Q&A with Josh Lanyon discussion
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Oct 31, 2016 01:22PM
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Wet feet squelched across the bathroom floor and stopped directly below. I peered down through the jagged triangular hole that was threatening to chop off my left leg at the knee. Cara—my sister—scowled up at me, mascara streaked down her wet face, black hair dripping and bedraggled, a macabre bathroom banshee wrapped in a big pink fluffy towel.
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YAY for our first brave contributor.
I love the action and energy here!
Thanks. :) I won't lie - I checked the thread several times hoping someone else would take the plunge and then thought what the hell. If I can handle tiny people in scary masks for an evening... (OK, I didn't do that, but still. I would have.)
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LOL
For a second I thought about sharing some lines of my translation ;-), which will be quite public because it concerns an application for a website. Still, no way: it would be a breach of confidentiality.
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:-D
Antonella wrote: "For a second I thought about sharing some lines of my translation ;-), which will be quite public because it concerns an application for a website. Still, no way: it would be a breach of confidenti..."Great minds and all that... I was thinking about sharing some of my more technical blog posts too... :-D That would have been a change of pace. ;-)
Debbie wrote: "Wet feet squelched across the bathroom floor and stopped directly below. I peered down through the jagged triangular hole that was threatening to chop off my left leg at the knee. Cara—my sister—sc..."The description of Cara is very vivid. Love it! :)
Sara wrote: "The description of Cara is very vivid. Love it! :) ."Thanks, Sara. :) She's the MC's older sister, and she hasn't got much on-page time, but I think I may have to rectify that in the second draft.
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There HAS to be a way to make that funny -- turn it into a description of love-making! :-D
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Absolutely! That would be great!
Josh wrote: "Calathea wrote: "Antonella wrote: "For a second I thought about sharing some lines of my translation ;-), which will be quite public because it concerns an application for a website. Still, no way:..."Thinking of it, that is actually quite funny...,seeing as the last one was on a decision of the European Court of Justice on the use of hyperlinks, involving photos that were supposed to be published exclusively in Playboy.
Um.
Well, it looked funny when I started writing this sentence. ;-)
Calathea wrote: "Thinking of it, that is actually quite funny...,seeing as the last one was on a decision of the European Court of Justice on the use of hyperlinks, involving photos that were supposed to be published exclusively in Playboy.Um.
Well, it looked funny when I started writing this sentence. ;-) "
:D
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Yes. That has humor written all over it! :-P
Before I could open my mouth to give a warning shout, a soft whoomph spread through the room. Blue and white flames exploded through the room, dancing tendrils and wisps reaching towards me in slow motion. A soft cry left my lips when a hand reached out and shook me.I shot out of the bath water. Gasping and coughing violently, I looked around. The lights were off and my mom stood over me.
Victoria wrote: "Before I could open my mouth to give a warning shout, a soft whoomph spread through the room. Blue and white flames exploded through the room, dancing tendrils and wisps reaching towards me in slow..."Oh? Is everyone fine?
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Oh! How intriguing!
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Prologue
Warm lips moving on mine, passionately, insistently.
I knew those lips. I knew that kiss.
Isaac…
Moist breath pushing into my mouth, filling my lungs.
Inhale.
Exhale.
We breathed in unison. Quiet. Intimate. Yes.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Isaac, I love you. I really do. I really, really…
From down a long tunnel a voice said, “He’s breathing on his own, Chief.”
And I’m really, truly sorry…
Inhale.
Exhale.
And from now on—
Waaaait a minute.
Chief?
That wasn’t right. I wanted Issac not Chief.
“Chief?” Once more the word echoed down the long, empty corridors. “Chief?”
I murmured protest. The mouth fervently pressing mine withdrew.
I unstuck my eyelids, stared dazedly up. Bits of black floated in the evening air. Red embers drifted down like glowing snowflakes. In front of a kaleidoscope of ragged black-edged treetops, was a ring of grim faces gazing down at me--and the grimmest face of all was that of Police Chief Ramsay. I thought I could see tiny twin flames dancing in his eyes.
I unstuck my lips. I’m not sure what I wanted to say. Sorry?
I probably owed him a sorry or two.
In the distance came an alarming tearing-away sort of sound. The cops all turned to watch in silence as my neighbor Dick Chekhov’s plastic Santa—still sitting in its red plastic sleigh--plummeted in flames from his rooftop.
As Santa’s sleigh crunched nose first in the frosty grass, Issac swung back to me.
“Goddamn it, Merle,” he roared. “What did I say? What did I tell you? I’m done warning you. This time I’m throwing your ass in jail.”
I tried to sit up. “On what charges?”
“Malfeasance. Obstruction of justice. How about that? Interfering with a police investigation. That’s a good one. Conducting business without a license. Disturbing the peace. Public nuisance. How about menace to society? That fits. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something. There won’t be any shortage of charges when I get done with you…”
Oh, wow, that is quite the big bang for a bit of prologue! Colour me intrigued... ;-)
Lovely, thank you! I'm looking forward to read it.But will the other MC be called Isaac or Issac? Both names are in use, at the moment they appear two times each ;-).
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Prologue
Warm lips moving on mine, passionately, insistently.
I knew those lips. I knew that kiss.
Isaac…..."
Yeah, I'll second Calathea's Oh WOW... but I'll add the caps... that's amazing...
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The title THE BOY NEXT DOOR sounds appropriately cosy and intriguing. :-)
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But will the other MC be called Isaac or Issac? Both names are in use, at the moment they appear two times each ;-)."
I keep spelling it wrong. I have to remember to keep spell-checking it. :-D OR MAYBE IT'S HIS TWIN BROTHER.
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The title THE BOY NEXT DOOR sounds appropriately cosy and intriguing. :-)"
It's set at Christmas time but I'm not sure how Christmassy it will be in the end. :-D
Forgot all about this thread until Josh posted recently. Here's the start of my new Christmas story, Calamine & Christmas Cake.“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done to yourself?”
The shrill words tugged me from a troubled sleep, reverberating around my head despite the fact that my skull seemed to be stuffed with cotton wool.
Had I drunk that much last night? I felt as groggy as hell. I searched through clouded memories, but I could only recall a bottle of Peroni, left mostly untouched beside a half-eaten dinner.
“Glenn, I’m talking to you.”
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“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done to yourself?”
Th..."
Ooohh, this is a great beginning!
Jordan wrote: "Lillian wrote: "Forgot all about this thread until Josh posted recently. Here's the start of my new Christmas story, Calamine & Christmas Cake.“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done t..."
Thanks. I'm so pleased I managed to get it published in time for this Christmas. I'd have been gutted if I'd had to sit on it a year to make it relevant again :D
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“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done to yourself?”
Th..."
Oh! Great hook in that beginning.
Josh wrote: "Lillian wrote: "Forgot all about this thread until Josh posted recently. Here's the start of my new Christmas story, Calamine & Christmas Cake.“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done t..."
Ta! I'm getting some good initial reviews, sk I must have done something right. 😁
Josh wrote: "Here's a bit from a weird little side project. A short story called THE BOY NEXT DOOR.Prologue
Warm lips moving on mine, passionately, insistently.
I knew those lips. I knew that kiss.
Isaac…..."
And another wow from me! I had to go back to the beginning and read it again because I was imagining something much different. As was your intention, of course :D
Lillian wrote: "Forgot all about this thread until Josh posted recently. Here's the start of my new Christmas story, Calamine & Christmas Cake.“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done to yourself?”
Th..."
Uh oh. What has he done to himself, I wonder?
Sara wrote: "Lillian wrote: "Forgot all about this thread until Josh posted recently. Here's the start of my new Christmas story, Calamine & Christmas Cake.“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck have you done t..."
Clue's in the title ;)
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“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the fuck ha..."
I read this one along with a flurry of holiday stories over the past two weeks. It was lovely, Lillian. It was one of those that stuck out — that's a good thing when we're talking about the plethora of seasonal stories. :)
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Prologue
Warm lips moving on mine, passionately, insistently.
I knew those lips. I knew that k..."
Loved this story! It's so beautifully constructed, and clever, and fun.
Is this still active? and no, this is not my WIP.
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LOL, Idrissa. Yes, this is still active even though it's been a while since the latest post... :-)
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Nick was expecting…oh hell, maybe another appearance by the Over-The-Hill-And-Then-Some gang? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t fail to note that by the second scream, there was a note of outrage amid all the blood curdling. Working at catching cheating spouses mid-act had given Nick great familiarity with outraged females, and he was familiar with that particular decibel.
So as he skidded around the corner—despite the lack of regular mopping, the marble floors were slipperier than glass—he was not anticipating having to pull his weapon. Until he saw the alligator.
Yeah. A thirteen-foot alligator was trying to cram through the scratched and battered door to one of the apartments. The woman struggling to get the door shut was still screaming, but there were words now—plenty of them.
“Goddamn it, Enzo! Wally’s inside again!” she shrieked. “Enzo? Anybody? Can anybody hear me?”
Yes, people heard her. And if they missed her screams, they could hardly miss the ungodly noise the gator was making—a rumbling roar that sounded more big cat than reptilian. A door at the opposite end of the hall flew open, and a woman with a green and purple bush on her head—that couldn’t be hair, could it?—stuck her head out and then immediately slammed shut her door again. Gee, it was almost like old times at the Alston Estate.
The door opposite the bush lady flew open, and a guy around Nick’s age burst out and stumbled toward the alligator, adding his yells to the general pandemonium. “Enzo! Enzo! The fucking lizard’s out again. In again. The alligator’s inside!”
Nick slid to a stop, raising his weapon.
“No! No! Christ, don’t shoot it! Don’t shoot!” That was Juri, who had followed Nick and Perry from the foyer.
Perry panted, “Nick, don’t shoot. It’s a pet.”
“A pet?” Nick threw him a quick, disbelieving look.
Perry nodded quickly.
Juri was still pleading. “Don’t shoot Wally. Please. He’s not dangerous.”
“The hell he’s not dangerous,” yelled the younger man from down the hall. He had blue-black eyes, long dark hair, and one of those unfortunate beards that were supposed to look cool—assuming your idea of style was Moses or elderly hillbillies.
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So long as it's a snippet by a member of the group, sneak peeks are welcome.
Oh god that was great! Can't wait for the whole thing now :)!
I left without looking back. Tears threatened to spill over. What was going on? Why was my existence suddenly coming undone? I remained stoic, walking unseeingly until I bumped into a student. I startled and looked up.‘Are you ok?’ she asked.
To her horror, I burst into tears.
The kind stranger wrapped her hands around my shoulder.
‘Shhhh,’ she crooned.
She came beside me and guided me- somewhere. All I witnessed was the ground moving. Like my head was on a levitating conveyor belt. I was buried in a stranger’s warm flank. It smelled amazing there. Reminding me of apples and spilled wine.
The ground got my attention again when paved slabs gave way to a gravel path. We were walking downhill. Wait, where were we going? I lifted my head and stopped. A few more steps and we would be at the teachers’ quarters.
I turned to my new friend. She was watching me, her arm still around my shoulder. I stepped away from her.
Her beauty threw me. The afternoon tea sun hit her face just right- a perfect set up for a glam mag photoshoot. She had relaxed coal black hair that whipped lightly around her face. It must have taken lessons from Disney’s Pocahontas. She had warm onyx eyes, a cute button nose and lips that must have led to the invention of lip gloss. She was dressed in a Blue House team t-shirt and the school’s orange skorts. They were meant to be hideous but on her they weren’t. Like a Rihanna effect.
‘Are you ok?’ she asked into the silence.
Even her voice was beautiful. I sniffled. Fuck, I must look a mess. I tried to wipe my face with my hands but met something wet. And sticky. And ew. I turned and lifted my shirt to my face. She came closer. Her fingers grazed my exposed skin.
I jumped, yelping. I turned and shoved my shirt down. She startled and held her palms out in the universal ‘I mean no harm’ sign. God, could this day get any weirder?
‘Sorry, that was rude,’ I said, ‘I’m Ng’esh.’
My hand dangled awkwardly between us. She took it and wrapped it with her other hand. She had an amused smile on her face. It looked good enough to taste. Wait, what?
‘My name’s Usha. And I know who you are.’
Her thumb rubbed against the back of my hand. Goosebumps sprouted all over me. My temperature rocketed. I yanked my hand from her grasp. We remained quiet again. She just kept watching me with that smile. Was that how the snake looked to Eve?
‘Wh… what do you mean you know me? I’ve never seen you before.’ Really Ng’esh?
‘I’m not surprised. You joined last year, right? And every time I see you, you’re always reading or you’re staring at nothing.’
What reputation did I have in this school?
‘What?’ Ah, eloquence my old friend.
‘Yeah, you’re always staring at something or other. Like those granddads who keep staring at fires and sunsets.
The memory of Victoria’s stunt came rushing back. She’d humiliated me in front of the entire school. I felt overwhelmed with some unnamed emotion. I didn’t know whether to scream or burst into tears again. I needed to get away from Usha.
‘Thanks… for… yeah.’
I turned to head back to the classrooms.
‘You looked like you needed to get away,’ she said. I stopped. She came closer again.
‘You look like you still do. Come on.’
Usha turned to leave, gesturing for me to follow. I remained still. What was the protocol for these kinds of situations? I looked around for an answer. Eucalyptus trees along the border of the school swayed in the wind. Mocking me with their creaks barely an octave over the din of the countryside. A dog barked in the distance. Some sheep bleated and a cow mooed. All of them not giving me any answers.
Usha looked back, ‘Come on.’ She smiled.
Damn that smile.
What did I know anyway? Lao Tzu said change shouldn’t be resisted. I didn’t need that kind of sorrow in my life. I decided to follow her.
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:-D
Thank you, Goge!
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A lot of emotion packed in there. Thank you for sharing!
Josh wrote: "Idrissa wrote: "I left without looking back. Tears threatened to spill over. What was going on? Why was my existence suddenly coming undone? I remained stoic, walking unseeingly until I bumped into..."is... is that a good thing?
WWII. Submarines. Romance. Throw in a traitor. Anyone fancy a snippet of that?
“I know it has been over a decade since you’ve needed me in an official capacity, but I like to think your father named me as your guardian for a reason, Zachary.” Charles scrubbed a hand over his short hair, the act ruffling strands normally darkened to the colour of autumn leaves by Brylcreem. Grey hair, which had previously only peppered his temples, showed in abundance amongst the auburn. Clearly visible now Zach chose to look; a reminder of the age difference between them. Right now, slumped behind his desk, Charles looked every one of those nineteen years older. All because of Zach.“You were friends, his best friend,” Zach said. He liked to think he’d earned Charles’s friendship on his own merit, but even at thirty-three Zach couldn’t be certain the camaraderie they shared had its own basis or was simply the result of the promise Charles had made to his father.
In the fifteen years since his father’s death Charles had always been there; mentor, protector, friend. At one point, in his early twenties, Zach wanted to add lover to that list but hadn’t had the nerve to take the risk. Not through fear of jail or isolation. Zach’s family had sufficient money to make both a distant threat and even back then he had enough audacity to laugh off the consequences of unwanted advances. However, the thought of pushing away the man who had been the major force behind Zach’s decision to follow his father into the Navy, who had guided him through the maze of bereavement, who had given Zach a focus for his confusion about his sexual preferences, albeit unwittingly, well, the thought of risking that had been too great.
Zach had put those early feelings, long gone, down to the insatiable urges of youth and idolisation. Fondness and an intensely loyal friendship had replaced desire as Zach had found his pleasure in other beds. Rarely the same bed. Which brought him back to the situation at hand. He focused on his superior officer—not friend, not in this office—intently.
“Well, of course, because we were friends, but your father had plenty of friends in the forces and in society who appeared better qualified to take on the role. You were already old enough to look after yourself, if not legally entitled to your inheritance. I believe your father wanted me to be a mentor, to provide you with a moral compass.”
A snort escaped Zach completely against his will.
“I’m well aware I have failed dramatically in that regard.” Charles sighed. “Your father knew the reason why I never married, beyond the excuse that my career came first. He once told me he appreciated my dignified acceptance of my preferences, and implied I could teach you the same tolerance and discretion, if necessary.”
That took the wind out of Zach’s sails. “My father knew—”
“He suspected we might be kindred spirits.” Charles cut off Zach’s admission, his gaze sliding over Zach’s shoulder to the closed door of his office. “You need to learn to be more circumspect. I appreciate you take your pleasure where you can find it. With whoever appeals to you. A product of the jazz age I suspect. Your father and I fought a war so you would have the freedom to break the law in such a way.” Charles shook his head. “I must confess I never expected to have to do so again, but there you are.”
“We’re not at war,” Zach said, mainly to appease his friend. The moment America joined the Allies with the war effort Zach would be there. The only reason he’d yet to volunteer for an overseas service was because, with an ailing mother and his sister heavily pregnant, he didn’t want to be too far from home.
“Officially, no, not yet. Anyway, we are getting off topic. The subject at hand is your discretion or the lack of it. Your reputation as a Lothario and Jack the Lad is legendary,” Charles cast a disparaging—or was that disappointed—glance in Zach’s direction, “although I suspect greatly exaggerated. If that is your intention, to create such a persona to disguise your true nature, why sabotage yourself?”
Resisting the urge to squirm in his seat, Zach felt as if he’d been stripped naked, as Charles managed to tear away years of deflection and disguise with one well-constructed sentence and a disapproving glare.
“Nothing to say, Lieutenant Commander?”
Damn, he felt like a rookie again. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth making speech impossible even if he’d known what Charles wanted him to say.
“Sorry, Ch—sir. You’re right, it was stupid. I was stupid. It’s not like I’m even attracted to him.”
“Hellfire, Zachary!” Charles’s fist slammed into the desk, making Zach jump. “Shut the hell up!”
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