Reading Last Night at the Main House

When Lise-Ann McLoughlin, an Irish actress and screenplay writer, reads your words aloud and you become a puddle on the floor.

From “The Rorqual,” self’s horror story-in-progress, set in the Bering Sea:

A large shelf of ice had just dislodged — calved — the day before in Hobart Bay. The sea water had risen by several feet. The immensity of the sound — a low thunder that cascaded off the sides of the snow-capped mountains — was deeply unsettling. Here and there, by the water’s edge, were tussocks of green on which grey tippled seals crowded, blunt snouts raised high in the air.

Despair gripped her.

“Can they replace him with a pagophilic?” the Captain asked.

Tamara bit her lip. “I won’t have a pagophilic. I’d sooner kill them than look at them. They murdered all my children but one. And all the people of the Black Hills.”

NOTE: Self invented this creature, the pagophilic. Somewhere in her story is the dictionary definition. But, the short answer: Pagophilics are mutants developed by the U.S. Navy in a top-secret (naturally) facility somewhere north. Something went wrong with the experiments, and the program was discontinued. A few of the pagos managed to escape and are roaming the northern wilds.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

#amwritinghorror about a Small Queen

  • The Small Queen’s face and hands were white as snow. But her blood was a deep red. Deeper than the red of the reddest flame. It hurt Tamara to think. The Small Queen was scarcely eighteen years.

NOTE: The Small Queen leads her tribe in battle against the Longnecks.

On the Ship Mohenjo Daro, Floating In Outer Space

#amwritingspacefantasy #amwritingshortstory #workinprogress

  • I fall asleep. Right in the middle of something. I want it so much. It’s the only time I see Her.

Work-In-Progress: Memory (II)

Feeling discouraged about the novel-in-progress at the moment. It turned out a bit too much for self to chew. She should have known . . .

Stuck at 266 pages. All day.

In the meantime, she’s going back to some old short stories. Ones she’s forgotten about and stopped sending out, for years.

Here is the continuation of the story about the woman who stole her mother’s Chopard earrings:

I was going to do something, but I didn’t know what. I felt brave. I felt I would never fail, as long as I had the earrings with me.

I sewed them into a little pouch on the inside of the waistband of my jeans, and I wore just the one pair of jeans, day in and day out. They were soft and loose, ripped at the knees.

I didn’t have to pretend: I was what I was. I was crazy. I was living.

Stay tuned.

 

Work-In-Progress: Memory

After I had stolen my mother’s Chopard diamond earrings, the ones my father had given her for their 20th wedding anniversary, I didn’t know what to do. I ended up far from home, on an island clear across the ocean. I found a thatched hut on a narrow beach. Every morning, I heard fishermen pull their boats up on the shore. People would appear and haggle over fish with snub heads, and fish shaped like half-moons and long, silvery fish that looked like sardines, only 10 times bigger.

I was going to do something, but I didn’t know what. I felt brave.

Funny Scene, Transporter 2118: #work-in-progress #fantasy #dystopia #thefutureIthink

“I think I’m gorgeous,” she said. You do not have any idea how that sounds in hard, clipped Mandarin. Until you hear it.

She continued, “You’re probably thinking: Why couldn’t I have a transport in Tonga? Islands, humpback whales, warmth.”

I gaped. I had actually just been thinking: Islands, humpback whales, warmth.


Stay tuned.

#amwritinghorror #amwritingdystopia: “The Rorqual”

Setting: the Bering Sea

Length (so far): 27 pages

A week later, a fight broke out between two of the men. Wolfe broke it up, but not before one of the men received a scalp laceration so severe it needed sutures. Wolfe was careless enough to leave his logbook open on his desk one day, when Joshua arrived for an appointment.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Announcing Bellingham Review’s 7th Annual On-line Issue

The story Bellingham Review published, “Ice,” is part of a dystopian fantasy series.

Read it here.

DSCN0110

Cottage # 2, Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig: November 2017

 

 

#amreading #amwritingfantasy: Inspired by Ian McEwan’s SATURDAY

The first time self read Saturday, by Ian McEwan, was in 2009. She only knows for sure because she did a Search on this blog. And up it popped, complete with spoilers.

But, since she believes she has more time to appreciate reading while she’s in Ireland, she’s going to give Saturday another go.

Amazing how ‘interior’ it is. Also amazing: that it’s about a surgeon. And she just got through reading Do No Harm, by neurosurgeon Henry Marsh. She swears, that’s just coincidence.

What Saturday‘s already succeeded in doing, even though self is only a few pages in: it’s gotten her to add a few more lines to the story she began three days ago, after arriving at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Annaghmakerrig. Working title: Transporter 2118

“As a matter of fact . . . ” I thought, but why mince words when she could read minds.

Tu-an Ju rose from the bed.

Oh. I didn’t realize she was that tall.

Looks like the transporter might have a problem.

lol

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

#amwritinghorror: “The Rorqual”

Setting: the far north, near the Bering Sea

Joshua and his team had spent the last two months in the Baltra Valley. It was rough, tussocky ground, speckled with huge, granite boulders. When his team first arrived, they made a talley:

Arctic foxes: 5

Terns: 23

Plovers: 51

Snow geese: 62

Now, in the fading twilight, 63 days in, he heard not a sound, saw not one bird: there were only shadows, moving across the ground too rapidly to be identified.

He decided it might be useful to time these flitting shadows.

They tended to increase in frequency towards the end of the day, so this was when he set out.

Time: less than a minute between shadows. Thirty seconds. 15 seconds.

It occurred to Joshua that they might be hunting. What was their prey?

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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