Ten Journeys

Various

Description

The latest in the acclaimed Short Story Reinvented Series, 10 Journeys offers a unique array of poignant journeys both literal and psychological. Evocative and highly engaging, the stories transform everyday accounts into the most accessible yet powerful collection possible. Presenting a host of talented writers, each story compares and contrasts to encapsulate the individuality of short fiction. Sometimes dark and stimulating, other times charming and simply beautiful, these stories illustrate a portrait of unexpected wealth in ten bite-size chunks.

Sujets

• Anthologies
• Anthology
• General officer
• Short story
• General
• Fiction
• Anthologie

Informations

• Publié par: Legend Press
• Date de parution: 24 avril 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781907756412
• Langue: English

Extrait

Legend Press Ltd, 2 London Wall Buildings, London EC2M 5UU info legend-paperbooks.co.uk www.legendpress.co.uk www.twitter.com/legend_press
Contents Cassandra Parkin, Dave Foxall, Guy Mankowski, Alistair Meldrum, Paul Burman, Ari O Connell, Josie Henley-Einion, Brendan Telford, Anne Devereux, A.J. Kirby 2010
The right of the above authors to be identified as the authors of this work has be asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data available. ISBN 978-1-9065581-9-2
All characters, other than those clearly in the public domain, and place names, other than those well-established such as towns and cities, are fictitious and any resemblance is purely coincidental.
Edited by Lauren Parsons-Wolff
Set in Times Printed by J. H. Haynes and Co. Ltd., Sparkford.
Cover designed by Gudrun Jobst www.yotedesign.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Contents
Interview #17
by Cassandra Parkin
I m afraid to fly...
by Dave Foxall
The Willows
by Guy Mankowski
The New Head of Deaths
by Alistair Meldrum
At the Rawlings Place
by Paul Burman
Ukini Nageni
by Ari O Connell
Dear
by Josie Henley-Einion
Angel Wings
by Brendan Telford
What If You Slept
by Anne Devereux
Curious Case of Jenni Wen
by A.J. Kirby
The Short Story Reinvented series
Legend Press unique short-fiction series, The Short Story Reinvented, is designed for today s busy, but discerning, reader. Short fiction is a perfect answer in a world where everyone wants things to be easily accessible, sleek and tailored to fit their needs.
High-quality, thought-provoking short fiction can perfectly fill what before may have been an enforced gap of dead-time in a daily routine. Dipping into short fiction is not as daunting as delving into a thick novel on a commute or during a lunch break, when you know that you might soon be interrupted mid-chapter; yet the subject matter in this popular series is weighty and meaningful, providing something new to think about and feel inspired about for the rest of the day, week, month and year.
Legend Press receives hundreds of submissions for the collections, from all over the UK as well as from all around the world. The successful entries for each book are chosen so that all stories combine and contrast compellingly to make the most varied, yet at the same time the most cohesive, collection possible.
A Note from Legend Press
Not only this short story series but Legend Press itself, at the very beginning of its journey, began with a visit to a local shop one bright afternoon in London. There occurred the thought of how interesting it would be to have a glimpse into the minds of each person rushing, or strolling by, no doubt packed with their dramas, concerns, hopes and opinions - probably more fantastical than any fiction.
The collection became a flag-bearer of the importance of the short story and its relevance and enjoyment for a society now seemingly pressed to rush more than ever, bombarded with images, adverts and promotions; and harried away from the never-dying power of storytelling.
Five years on, its relevance and fit for the modern reader is as strong as ever. And the diversity, power, depth of the collection seems to have grown and grown.
We want to say thank you to everyone who has worked on the series - special mention to Gudrun, who has produced all of the covers, apart from that first one. Most importantly, thanks to all of the authors that have submitted and those that have been included - whether those such as E.C. Seaman, who have become regulars in the series, to those that have provided one memorable and brilliant story.
Since starting the series, there have undoubtedly been strides - for instance, large competitions - to boost the short story. These have been welcomed, although there is still a way to go before collections are on those front-of-shop bookshelves, deservedly basking on bright afternoons.
We really hope you enjoy this celebratory fifth collection, and in your own way add your voice in support of the power of the short story.
Tom Chalmers Managing Director, Legend Press
1 Interview #17 Cassandra Parkin
Author
Cassandra Parkin holds a Master s degree in English Literature at York University and now works as a senior brand manager for a Healthcare company in Hull. She has been writing fiction on and off since she first learned how to write, mostly to order as Christmas presents for family and friends. She has never lived in Idaho, never worked on Wall Street and never bankrupted a major corporation. She went to New York once, and thought it was very nice.
Ah, take a hike, you patronising, nosey son-of-a-bitch. I told you last time. I don t give a good god-damn about your project, and I certainly ain t tellin you the story of how I got here.
You think there s anything worthwhile down here in the gutter? I told you, boy, ain t nothing here but damage and horror, and lost, desperate souls. Take your lousy college project your fucking liberal compassion and your I just rilly feel like there s a story to be told here, sir, bleeding-heart West-Coast bullshit and get the hell outta here. You again? Got some cojones on you, aintcha? No offence. And don t think I don t know why you re comin after me so desperate and hopeful-like. I know what they told you. Talk to Tom, he s got a vocabulary of thirty-eight thousand words, even if half of them are fuckin obscenities. He s the exception. He chose to be down here, he coulda been anything if he d wanted. Tom, he s doing penance .
You re only here talking to me because you reckon I m more like you than I am like them. You want to hear about how a man starts out cradled in his momma s arms and ends up rotting away down here?
Go talk to Ron instead, down under the bridge. Charming fella if you happen to catch him in the right phase of the moon. Paranoid schizophrenic; self-medicates with booze. Half the time he s shouting at the sky, the other half he s layin in the mud... now there s a fascinating fucking journey for you if you want one; it s got everything. Tragedy. Pathos. Unexpected bouts of extreme violence. Yeah, I had you pegged for a goddamn pussy the first time I laid eyes on you. What is it this time? Oh, right, now you re gonna try and buy me off, huh. Well, I ain t for sale, and neither s my life story... what did you bring? Glenfiddich Ten-Year-Old Single Malt , are you shittin me? You bought a bottle of well-aged Scotch whisky to a down-and-out bum living on Skid Row? Ah, knock that off, would ya? I ain t dying, you loser, I m laughing . You finally managed to do something entertaining. And civilised. I hope you brought glasses. You can t drink this stuff outta the bottle... You did bring glasses. Huh. Well, OK. I ll make a deal with you. I ain t gonna tell you my story. My life journey s my business, and that ain t for sale. But I ll tell you a fable of the streets, a true morality tale for our times; a story every wet-behind-the-ears starry-eyed idiot oughta hear, at least once. This is the story of a man who managed to get himself a ticket for a ride on the Money Train. This story is about a man called Jack.
Jack English was a farmer-boy, grew up in the bible-belt of Idaho. Classic smallholding, the kind there ain t really room for no more in this fine and copasetic country of ours. Father was killed in one a them bizarre industrial accidents farmers are strangely prone to. You know the ones I mean. Jack s daddy went through a potato washer. Came out in lumps, apparently.
So anyway. Daddy went through the wringer; the farm went to the wall.
Jack, he was a college boy, great with numbers but a hopeless farmer, didn t have his daddy s magic touch with the soil. I guess these things sometimes skip a generation. Saw disaster crawling over the hill towards him, black and inevitable. Did everything he could to hold it off, but he didn t have it where it counts. Farming ain t bean-counting. You can t grow the crops or get the hens to lay, you ain t never gonna make it work.
Had to sell the land off, piece by piece. First the arable - Jack was always more of a people person, and a cow s closer to human than a cucumber. Then the pasture, along with those pretty-eyed ladies Jack was so attached to. Cows can be quite attractive, you know, in a big-tits-long-eyelashes kind of a way. Day the sale went through, Jack watched as his Jersey girls, his daddy s pride and joy, went wandering down to the milking shed as usual, only the farm hands hitching em up to the milking machine weren t working for him no more. The great cycle of grass, lactation, machinery and cow-shit kept right on turning without missing a beat. But he wasn t part of it. He d never been part of it; he was just some damned idiot who couldn t hang onto what he d inherited. He watched those ladies lining up, listened to them lowing in pleasure - hey, you don t think it feels good to get milked, you ask any nursing mom. He rustled the banker s draft in his pocket, and he bit his lip until it bled. Then he drove into town, found a bar, and got drunk. Pass that bottle, will ya? I notice you ain t drinkin yours. Don t worry on my account, I ain t gonna freak out at the sight of someone else drinking my booze. It may or may not surprise you to know that I ain t actually an alcoholic. I mean sure, I ve been drunk every time you ve been down here, and the first time you found me I was so completely pissy-eyed I could hardly speak, but that ain t because I got to be. Alcohol ain t never been my