My latest tale 'Softly' on Thrillers Killers n Chillers is being called 'sick'. I couldn't wish for a better accolade.
Why not take a look? I'd probably recommend not having your dinner while your read it.
Excerpt:
‘He just, sort of crawled off me. I tried to talk to him but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t even look at me, he just ran down the hall to the bathroom where I could hear him chucking his guts up over and over again.’
That's all you get - any more would give it away.
Horror, crime and dark fiction.
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Magenta Shaman
Magenta Shaman wasn't shortlisted for the Aeon Award.
Oh well, it's been one of those weeks. I believe in her anyway. :(
Oh well, it's been one of those weeks. I believe in her anyway. :(
Thursday, 10 December 2009
New Lily Childs story 'Face Off' and welcome to new horror E-Zine
Thanks to Coly Bury for publishing my latest short story, Face Off, over at Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers.
Excerpt:
I keep it in a bag, my face. It hides there of a night when I slumber and dream.
I pull my hair back and look at the bare-faced lie reflected back at me in the mirror. A blank canvas. I could do anything with it. I could be anyone.
But I want to be me. I’ve always wanted to be me, not her.
The ritual begins.
Very pleased to hear about T R Shaw's new horror e-zine for women writers 'A Darker Spirit'. It's a brilliant initiative, and I wish her every success with it.
Excerpt:
I keep it in a bag, my face. It hides there of a night when I slumber and dream.
I pull my hair back and look at the bare-faced lie reflected back at me in the mirror. A blank canvas. I could do anything with it. I could be anyone.
But I want to be me. I’ve always wanted to be me, not her.
The ritual begins.
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Very pleased to hear about T R Shaw's new horror e-zine for women writers 'A Darker Spirit'. It's a brilliant initiative, and I wish her every success with it.
Hope to submit some pieces myself!
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Can I Get A Witness?
Somebody, somewhere; tell me this ain’t fair but it seems to me that what you write in a song has a nasty way of turning into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Take it from me, Kurt Cobain did have a gun – denying it even as he sang Come As You Are. Amy? Well… Rehab was just waiting with open doors.
I sat there, thinking about the late, great Marvin Gaye; his smooth moves, his velvet voice - begging for a witness. When his own father blasted him away, no-one saw a thing, ‘xcept Mama.
The pen twitched in my hand. Sod it. I wrote it down anyway.
“She wouldn’t tell me what they’d said.
‘You lied’ she cried.
She slammed the hilt against my head.
‘I tried’ I lied.
She shot me dead.”
Clare stood at the kitchen door, moist mascara blackening beneath sad eyes. The pistol in her snowy-white hand didn’t surprise me. I knew she hated my lazy, cheating arse.
I stood, and shrugged. What was there to say? The lyrics fell from my lap to the floor. I took a step towards her, not bothering to say sorry.
You know the rest…
This story was the winner of the November 2009 'One Word Challenge' from Writing Magazine's online forum 'Talkback.'
Writers are given a single word and must produce a piece of flash fiction in 200 words or less, or a poem in 40 lines or less. November's word was 'Witness.'
You can see my poetry entry at http://micheleranger.blogspot.com/2009/12/who-sees.html
Take it from me, Kurt Cobain did have a gun – denying it even as he sang Come As You Are. Amy? Well… Rehab was just waiting with open doors.
I sat there, thinking about the late, great Marvin Gaye; his smooth moves, his velvet voice - begging for a witness. When his own father blasted him away, no-one saw a thing, ‘xcept Mama.
The pen twitched in my hand. Sod it. I wrote it down anyway.
“She wouldn’t tell me what they’d said.
‘You lied’ she cried.
She slammed the hilt against my head.
‘I tried’ I lied.
She shot me dead.”
Clare stood at the kitchen door, moist mascara blackening beneath sad eyes. The pistol in her snowy-white hand didn’t surprise me. I knew she hated my lazy, cheating arse.
I stood, and shrugged. What was there to say? The lyrics fell from my lap to the floor. I took a step towards her, not bothering to say sorry.
You know the rest…
(c) Lily Childs November 2009
_______________________________________
This story was the winner of the November 2009 'One Word Challenge' from Writing Magazine's online forum 'Talkback.'
Writers are given a single word and must produce a piece of flash fiction in 200 words or less, or a poem in 40 lines or less. November's word was 'Witness.'
You can see my poetry entry at http://micheleranger.blogspot.com/2009/12/who-sees.html
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
All the best...
If it wasn't for Matt Hilton and Col Bury's TK'n'C I wouldn't be as enthusiastic about writing as I am today.
Far from the tea-sipping, jam sponge-munching grannies worshipping the local vicar I was scared the 'writing community' was, I have found reason, treason, misreason and unbelievable honesty in all the writers I have met since going heavy at the beginning of this year.
They are:
If you want to see any of my own stuff on TK'n'C, click here. Apparently it's, erm... rather shocking. I'm so glad.
Far from the tea-sipping, jam sponge-munching grannies worshipping the local vicar I was scared the 'writing community' was, I have found reason, treason, misreason and unbelievable honesty in all the writers I have met since going heavy at the beginning of this year.
- Mat Hilton, best selling author of Dead Men's Dust and Judgement & Wrath Website/blog
- Col Bury, co-editor of TK'n'C, destined for great things in noir TK'n'C | Website/blog
- Lee Hughes, by the Goddess, you need to read his stuff. It twists with dark excitement. TK'n'C | Website/blog
- David Barber, dark, clever and horridly humerous. TK'n'C | Website/blog
- A.J. Humpage - AJ's writing is terrifyingly piercing. I defy your heart not to scream in terror or emotion. TK'n'C
- Pixie J. King.Watch this girl. She may be young but she never fails to stun with her insights. TK'n'C | Website/blog
If you want to see any of my own stuff on TK'n'C, click here. Apparently it's, erm... rather shocking. I'm so glad.
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Fad
My soft grotesque
Stomach in and
Belly out.
Rippling flab,
Fat flesh, stout.
Misconception,
Dissillusioned.
Slimming words
Fell from my mouth,
Losing weight.
Redundant tits,
Pointing south.
(c) Lily Childs November 2009
Original Artwork 'Tulip' in pen and ink by Laurence Ranger (c)
Original Artwork 'Tulip' in pen and ink by Laurence Ranger (c)
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