. Sometime.”
“To help fundraise for school?” He couldn’t help but tease.
Those black eyes, much like buttons, blinked slowly at him and then focused elsewhere. “Perhaps,” was all she was willing to concede.
The store she’d led them to was enormous, like a giant’s box set to earth and then surrounded by flat, gray concrete. It reeked of sawdust and of oil and a bit of staleness. They wandered the labyrinths inside, all the while pushing a germ-infested metal cart forcibly highlighted with orange plastic.
“It’s dead in here,” she commented as they gazed upon faucets they had no need for.
He did not answer. She didn’t need a response, nor, did he believe, wanted one.
Eventually, as they deliberated tables both glass and plastic, she asked, “This garden you want.”
He ran a finger across a plastic table and suppressed a shiver. It felt wrong, like an abomination. Plastic did no being any favors, especially him. “Yes?”
“May I have input?”
It was a carefully considered question, that was to be sure. And an encouraging one as well. “I would be delighted to have your ideas, leannán. What did you have in mind?”
“It has been . . . awhile now that I have had the opportunity to sow earth, but as you surely must remember, I once possessed what was considered a very fine green thumb.”
Her ability to manipulate plants was legendary and shouldered much of the impetus of how he’d come to be hers. He’d remembered this, of course, as he’d pondered the decision to own a garden once more over the last few days.
Youth always was a rosy time to reflect upon. It was glorious how memories could make past wrongs come out looking liking shining examples of exactly the right things to do.
“You did, indeed,” he said softly as he selected a small, wooden table that could be folded up. It was placed into the cart.
“Botany is a lost art nowadays. Everything is so . . .” She stared off, her eyes darker than normal. And then she sighed. “I miss the old days. I miss the magic and simplicity that came with life.”
As did he, ironically.
“I would like to do this for you, muirnín. I would like to craft you a garden to be proud of. May I do this for you?”
He thought back to the garden he’d found himself in so many years ago, of the soft, peaty loam and the dense, earthy scents that’d so easily overwhelmed him. She’d not possessed such a garden in ages, not since he’d joined her. It’d been a concession to him–an unspoken one that offered loyalty and penance. For many years, he’d been grateful for just such a thing.
Now . . .
Now those rosy memories were tugging at him in such vicious, sentimental ways.
He conceded this change of heart to her with a small, deft inclination of his head, fully understanding what he was agreeing to.
They selected a couple of chairs in silence–wooden and slated–and paid for them and the table at a register run by a very pretty girl. She must have been in her twenties, flushed with enthusiasm and hormones, and fawned over him without nary a glance at his other.
“Are you new around here?” the girl asked as she pressed the receipt into his outstretched hand longer than necessary.
Her name tag read Siobhan. He’d known a Siobhan, once. She’s been a fun one, the Siobhan of his past.
A smile was passed to the girl who looked nothing like the one from his youth, and she blushed.
“Too old,” was tut-tutted from behind. But it was laced with distraction.
He turned away from the sales clerk and studied the woman he’d bound himself to. Her eyes were scanning–narrowed and calculating, plotting exact measurements.
For him. Once more.
“If I recall correctly,” he said gently, “I wasn’t young, either.”
Her black eyes flicked to him as they walked towards the automatic doors. “This is different. I am going to create a masterpiece for you, and it will require time to flourish. We are staring fresh, muirnín. Good gardens always require youth to start with.” She paused and tentatively reached a hand out to lay against his forearm. It was cold, as always, but somehow it was the most lovely feeling in the world, an addiction he’d never been able to stave off. “I want to give you something beautiful, like you’ve given me.”
He stared at her in awe over how obsession and love could be so easily intertwined in situations such as theirs.
“Excuse me,” came a small voice to their left. They both swiveled and looked down at a child dressed in green with round patches decorating her garb. She motioned to a table nearby, resplendent with boxes. “We’re selling cookies. Would you like to buy some?”
“Darling child, I would be delighted,” his mate told the child.
Later that evening, as he sat at his wooden table, he watched her set to work in the birthing of their garden. Her nails were black already from earth, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, a glow set about her that he hadn’t seen in centuries.
She was content.
She was doing what she’d always meant to be doing.
Not everyone could lay claim to having a nursery rhyme created for them, he mused. But she did–his lovely, lovely Mary. Because of him, she’d squelched her true nature for too long, but he’d been ready to give her this opportunity to stretch her muscles and reclaim a bit of who she’d once been.
Who he’d been, before she’d buried him that first time.
He reached over and tore open a box of cookies. There were six on the table, two for each girl that now found herself feeding the new garden.
Mary, Mary, how does your garden grow? he thought with a stab of furious pride. He’d been the first, the only to have his fortune reversed. With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.
His bells were long gone.
“We’ll need more,” Mary told him as she brushed her hands against her long skirt. “Three isn’t enough to do what I want. I’ll need a good dozen, at least.”
“Of course,” he said, offering her a cookie.
She took it from him and clearly savored the minty chocolate, as a low hiss of satisfaction emitted as her eyes dropped close. And then, “Belladonna would look gorgeous back here. Hemlock, too. Perhaps some nightshade. And some white oleander, to be sure.”
His smile broke wide.
Maybe this new home, this new place, was
© 2011 by Heather Lyons
Gardening in Suburbia
The man squinted into the overly bright sky. There was nary a cloud to be found, just a wide expanse of a reversed calm ocean which made him feel as if his body was compact. Insignificant. A speck of dust amongst a great vastness.
It was a good feeling, considering.
He stayed this way, squinting into the blue, until the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. This was how it was between them, how it always had been. How he figured it always would be.
“I’ve been thinking that perhaps we ought to start a garden.”
There was a very long pause, once he’d anticipated as she came to stand next to him. “Oh?” she asked, and it was done warily. “What brought this on?”
His body shifted just enough that a small sliver of his arm brushed against hers. It was good to always have this bit of contact, even though it chilled his blood considerably. “It’s what one does in a place like this, is it not?”
She slowly glanced around their new backyard. While clean and tidy, it was barren of any of the extraneous plants and ornamentations that many of the other neighbors had. This had been a purposeful choice on her behalf, and until this day, he’d supported it wholeheartedly. “All right, then,” she said slowly. “A garden we shall have.”
“Some other things, too,” he mused, testing the waters delicately. “A table perhaps. Some chairs?”
This clearly surprised her, for her eyes widened. They were very lovely eyes, dark and expressive, black pools he’d long ago drowned in. “Are you sure?”
The grass in front of him was neat, mowed and edged to exact perfection. It was something to surely be proud of, but it was also…
Simply grass.
He shrugged and said quietly, “It would please me.”
It was obvious she tampered down any further comments about their past for the moment, but she did it, as he knew she would. It was so rare he ever asked for anything. He was content to be the giver in their relationship, the provider, so when these moments came up, she tended to take them seriously. “Very well,” she said, her voice muted. “There is a store nearby that I think will serve our needs. I overheard one of the neighbors informing another that a spouse was dispatched to it for various home improvement sundries. If we go now,” and here she also peered into the sky, “we will still have enough time for tonight.”
Our needs. Music to his ears.
The drive to the store was a serene one. The windows were down in their leased Volvo and a radio station blared cheerful yet misogynistic lyrics and he was driving and she relaxed in the seat next to him. It was good to have these small moments, where they were simply people out doing what people did.
It made him feel like who he was, at the core. Who he’d been, he who hoped to reclaim in the end.
“Women around here cook,” she said, breaking their silence. He reached over and turned the music off so he could hear her soft burr better. “They bake. Somebody came by yesterday with brownies.”
“Did they?” he asked.
“I accepted them and then threw them away.”
“Ah,” he murmured softly.
“It was a . . . kind gesture,” she continued. “To welcome us, I believe. I also overheard a couple other women discussing a bake sale to help with one of the local schools.” Her dark hair swished as she lolled her head towards him. “I should try baking. Sometime.”
“To help fundraise for school?” He couldn’t help but tease.
Those black eyes, much like buttons, blinked slowly at him and then focused elsewhere. “Perhaps,” was all she was willing to concede.
The store she’d led them to was enormous, like a giant’s box set to earth and then surrounded by flat, gray concrete. It reeked of sawdust and of oil and a bit of staleness. They wandered the labyrinths inside, all the while pushing a germ-infested metal cart forcibly highlighted with orange plastic.
“It’s dead in here,” she commented as they gazed upon faucets they had no need for.
He did not answer. She didn’t need a response, nor, did he believe, wanted one.
Eventually, as they deliberated tables both glass and plastic, she asked, “This garden you want.”
He ran a finger across a plastic table and suppressed a shiver. It felt wrong, like an abomination. Plastic did no being any favors, especially him. “Yes?”
“May I have input?”
It was a carefully considered question, that was to be sure. And an encouraging one as well. “I would be delighted to have your ideas, leannán. What did you have in mind?”
“It has been . . . awhile now that I have had the opportunity to sow earth, but as you surely must remember, I once possessed what was considered a very fine green thumb.”
Her ability to manipulate plants was legendary and shouldered much of the impetus of how he’d come to be hers. He’d remembered this, of course, as he’d pondered the decision to own a garden once more over the last few days.
Youth always was a rosy time to reflect upon. It was glorious how memories could make past wrongs come out looking liking shining examples of exactly the right things to do.
“You did, indeed,” he said softly as he selected a small, wooden table that could be folded up. It was placed into the cart.
“Botany is a lost art nowadays. Everything is so . . .” She stared off, her eyes darker than normal. And then she sighed. “I miss the old days. I miss the magic and simplicity that came with life.”
As did he, ironically.
“I would like to do this for you, muirnín. I would like to craft you a garden to be proud of. May I do this for you?”
He thought back to the garden he’d found himself in so many years ago, of the soft, peaty loam and the dense, earthy scents that’d so easily overwhelmed him. She’d not possessed such a garden in ages, not since he’d joined her. It’d been a concession to him–an unspoken one that offered loyalty and penance. For many years, he’d been grateful for just such a thing.
Now . . .
Now those rosy memories were tugging at him in such vicious, sentimental ways.
He conceded this change of heart to her with a small, deft inclination of his head, fully understanding what he was agreeing to.
They selected a couple of chairs in silence–wooden and slated–and paid for them and the table at a register run by a very pretty girl. She must have been in her twenties, flushed with enthusiasm and hormones, and fawned over him without nary a glance at his other.
“Are you new around here?” the girl asked as she pressed the receipt into his outstretched hand longer than necessary.
Her name tag read Siobhan. He’d known a Siobhan, once. She’s been a fun one, the Siobhan of his past.
A smile was passed to the girl who looked nothing like the one from his youth, and she blushed.
“Too old,” was tut-tutted from behind. But it was laced with distraction.
He turned away from the sales clerk and studied the woman he’d bound himself to. Her eyes were scanning–narrowed and calculating, plotting exact measurements.
For him. Once more.
“If I recall correctly,” he said gently, “I wasn’t young, either.”
Her black eyes flicked to him as they walked towards the automatic doors. “This is different. I am going to create a masterpiece for you, and it will require time to flourish. We are staring fresh, muirnín. Good gardens always require youth to start with.” She paused and tentatively reached a hand out to lay against his forearm. It was cold, as always, but somehow it was the most lovely feeling in the world, an addiction he’d never been able to stave off. “I want to give you something beautiful, like you’ve given me.”
He stared at her in awe over how obsession and love could be so easily intertwined in situations such as theirs.
“Excuse me,” came a small voice to their left. They both swiveled and looked down at a child dressed in green with round patches decorating her garb. She motioned to a table nearby, resplendent with boxes. “We’re selling cookies. Would you like to buy some?”
“Darling child, I would be delighted,” his mate told the child.
Later that evening, as he sat at his wooden table, he watched her set to work in the birthing of their garden. Her nails were black already from earth, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, a glow set about her that he hadn’t seen in centuries.
She was content.
She was doing what she’d always meant to be doing.
Not everyone could lay claim to having a nursery rhyme created for them, he mused. But she did–his lovely, lovely Mary. Because of him, she’d squelched her true nature for too long, but he’d been ready to give her this opportunity to stretch her muscles and reclaim a bit of who she’d once been.
Who he’d been, before she’d buried him that first time.
He reached over and tore open a box of cookies. There were six on the table, two for each girl that now found herself feeding the new garden.
Mary, Mary, how does your garden grow? he thought with a stab of furious pride. He’d been the first, the only to have his fortune reversed. With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.
His bells were long gone.
“We’ll need more,” Mary told him as she brushed her hands against her long skirt. “Three isn’t enough to do what I want. I’ll need a good dozen, at least.”
“Of course,” he said, offering her a cookie.
She took it from him and clearly savored the minty chocolate, as a low hiss of satisfaction emitted as her eyes dropped close. And then, “Belladonna would look gorgeous back here. Hemlock, too. Perhaps some nightshade. And some white oleander, to be sure.”
His smile broke wide.
Maybe this new home, this new place, was
© 2011 by Heather Lyons
October 23, 2012
WIN a copy of AMOF!
so, FRIENDS!
would you like a free autographed copy of my recently released YA fantasy/romance a matter of fate ? if the answer is yes, then you have a couple days to go enter the contest over at free book friday --i'm the featured indie author of the week! plus, i have an interview over there for you to read (yes, yes, OF COURSE i discuss music). you have until thursday night to enter!
go HERE to win yourself one of four autographed copies.
would you like a free autographed copy of my recently released YA fantasy/romance a matter of fate ? if the answer is yes, then you have a couple days to go enter the contest over at free book friday --i'm the featured indie author of the week! plus, i have an interview over there for you to read (yes, yes, OF COURSE i discuss music). you have until thursday night to enter!
go HERE to win yourself one of four autographed copies.
August 30, 2012
happy birthday, amof!
so, friends! FRIENDS! today is the official publication day for my YA fantasy/romance novel
a matter of fate
. HOORAY!!
it is a wild, fantastic, exhilarating, and terrifying day all at once.
this story has been percolating in my head since i was in high school, to be honest. the details of the very first versions are radically different than what amof is now (there was time travel to medieval england and was hilariously awful; thankfully, as it was written on a word processor--damn i'm old!--it shall never see the light of day)--but the bare bones concept was the same: a girl, struggling with her own identity and weighty expectations on her shoulders. and, oh yeah, hot twin brothers.
side note: this is particularly amusing for me now as i actually HAVE twin sons. and no--the ones in the story (which are identical; mine are fraternal) are in no way based on my own, who are six and thankfully (mostly?) girl-problem free.
but anyway! i am so excited to share this story and these characters with you. amof has been a labor of love for me, that's for sure.
as i've already shared the cover a couple times (indeed, even in the last post!), i thought i'd share a photo that really symbolizes--at least to me--the main character of amof , chloe:
(sunshine on my mind was created by amamak photography and can be purchased via etsy HERE)
want to read a matter of fate ? here's a breakdown of all the places you can get it!
* the easiest/quickest way is to head over to the bookstore page on my main site; there are easy-to-click icons that will take you to the various stores. go HERE to find them.
* kindle owners: buy a .mobi friendly copy HERE at amazon.
* nook and other e-book owners: buy an .epub friendly copy HERE at barnes and noble.
* paperback lovers: order your very own copy HERE.
i would love to hear from readers! feel free to email me anytime. happy reading!
it is a wild, fantastic, exhilarating, and terrifying day all at once.
this story has been percolating in my head since i was in high school, to be honest. the details of the very first versions are radically different than what amof is now (there was time travel to medieval england and was hilariously awful; thankfully, as it was written on a word processor--damn i'm old!--it shall never see the light of day)--but the bare bones concept was the same: a girl, struggling with her own identity and weighty expectations on her shoulders. and, oh yeah, hot twin brothers.
side note: this is particularly amusing for me now as i actually HAVE twin sons. and no--the ones in the story (which are identical; mine are fraternal) are in no way based on my own, who are six and thankfully (mostly?) girl-problem free.
but anyway! i am so excited to share this story and these characters with you. amof has been a labor of love for me, that's for sure.
as i've already shared the cover a couple times (indeed, even in the last post!), i thought i'd share a photo that really symbolizes--at least to me--the main character of amof , chloe:
(sunshine on my mind was created by amamak photography and can be purchased via etsy HERE)
want to read a matter of fate ? here's a breakdown of all the places you can get it!
* the easiest/quickest way is to head over to the bookstore page on my main site; there are easy-to-click icons that will take you to the various stores. go HERE to find them.
* kindle owners: buy a .mobi friendly copy HERE at amazon.
* nook and other e-book owners: buy an .epub friendly copy HERE at barnes and noble.
* paperback lovers: order your very own copy HERE.
i would love to hear from readers! feel free to email me anytime. happy reading!
August 26, 2012
AMOF news!
so, first off, an official release date for everyone waiting for my upcoming debut novel,
a matter of fate
:
thursday, august 30.
!!!!
i am so, so excited to share this book with you, friends! you will be able to buy e-copies from amazon and barnes and noble and get yourself paperback versions from createspace and amazon (i believe?). anywho! links will be published here on THURSDAY.
HOWEVER!
i have just found out that amazon has gone ahead, jumped the gun, and released the book already! the truth is, when i saw the link, i actually screamed. yes, screamed. like a little, excited girl because honestly? that's how i feel right now.
soooooo! for you kindle users, or ipad or ipod e-book readers with a kindle app, you may go forth and buy a matter of fate early!
once more, the official blurb:
Chloe Lilywhite struggles with all the normal problems of a typical seventeen-year-old high school student. Only, Chloe isn’t a normal teenage girl. She’s a Magical, part of a secret race of beings who influence the universe. More importantly, she’s a Creator, which means Fate mapped out her destiny long ago, from her college choice, to where she will live, to even her job. While her friends and relatives relish their future roles, Chloe resents the lack of say in her life, especially when she learns she’s to be guarded against a vengeful group of beings bent on wiping out her kind. Their number one target? Chloe, of course.
That’s nothing compared to the boy trouble she’s gotten herself into. Because a guy she’s literally dreamed of and loved her entire life, one she never knew truly existed, shows up in her math class, and with him comes a twin brother she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.
Chloe’s once unyielding path now has a lot more choices than she ever thought possible.
and the incredibly awesome cover:
you can buy a matter of fate from amazon HERE.
i look forward to hearing what you all think of chloe's story!
thursday, august 30.
!!!!
i am so, so excited to share this book with you, friends! you will be able to buy e-copies from amazon and barnes and noble and get yourself paperback versions from createspace and amazon (i believe?). anywho! links will be published here on THURSDAY.
HOWEVER!
i have just found out that amazon has gone ahead, jumped the gun, and released the book already! the truth is, when i saw the link, i actually screamed. yes, screamed. like a little, excited girl because honestly? that's how i feel right now.
soooooo! for you kindle users, or ipad or ipod e-book readers with a kindle app, you may go forth and buy a matter of fate early!
once more, the official blurb:
Chloe Lilywhite struggles with all the normal problems of a typical seventeen-year-old high school student. Only, Chloe isn’t a normal teenage girl. She’s a Magical, part of a secret race of beings who influence the universe. More importantly, she’s a Creator, which means Fate mapped out her destiny long ago, from her college choice, to where she will live, to even her job. While her friends and relatives relish their future roles, Chloe resents the lack of say in her life, especially when she learns she’s to be guarded against a vengeful group of beings bent on wiping out her kind. Their number one target? Chloe, of course.
That’s nothing compared to the boy trouble she’s gotten herself into. Because a guy she’s literally dreamed of and loved her entire life, one she never knew truly existed, shows up in her math class, and with him comes a twin brother she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.
Chloe’s once unyielding path now has a lot more choices than she ever thought possible.
and the incredibly awesome cover:
you can buy a matter of fate from amazon HERE.
i look forward to hearing what you all think of chloe's story!
August 13, 2012
the atolls--who shouldn't be quiet
so, recently, i was asked to refer a band for an arts event, but the truth is, while i've interviewed plenty of muscians and have reviewed a kabillion songs, i didn't actually have anybody local to refer. the husband, though, did. of course he did! he, the pre-eminent music snob in the household, is more knowledgeable about these things. i mean, dude is pretty hard to stump when it comes to music. for example: random song on the radio--what is it? he'll know. inside a store, an intriguing song comes on. does he know it? of course. we also have the cd somewhere in the garage (i kid you not, one entire wall in our garage houses cds).
yet i digress.
the point here is that he summoned up a name of an indie-rock band one town over called the atolls , and lo-and-behold, the band was actually able to play the event. which was awesome! because we totally were looking forward to hearing them play, especially the husband who'd reviewed their album favorably (go HERE to read his original review). they're a bit eclectic, at times introspective and at others youthful and silly.
but the show so didn't go down the way it should have. and here's why.
the arts event was held in claremont (for those of you out-of-towners, it's a small college community outside of los angeles that shockingly goes quiet and calm early in the evenings) at a place that, upon first glance, seems like a quirky yet ideal location for a band to play a small set. but . . . then it was decided that the band had to dampen their drums, because the establishment didn't want to annoy its neighbors.
okay, said the band. and they did. the first song started off the way you'd expect a live band who isn't playing acoustically would (as they'd not been asked to go acoustic ahead of time). loudish (not too loud, though) and filled with energy. half-way through the song they were told they were too loud.
!!!??
so the poor lead singer, daniel martin, took a few steps back from the mic and tried his best to sing quieter and play his guitar more muted. and i mean, it was bonkers, because their set list was blown out of the water with the duo scrambling to ascertain which of their songs (after joking with the husband and i earlier in the evening about how loud their new stuff was) would be appropriate and easy to convert into softer songs. my heart went out to them, it really did, because the atolls have a vibe about them that practically shrieks fun and loudness, and here they were, dripping wet from the bucket of water dumped over their heads.
when they got around to their set closer, a nearly impossible to neuter tune called older nazi boyfriends, it was make or break time. the band (and i think the audience?) were sort of like, screw it! let's go out with a slightly diminished bang (because, hello--they're nice dudes who were still trying their best to meet the sound requirements). so they played a wee bit louder, and the audience was totally into it. it was like a light was turned on in everybody, and there was this general sense of YES, YES, WE LIKE LOUD(ISH) MUSIC! AND IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT! LET'S ROCK! but, as i'm sure you can guess, somebody came racing in to say AHHH!!!! QUIET! QUIET! NO LOUD(ISH) MUSIC FOR ANY OF YOU!
which was hilariously sad. i mean, the band sort of was like, uh, seriously? and the audience was like, ARE YOU KIDDING US? and the song was pretty much cut off with a, "thanks for coming and listening to our crazy-ass set that so didn't go the way we thought it would?"
it's safe to say that the husband and i were like, oh, man, these dudes must HATE us for recommending them for this gig! but of course, the duo, the aforementioned daniel and drummer chris barela, were totally gracious about it afterwards.
so, since that went horribly awry, i'm gonna recommend them here to you all. here's what you ought to know about the group: they don't completely stick to one genre, which makes them interesting to listen to. and martin has a voice that reminds me of musical theatre, all rich and deep--like you can imagine him belting out those show tunes but at the same time completely buying him in an indie band, too.
tangles , the first song i want to share with you all, is appropriately quiet. i totally dig this song. it's got this nice, muted guitar line that's reminiscent of shoe-gazing, in a way, only the song is so not shoe-gazing. what it is, though, is a sad song (and oh, how i love me the sad songs)--all achy and bittersweet, about wanting more but having to accept what you have if you want to keep it at all.
tangles of wire tying you to the floor
your tangled bracelets follow me to the door
the perfect reason, if only a reason
find you by the river, impressions in the sand
you found exactly what you always wanted
hidden in your hands
tangles of branches, lifting me to the sky
your tangled fingers touching me up so high
the perfect lover, if only a lover
find you by the river, i'm sorry that i stare
you know how to make it look so easy
it's more than i can bear
find you by the river, impressions in the sand
listen to/download the song for free below:
Tangles by The Atolls
and, of course, i must share the turn-me-up, punkish older nazi boyfriends . it's also a not-so-happy tune, about domestic violence, but day-um, is it infectious.
she said i'm only as wet as you make me
so i made her cry
she said you shouldn't break my teenage heart
you'd like her to die
but that's what you get when you mess with
older nazi boyfriends, that's what you get when you
don't shut your pretty mouth
she said i gave you everything that you wanted
so why aren't you happy now
i said no
i know that your thoughts can't turn me down
i wanted it now
but that's what you get when you mess with older
nazi boyfriends, that's what you get when you wear
your collar like a crown
but if he gave you all the thoughts that keep you
up at night, and if he said the meanest things and
didn't treat you right, then girl go get your daddy's
gun, put up a real fight, yeah!
that's what you get when you mess with younger
beat up girlfriends, that's what you get when you
beat on pretty black eyed girls
that's what you get when you mess with younger
beat up girlfriends, that's what you get when you
don't shut your fucking mouth.
Older Nazi Boyfriends by The Atolls
both of these songs are off of a self-entitled EP that you can grab for free off of the band's bandcamp site. go HERE to do so. while you're there, you can also grab their recent LP, get popular, for free, too! go HERE to get it.
yet i digress.
the point here is that he summoned up a name of an indie-rock band one town over called the atolls , and lo-and-behold, the band was actually able to play the event. which was awesome! because we totally were looking forward to hearing them play, especially the husband who'd reviewed their album favorably (go HERE to read his original review). they're a bit eclectic, at times introspective and at others youthful and silly.
but the show so didn't go down the way it should have. and here's why.
the arts event was held in claremont (for those of you out-of-towners, it's a small college community outside of los angeles that shockingly goes quiet and calm early in the evenings) at a place that, upon first glance, seems like a quirky yet ideal location for a band to play a small set. but . . . then it was decided that the band had to dampen their drums, because the establishment didn't want to annoy its neighbors.
okay, said the band. and they did. the first song started off the way you'd expect a live band who isn't playing acoustically would (as they'd not been asked to go acoustic ahead of time). loudish (not too loud, though) and filled with energy. half-way through the song they were told they were too loud.
!!!??
so the poor lead singer, daniel martin, took a few steps back from the mic and tried his best to sing quieter and play his guitar more muted. and i mean, it was bonkers, because their set list was blown out of the water with the duo scrambling to ascertain which of their songs (after joking with the husband and i earlier in the evening about how loud their new stuff was) would be appropriate and easy to convert into softer songs. my heart went out to them, it really did, because the atolls have a vibe about them that practically shrieks fun and loudness, and here they were, dripping wet from the bucket of water dumped over their heads.
when they got around to their set closer, a nearly impossible to neuter tune called older nazi boyfriends, it was make or break time. the band (and i think the audience?) were sort of like, screw it! let's go out with a slightly diminished bang (because, hello--they're nice dudes who were still trying their best to meet the sound requirements). so they played a wee bit louder, and the audience was totally into it. it was like a light was turned on in everybody, and there was this general sense of YES, YES, WE LIKE LOUD(ISH) MUSIC! AND IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT! LET'S ROCK! but, as i'm sure you can guess, somebody came racing in to say AHHH!!!! QUIET! QUIET! NO LOUD(ISH) MUSIC FOR ANY OF YOU!
which was hilariously sad. i mean, the band sort of was like, uh, seriously? and the audience was like, ARE YOU KIDDING US? and the song was pretty much cut off with a, "thanks for coming and listening to our crazy-ass set that so didn't go the way we thought it would?"
it's safe to say that the husband and i were like, oh, man, these dudes must HATE us for recommending them for this gig! but of course, the duo, the aforementioned daniel and drummer chris barela, were totally gracious about it afterwards.
so, since that went horribly awry, i'm gonna recommend them here to you all. here's what you ought to know about the group: they don't completely stick to one genre, which makes them interesting to listen to. and martin has a voice that reminds me of musical theatre, all rich and deep--like you can imagine him belting out those show tunes but at the same time completely buying him in an indie band, too.
tangles , the first song i want to share with you all, is appropriately quiet. i totally dig this song. it's got this nice, muted guitar line that's reminiscent of shoe-gazing, in a way, only the song is so not shoe-gazing. what it is, though, is a sad song (and oh, how i love me the sad songs)--all achy and bittersweet, about wanting more but having to accept what you have if you want to keep it at all.
tangles of wire tying you to the floor
your tangled bracelets follow me to the door
the perfect reason, if only a reason
find you by the river, impressions in the sand
you found exactly what you always wanted
hidden in your hands
tangles of branches, lifting me to the sky
your tangled fingers touching me up so high
the perfect lover, if only a lover
find you by the river, i'm sorry that i stare
you know how to make it look so easy
it's more than i can bear
find you by the river, impressions in the sand
listen to/download the song for free below:
Tangles by The Atolls
and, of course, i must share the turn-me-up, punkish older nazi boyfriends . it's also a not-so-happy tune, about domestic violence, but day-um, is it infectious.
she said i'm only as wet as you make me
so i made her cry
she said you shouldn't break my teenage heart
you'd like her to die
but that's what you get when you mess with
older nazi boyfriends, that's what you get when you
don't shut your pretty mouth
she said i gave you everything that you wanted
so why aren't you happy now
i said no
i know that your thoughts can't turn me down
i wanted it now
but that's what you get when you mess with older
nazi boyfriends, that's what you get when you wear
your collar like a crown
but if he gave you all the thoughts that keep you
up at night, and if he said the meanest things and
didn't treat you right, then girl go get your daddy's
gun, put up a real fight, yeah!
that's what you get when you mess with younger
beat up girlfriends, that's what you get when you
beat on pretty black eyed girls
that's what you get when you mess with younger
beat up girlfriends, that's what you get when you
don't shut your fucking mouth.
Older Nazi Boyfriends by The Atolls
both of these songs are off of a self-entitled EP that you can grab for free off of the band's bandcamp site. go HERE to do so. while you're there, you can also grab their recent LP, get popular, for free, too! go HERE to get it.
August 7, 2012
new frightened rabbit!!!!!!
so, the husband just called me, instructed me to go to the hype machine, and had me search my favoritist band.
and there was a new song.
and i squee-ed, because i'm a dorky fangirl.
have a listen to state hospital , the latest by the sublime frightened rabbit . i am beyond psyched that i'll be seeing my favorite scottish boys at the troubadour this october here in la!
(apologies ahead of time if i've butchered these lyrics, which i most likely have)
the half back flip, conception
state hosptial birth
the most thread bare
tossed, only the country's ever heard
brought home
to breathe smoke in the arms of her mother
the blunt kitchen knife
who just lays, the submissive position
beneath the national weight and the slow arc of the fist
her hearts beats like a breeze block when thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was born into a grave
and in the limp, through years of bored schooling,
she's accostomed to hearing that she can never run far
a slipped disk and a spine of community
a bloody curse word, named pedestrian verse
spirits and graveyards and fingers and carparks
she cries in the high street, just to be heard
a screaming anchor, for nothing in particular,
at the foot of it, and dragging her heels in the dirt
her heart beats like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was born into a grave
cheek of youth, flashed red and turned green
now she lies in the pavement, she's helped to her feet
all flies here, and magpie handbags, sardines unified for the parade
she's brought home to keep warm
in the arms of a plumber
and he's ruddy and balding
who just need a spine to dig into
a chest through the head and a hand for the holding
her heart beats like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was, she was . . .
oh, her heart beat like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
and her skin is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was, she was . . .
a broken elevator anthem held between the floor
if blood is thicker than concrete
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
and there was a new song.
and i squee-ed, because i'm a dorky fangirl.
have a listen to state hospital , the latest by the sublime frightened rabbit . i am beyond psyched that i'll be seeing my favorite scottish boys at the troubadour this october here in la!
(apologies ahead of time if i've butchered these lyrics, which i most likely have)
the half back flip, conception
state hosptial birth
the most thread bare
tossed, only the country's ever heard
brought home
to breathe smoke in the arms of her mother
the blunt kitchen knife
who just lays, the submissive position
beneath the national weight and the slow arc of the fist
her hearts beats like a breeze block when thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was born into a grave
and in the limp, through years of bored schooling,
she's accostomed to hearing that she can never run far
a slipped disk and a spine of community
a bloody curse word, named pedestrian verse
spirits and graveyards and fingers and carparks
she cries in the high street, just to be heard
a screaming anchor, for nothing in particular,
at the foot of it, and dragging her heels in the dirt
her heart beats like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was born into a grave
cheek of youth, flashed red and turned green
now she lies in the pavement, she's helped to her feet
all flies here, and magpie handbags, sardines unified for the parade
she's brought home to keep warm
in the arms of a plumber
and he's ruddy and balding
who just need a spine to dig into
a chest through the head and a hand for the holding
her heart beats like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
her blood is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was, she was . . .
oh, her heart beat like a breeze block thrown down the stairs
and her skin is thicker than concrete
forced to be bred, she was, she was . . .
a broken elevator anthem held between the floor
if blood is thicker than concrete
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
all is not lost
July 15, 2012
amof: cover reveal! release date info! and more!
so. i have exciting news to share!
a matter of fate , the first novel of my young adult urban fantasy series, will be finally released at the end of august! and this makes me ridiculously happy, because i can hardly wait to share this story and these characters with you all.
the official blurb:
Chloe Lilywhite struggles with all the normal problems of a typical seventeen-year-old high school student. Only, Chloe isn’t a normal teenage girl. She’s a Magical, part of a secret race of beings who influences the universe. More importantly, she’s a Creator, which means Fate mapped out her destiny long ago, from her college choice, to where she will ...live, to even her job. While her friends and relatives relish their future roles, Chloe resents the lack of say in her life, especially when she learns she’s to be guarded against a vengeful group of beings bend of wiping out her kind. Their number one target? Chloe, of course.
That’s nothing compared to the boy trouble she’s gotten herself into. Because a guy she’s literally dreamed of and loved her entire life, one she never knew truly existed, shows up in her math class, and with him comes a twin brother she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.
Chloe’s once unyielding path now has a lot more choices than she ever thought possible . . .
and here's the gorgeous cover (by carly stevens):
i am so in love with this. seriously, how fabulous is it? not to mention it completely represents chloe and her story on so many levels.
the husband was kind enough to set up a facebook author page for me, on which i'll be posting information on characters (during meet me monday features), songs/videos off of my writing playlist (longtime blog readers know just how rabid i am about my tunes), and more. go HERE to check it out: https://www.facebook.com/heatherlyonsbooks
also, i have a website for the series-- world of annar . on it, you'll find the first chapter to read and an encyclopedia of terms, peoples, and places you'll find within the story.
i will have a more definitive release date to share with you all soon. you'll be able to find a matter of fate on amazon, barnes and noble, and createspace.
here's a song that got a lot of play while i wrote chloe's story: chemicals collide by cloud cult
i was out paying close attention
or was i lost inside my thoughts
these days it's hard to tell what's outside from what's in my mind
and oh god, it's beautiful
insatiable
the way our chemicals collide
i was out catching up to tomorrow
or was i caught up in the past
these days it's hard to tell what's out in front from what's behind
and oh god, it's unforgettable
unpredictable
the way our chemicals collide
i was sleeping in the lilies
or was i up all night
these days it's hard to tell what's half asleep from fully alive
we were loving like a landslide
or were we in a fight
these days it's hard to tell what's right from wrong and wrong from right
and oh god, it's beautiful
insatiable
the way our chemicals collide
and oh god, it's unforgettable
unpredictable
the way our chemicals collide
go HERE to listen to/buy music from cloud cult.
a matter of fate , the first novel of my young adult urban fantasy series, will be finally released at the end of august! and this makes me ridiculously happy, because i can hardly wait to share this story and these characters with you all.
the official blurb:
Chloe Lilywhite struggles with all the normal problems of a typical seventeen-year-old high school student. Only, Chloe isn’t a normal teenage girl. She’s a Magical, part of a secret race of beings who influences the universe. More importantly, she’s a Creator, which means Fate mapped out her destiny long ago, from her college choice, to where she will ...live, to even her job. While her friends and relatives relish their future roles, Chloe resents the lack of say in her life, especially when she learns she’s to be guarded against a vengeful group of beings bend of wiping out her kind. Their number one target? Chloe, of course.
That’s nothing compared to the boy trouble she’s gotten herself into. Because a guy she’s literally dreamed of and loved her entire life, one she never knew truly existed, shows up in her math class, and with him comes a twin brother she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.
Chloe’s once unyielding path now has a lot more choices than she ever thought possible . . .
and here's the gorgeous cover (by carly stevens):
i am so in love with this. seriously, how fabulous is it? not to mention it completely represents chloe and her story on so many levels.
the husband was kind enough to set up a facebook author page for me, on which i'll be posting information on characters (during meet me monday features), songs/videos off of my writing playlist (longtime blog readers know just how rabid i am about my tunes), and more. go HERE to check it out: https://www.facebook.com/heatherlyonsbooks
also, i have a website for the series-- world of annar . on it, you'll find the first chapter to read and an encyclopedia of terms, peoples, and places you'll find within the story.
i will have a more definitive release date to share with you all soon. you'll be able to find a matter of fate on amazon, barnes and noble, and createspace.
here's a song that got a lot of play while i wrote chloe's story: chemicals collide by cloud cult
i was out paying close attention
or was i lost inside my thoughts
these days it's hard to tell what's outside from what's in my mind
and oh god, it's beautiful
insatiable
the way our chemicals collide
i was out catching up to tomorrow
or was i caught up in the past
these days it's hard to tell what's out in front from what's behind
and oh god, it's unforgettable
unpredictable
the way our chemicals collide
i was sleeping in the lilies
or was i up all night
these days it's hard to tell what's half asleep from fully alive
we were loving like a landslide
or were we in a fight
these days it's hard to tell what's right from wrong and wrong from right
and oh god, it's beautiful
insatiable
the way our chemicals collide
and oh god, it's unforgettable
unpredictable
the way our chemicals collide
go HERE to listen to/buy music from cloud cult.
May 2, 2012
grammar nazi musings, based on recent events
so, for anybody who knows me in the smallest capacity knows that i am a grammar nazi. okay, okay . . . those who know me in the smallest capacity surely do not know this, but the point here is, i like grammar and feel like it's still relevant today. people who use poor grammar (or, heck, spell it grammer - oh, i'm such a gossip hound here, but a TEACHER I ONCE WORKED WITH actually had that word posted incorrectly on his/her wall IN THEIR CLASSROOM) grate on my nerves.
i'm sure you've seen it, too. people who write, "your the best." or perhaps, "their such nice guys." or any of the kabillion things we are taught IN GRADE SCHOOL.
speaking of . . .
i got a note from my kids' school yesterday, asking whether or not we were coming back in the fall. it's a standard note, one that helps schools predict enrollment. now, on this sheet of paper, there were three lines provided to write names; above those lines read: STUDENT'S NAMES.
friends.
oh, friends.
i was . . . (shhh) HORRIFIED. i know this probably wouldn't be the first reaction any of you would have, but when i saw that, i couldn't help but think to myself, "i send my kids to this school, to be educated, and whoever is sending out the memos can't even understand how possessive punctuation works?" i mean, this is what is taught IN GRADE SCHOOL. my kids GO TO GRADE SCHOOL. the people in charge of the school DO NOT KNOW THE THINGS THEY TEACH, or, perhaps even worse, DON'T CARE IF THEY USE IT PROPERLY IN OFFICIAL COMMUNICATIONS.
so i've debated with myself. do i turn the piece of paper in, edited? i know (having worked in education) that these are often forms used year after year. do i ignore it? see, it's hard to ignore such stuff, when it's done professionally. it is expected that businesses, no matter what kind, adhere to certain expectations. proper grammar (and spelling) are included in such expectations.
so, yeah. i'm going to talk to someone in the office and kindly point out the error.
also, i've been reading a lot of indie books lately in an effort to see what's good, what's bad, and what's working out there in the publishing world. specifically, i've been reading multiple indie series as i'm set to release one of my own soon. here's what i can tell you, as a reader, what works for me (in terms of indie books): proper editing and grammar.
there is this one series i've been reading (and no, i won't name names) that has a really fab plot line. the world building is excellent. the characters are fairly well developed (although, i'll admit to wanting to slap the protag a few times out of sheer annoyance) and show growth across the series. but . . . the author did very little editing (or, at least i'm assuming it was editing and not sheer ignorance of the english language). there were errors riddling the book. sentences were often poorly constructed, and punctuation was horrendous (and very often misused). and while i devoured the books solely based on the positive attributes listed above, i don't know if i'd actually recommend them to anyone. i feel torn, because i liked them. i genuinely did. but at the same time, i don't respect them.
if that makes sense?
it also makes me want to ensure that, thanks to actually hiring editors, i significantly lessen the opportunity for anybody to ever think this about my work.
it worries me that i hear/read more and more often that grammar isn't relevant anymore. a lot of people use the excuse that, thanks to technology and social media, there isn't a need for it. that things such as texting and instant messaging have made misspellings and incorrect grammar usage acceptable by societal norms. (i should note that i absolute refuse to ever type the word "you" as "u" and "your" as "ur" or any of those other text abbreviations; i mean, c'mon, is it REALLY THAT HARD TO TYPE OUT THREE LETTERS for "you?" it even bugs the crap out of me when artists such as prince do this. yes, even him. but i digress.) the husband, who used to teach high school, told me that he'd get essays turned in with such errors, and that the kids didn't know what they did was wrong.
as a writer, this makes me sad.
there is such a thing as stylistic writing. obviously, you can see that i utilize this, what with my lack of capital letters within this blog (and no--my books never are written in this style). but, i respect grammar. follow it. and wish more people did the same.
/end babblish, meandering (and hopefully grammatically correct) rant
/also wondering if i should have done the same as the following meme?
i'm sure you've seen it, too. people who write, "your the best." or perhaps, "their such nice guys." or any of the kabillion things we are taught IN GRADE SCHOOL.
speaking of . . .
i got a note from my kids' school yesterday, asking whether or not we were coming back in the fall. it's a standard note, one that helps schools predict enrollment. now, on this sheet of paper, there were three lines provided to write names; above those lines read: STUDENT'S NAMES.
friends.
oh, friends.
i was . . . (shhh) HORRIFIED. i know this probably wouldn't be the first reaction any of you would have, but when i saw that, i couldn't help but think to myself, "i send my kids to this school, to be educated, and whoever is sending out the memos can't even understand how possessive punctuation works?" i mean, this is what is taught IN GRADE SCHOOL. my kids GO TO GRADE SCHOOL. the people in charge of the school DO NOT KNOW THE THINGS THEY TEACH, or, perhaps even worse, DON'T CARE IF THEY USE IT PROPERLY IN OFFICIAL COMMUNICATIONS.
so i've debated with myself. do i turn the piece of paper in, edited? i know (having worked in education) that these are often forms used year after year. do i ignore it? see, it's hard to ignore such stuff, when it's done professionally. it is expected that businesses, no matter what kind, adhere to certain expectations. proper grammar (and spelling) are included in such expectations.
so, yeah. i'm going to talk to someone in the office and kindly point out the error.
also, i've been reading a lot of indie books lately in an effort to see what's good, what's bad, and what's working out there in the publishing world. specifically, i've been reading multiple indie series as i'm set to release one of my own soon. here's what i can tell you, as a reader, what works for me (in terms of indie books): proper editing and grammar.
there is this one series i've been reading (and no, i won't name names) that has a really fab plot line. the world building is excellent. the characters are fairly well developed (although, i'll admit to wanting to slap the protag a few times out of sheer annoyance) and show growth across the series. but . . . the author did very little editing (or, at least i'm assuming it was editing and not sheer ignorance of the english language). there were errors riddling the book. sentences were often poorly constructed, and punctuation was horrendous (and very often misused). and while i devoured the books solely based on the positive attributes listed above, i don't know if i'd actually recommend them to anyone. i feel torn, because i liked them. i genuinely did. but at the same time, i don't respect them.
if that makes sense?
it also makes me want to ensure that, thanks to actually hiring editors, i significantly lessen the opportunity for anybody to ever think this about my work.
it worries me that i hear/read more and more often that grammar isn't relevant anymore. a lot of people use the excuse that, thanks to technology and social media, there isn't a need for it. that things such as texting and instant messaging have made misspellings and incorrect grammar usage acceptable by societal norms. (i should note that i absolute refuse to ever type the word "you" as "u" and "your" as "ur" or any of those other text abbreviations; i mean, c'mon, is it REALLY THAT HARD TO TYPE OUT THREE LETTERS for "you?" it even bugs the crap out of me when artists such as prince do this. yes, even him. but i digress.) the husband, who used to teach high school, told me that he'd get essays turned in with such errors, and that the kids didn't know what they did was wrong.
as a writer, this makes me sad.
there is such a thing as stylistic writing. obviously, you can see that i utilize this, what with my lack of capital letters within this blog (and no--my books never are written in this style). but, i respect grammar. follow it. and wish more people did the same.
/end babblish, meandering (and hopefully grammatically correct) rant
/also wondering if i should have done the same as the following meme?
April 16, 2012
book of james by we are augustines
(warning: this post is caps heavy.)
so, i have been obsessed--friends, OBSESSED--with we are augustines for the last couple months. i have the steadily developed crushes on one song after another off of their album rise ye sunken ships . anytime somebody asks me, "anybody worth checking out?" i immediately come back with, "OMG, THERE'S THIS BAND CALLED WE ARE AUGUSTINES AND OMG THEY ARE SO GOOD AND OMG, THEIR MUSIC--THEIR MUSIC!!--YOU. MUST. LISTEN!!"
and then i realized, i hadn't yet said those words to you guys, my dear readers.
so, in case you haven't heard, OMG, MUSIC FRIENDS, THERE'S THIS BAND CALLED WE ARE AUGUSTINES AND OMG THEY ARE SO GOOD AND OMG, THEIR MUSIC--THEIR MUSIC!--YOU. MUST. LISTEN!!
you think i kid.
okay, today i'll give you my latest song crush by this great three-piece from brooklyn: book of james . and it's a doozy, friends. while catchy, it's really an ode to guitarist and song writer billy mccarthy's brother who committed suicide after a lengthy struggle with mental illness. oh, doesn't that just fit right in with my ever-lasting attraction to sad songs? but see, this one doesn't sound sad, despite gorgeous, heart-wrenching lyrics. it sounds so . . . springsteen-ish. and that only makes me love it more.
on a related note, i JUST NOW DISCOVERED they're performing in LA TONIGHT!! ARGH!
on a park bench sat a crimson beating heart
and behind him the girls played double dutch in the park
the sun began to burn his snow white skin
i guess you're either headin' somewhere or endin' up somewhere...
storm clouds began to form in his head
and crisscrossed his mind like a restless angry ocean
and the howling of hardship and heartache
kneeled and grinned in his face
he stood there in his boots unable to move
and i came here to tell you that i love you
and here lies, my green eyes
rolled back in my head, but they're alive
and all these words can all get spoken
just know we tried
and you're forgiven
he made his way down the boulevard
near the 99 cent stores and garbage in the yards
and he began sing
about the crickets and the backroads where we used to play
i guess your either headin' somewhere or endin' up somewhere...
cause i tried the bible, tried the bottle, tried the needle, tried to
love people
and in the end, there ain't much to say
and in the end, there ain't much to say, anyway
and i stand here in my shoes, unable to move
my hat in my hands, at the bottom of the ocean.
and here lies, my green eyes
rolled back in my head, but they're alive
and all the words can all get spoken
just know we tried
and you're forgiven
you're forgiven
go HERE to by rise ye sunken ships , the album book of james is off of. be prepared to put it on heavy rotation as you crush on each song.
so, i have been obsessed--friends, OBSESSED--with we are augustines for the last couple months. i have the steadily developed crushes on one song after another off of their album rise ye sunken ships . anytime somebody asks me, "anybody worth checking out?" i immediately come back with, "OMG, THERE'S THIS BAND CALLED WE ARE AUGUSTINES AND OMG THEY ARE SO GOOD AND OMG, THEIR MUSIC--THEIR MUSIC!!--YOU. MUST. LISTEN!!"
and then i realized, i hadn't yet said those words to you guys, my dear readers.
so, in case you haven't heard, OMG, MUSIC FRIENDS, THERE'S THIS BAND CALLED WE ARE AUGUSTINES AND OMG THEY ARE SO GOOD AND OMG, THEIR MUSIC--THEIR MUSIC!--YOU. MUST. LISTEN!!
you think i kid.
okay, today i'll give you my latest song crush by this great three-piece from brooklyn: book of james . and it's a doozy, friends. while catchy, it's really an ode to guitarist and song writer billy mccarthy's brother who committed suicide after a lengthy struggle with mental illness. oh, doesn't that just fit right in with my ever-lasting attraction to sad songs? but see, this one doesn't sound sad, despite gorgeous, heart-wrenching lyrics. it sounds so . . . springsteen-ish. and that only makes me love it more.
on a related note, i JUST NOW DISCOVERED they're performing in LA TONIGHT!! ARGH!
on a park bench sat a crimson beating heart
and behind him the girls played double dutch in the park
the sun began to burn his snow white skin
i guess you're either headin' somewhere or endin' up somewhere...
storm clouds began to form in his head
and crisscrossed his mind like a restless angry ocean
and the howling of hardship and heartache
kneeled and grinned in his face
he stood there in his boots unable to move
and i came here to tell you that i love you
and here lies, my green eyes
rolled back in my head, but they're alive
and all these words can all get spoken
just know we tried
and you're forgiven
he made his way down the boulevard
near the 99 cent stores and garbage in the yards
and he began sing
about the crickets and the backroads where we used to play
i guess your either headin' somewhere or endin' up somewhere...
cause i tried the bible, tried the bottle, tried the needle, tried to
love people
and in the end, there ain't much to say
and in the end, there ain't much to say, anyway
and i stand here in my shoes, unable to move
my hat in my hands, at the bottom of the ocean.
and here lies, my green eyes
rolled back in my head, but they're alive
and all the words can all get spoken
just know we tried
and you're forgiven
you're forgiven
go HERE to by rise ye sunken ships , the album book of james is off of. be prepared to put it on heavy rotation as you crush on each song.
April 9, 2012
words by doves
so, a quickie for today - a song that i inevitably will put on repeat with the volume up high anytime it comes up on the ol' ipod.
'cause, c'mon. who doesn't love some xylophone?
serious swoonage goes out to the guitar lines here, too.
'cause, c'mon. who doesn't love some xylophone?
serious swoonage goes out to the guitar lines here, too.
