Who's driving this thing?!

I love that moment when you are on the edge of your seat, totally engrossed in an action packed story. You have no idea what is going to happen next.How is the hero going to get out of this impossible situation?

... And the only thing you can do is keep typing to find out.

The Fabulous Furry Freakout

There are some events in life that people dream about, a celebrity sighting, a zombie apocalypse, losing their virginity, baking the perfect souffle. The most intriguing moment is when one of these WHOA! moments happens and you miss it.

I'm a member of a particularly active Facebook group called "Moody's Survivors" It's a fan-club for David Moody (author of the Autumn and Hater series). I've worked with David before on some audio projects (including scripting and directing an audio drama adaptation of his Autumn novel). A really nice guy, with great fans. Like most groups it's also a good forum to share your own work. I posted a link to the blog post about the Meow Cafe reading that I got ejected from. I think I linked to it on this group a few days ago. I linked to it in several places.

Someone mentioned in passing today that there was an absolute shit-storm went down on the Survivors list - over my post. What I have been told (and I have no way of verifying this, except it came from a source I trust) there were over 200 comments - which were a massive fight over this post and the story it related to. Some women were calling those who were defending me "pedophiles" and saying the story was "child pornography" and saying we should "all be arrested"

I'm not sure why they didn't just message me, or leave a comment on the blog post expressing their opinion. It's nice to know that in my absence (all this happened while I was offline) some fellow horror fans and writers defended me.

The only thing that concerns me, is that it's a story that people don't understand. I hope it's not because I'm a bad writer. I hope it's just because they have their own perceptions and fears.

So here is my analysis of the story.

It was written in response to a request. The requestor sent me this:

 Fun fact. Serial killers often keep the bodies of their victims, stashing them in the freezer or fridge, or burying them in shallow graves, or under the house, so that they can check in on them, care for them, and observe their deterioration. It's as if they nurture them like children, or lovers.

I was interested in that concept. The idea of someone who is completely devoid of normal human empathy and understanding being nurturing towards their victims.

So I started writing. There is nothing about a psychopath that is restrained. They generally don't react emotively or in normal ways (unless it's a learned response). So you have this first-person view story about a guy who has a clearly warped and monstrous view of the world.

It is evident in his language, his attitude and his behaviour. It's not justified, or presented in a way that is meant to glorify the behaviour. It is just presented. Uncensored, un-edited and in your face. You aren't meant to get off on it.You as a reader are meant to be disturbed by it. I know I was disturbed by it, and I wrote the damn thing.

The key element of the story that those who freak out over it seem to miss, is that the supporting cast are all dead. There is a reason that Theresa's eyeball popped out and fell in the popcorn. She's dead. The entire supporting cast isn't real. The voices he hears, the stories his alter-ego "Walter" tells him, it's all in his head. 

There is a reason that "Walter" made a hole in Lucy's stomach. It's because she's mummified. I have no idea how old she is. The only "little girl" referred to was a fantasy of "Walters" where he talks about leading little girls away from crowds. "Lucy" might have been in her mid-twenties for all I know. She is referred to as "the youngest" because someone has to be.

So people read it in response to the blog post. Some more people got offended. Accusations of various types were reportedly thrown about. I don't really care. I'm disappointed that people missed the key structure of the story, which if you do understand it, doesn't make it any less disturbing, but does give it the correct context.

If you want to read child-pornography, try those other best-selling works of fiction, the bible, the talamud and the koran.

And the LORD spake unto Moses, saying, Avenge the children of Israel of the Midianites ... And they warred against the Midianites, as the LORD commanded Moses; and they slew all the males ... And the children of Israel took all the women of Midian captives, and their little ones ... And Moses was wroth with the officers ... And Moses said unto them, Have ye saved all the women alive? ... Now therefore kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman that hath known man by lying with him. But all the women children, that have not known a man by lying with him, keep alive for yourselves. Numbers 31:1-18

 How shall we do for wives for them that remain, seeing we have sworn by the LORD that we will not give them of our daughters to wives? ... And the congregation sent thither twelve thousand men of the valiantest, and commanded them, saying, Go and smite the inhabitants of Jabeshgilead with the edge of the sword, with the women and the children. And this is the thing that ye shall do, Ye shall utterly destroy every male, and every woman that hath lain by man. And they found among the inhabitants of Jabeshgilead four hundred young virgins, that had known no man by lying with any male: and they brought them unto the camp to Shiloh. Judges 21:7-11


 "A child is betrothed by intercourse if she is 3 years and one day old" ~ The Talamud

Surah al-Talaaq 65:4: If a woman does not menstruate, either because she is very young or old and past menopause, then her ‘iddah is three months, because Allaah says (interpretation of the meaning): “And those of your women as have passed the age of monthly courses, for them the ‘Iddah (prescribed period), if you have doubt (about their periods), is three months; and for those who have no courses (i.e. they are still immature) their ‘Iddah (prescribed period) is three months likewise. [Basically an underage girl can be used for sex according to Islam]

Meow is a Pussy

It's easy to forget that not everyone has had the same experiences. Been to the same dark places and had the Abyss look back into them long and deep.

I went to Meow tonight. My friend Jason's band ANTLERGRAM were headlining a night of 3 bands. They wanted me to read some short stories in between sets/bands.

It was shaping up to be a good night. Some great musicians did their thing. I read a story, Pet Shop Boy which was well received. The crowd were relaxed, mature and I thought I'd try them on something a bit more fucked up. Okay a lot more fucked up. 

I read them the story that starts with this:

Fun fact. Serial killers often keep the bodies of their victims, stashing them in the freezer or fridge, or burying them in shallow graves, or under the house, so that they can check in on them, care for them, and observe their deterioration. It's as if they nurture them like children, or lovers.

It is not a long story. Under 1500 words. I got about half-way through it (to the "hole like a bellybutton" line). People were freaking out. Someone started screaming NO! NO! STOP! Then the owner of the place switched my mic off. He was completely freaked. It was him that was screaming. The audience was more stunned, shocked and bemused.

The irony is that this story was written in response to a request by Jason, who had invited me to read at this gig. So I left the stage. Leaving Jason and his band to soothe the ruffled feathers by saying, "I guess we found the limit."

I stayed, listened to their music (Antlergram are really good). Then I left. 

It's not their fault. It was a strong reminder that my creativity is shaped by my experiences. I'm influenced by some stuff that most people fortunately don't get to experience. I have no real interest in harming anyone. I just find it calming to direct my own inner shitstorm into extremes. The lesson learned is that we all have to keep our masks on at all times.

"Victims, aren't we all." ~ The Crow.

 
The story is below. You don't have to read it. But if you do, try not to freak the fuck out.

Fun fact. Serial killers often keep the bodies of their victims, stashing them in the freezer or fridge, or burying them in shallow graves, or under the house, so that they can check in on them, care for them, and observe their deterioration. It's as if they nurture them like children, or lovers.

Joshua likes to watch television and we often have to remind him that there are chores to be done before we can watch American Idol.

‘Those dishes won’t wash themselves young man,’ Nancy scolds.

We all chip in and the get the job done, then we make popcorn and drink sodas and laugh at the ugly little fucks screeching their sinful songs. Walter tells us about how he raped a girl that looked like that one when he was living in Memphis. I get hard

hearing him talk about how she screamed, the fear in her eyes and the way she begged him not to hurt her. Lucy says she knows Walter is lying, because he could never hurt a girl. He just wants to be friends. Walter is a friendly guy, he has big hands and they are perfect for holding a little girl’s hand. Holding it and leading her away from the crowds that are every where these days, especially on American Idol. We turn the sound off when the crowd screams because the noise upsets Theresa. She sits with my knees pressed against the sides of her head, keeping out the noise and once I pressed too hard, and her head broke and one of her eyeballs fell into the popcorn.

Of course I apologised and cleaned her up. I found a ping-pong ball in the basement, in a box with my old ping-pong set. One of the bats still has Mrs Henderson’s cat’s blood on it. I painted the ping-pong ball with Lucy’s nail polish, the blue one that makes her eyes pop. It wouldn’t fit in Theresa’s eye hole, so I cut the back off it and got the front bit in there and it looks great. Theresa has pretty eyes

now. I miss the English guy who used to judge American Idol. He wanted to fuck those little cunts. You could see it in his eyes when he told them they were a bunch of useless fucks. We Tivo all our television programs now and fast-forward through the breaks. Walter takes his cock out and plays with himself during the commercials otherwise.

After American Idol we watch movies, Lucy likes war films, if they have been good and the chores are done we sometimes watch our home movies. Theresa likes

the Christmas ones, where Walter has the Christmas lights that don’t work and he gets so fucking pissed off he strips the plastic off the wiring and plugs it into the wall.

Then he tortures the kitten with electric shocks until it shuts up. Theresa claps her hands and cheers, she likes the kitten movies.

After movies it’s time for bed, I tuck Lucy in first, she’s the youngest, and doesn’t like to sleep without a night light. I tell myself it’s naughty, but I sometimes, accidentally slide a hand up her nightie and touch her cunt. It has a hole in it that my fingers fit into. Once Walter came in and stuck his cock into her tiny hole, and his big fucking thing came right out her stomach. Just punched right through her and left a second hole, like a belly button. Now if I need to, I just fuck that hole. Cos’ it’s not fucking her cunt-parts so it’s not a sin.

Joshua next, He sleeps in the chair in my room. I put the knife in his hand and when I wake up in the night I can see it glinting in the moonlight and I know he will keep me safe. If Joshua is holding the knife then cunts aren’t getting cut.

Theresa wants me to touch her. She’s such a fucking slut. When it is time for bed she puts on her cheerleader uniform and dances with me. Walter would fuck her if I let him. He would fuck her ass and her face. He would punch holes in her with his cock until she was ugly again. I hold her gently and listen to her tell me she loves me.

I tell her that I love her too and can’t fuck her because then she would be a dirty slut and full of sin and Walter would break her perfect skin. I hear her crying when I slip out of the basement, whispering, “Nighty-night.”

Nancy doesn’t sleep. Her face throws shadows along the wall that nag and scold. I switch off the light and it shuts her up. The stretched skin of her face goes dark like disappointment and she’s just a lamp shade until morning.

Walter, he hates bed time. Says things to me like ‘We’re creatures of the fucking night man! We should be out there fucking cunts and making connections.’ Walter is big on connections. He wanted to connect with people by selling Amway. I don’t even understand half the shit he said when he showed up at my door. I invited him in because I could see the worms writhing on his tie. Big green, hairy fucking amoebas. After I shut him up by cutting his throat I looked up ties online. I found out that it’s called Paisley. Fucking amoeba fashion.

I burned the tie but it still haunts me. I’m glad Joshua is in my room at night. Holding the knife in case the green amoebas come slithering.

Now the house is silent, all my friends are resting, even Theresa has stopped crying. I lie in bed, alert to the creak of floor boards and listening to the slow breathing of Walter, Joshua, Theresa and Lucy as they sleep.