Thursday, May 25

59. (Fiction, life, and dreams.)

So, I just compiled and sent a friend of mine (currently in Europe for the Summer) a copy of all the fiction I've written that I like enough to consider representative of my work. It's 57 pages long, single-spaced, 12-point Times New Roman with 14-point Georgia titles and 12-point Georgia section seperations in one of the stories. It spans three years worth of short stories, from January 2003 to May 2006. It contains:

Need (currently unpublished on the intarwebs)
City
Lost
House
Names
The Blind Bravery of Thieves

And then, on a whim, I printed myself out a copy, three-whole-punched the whole thing, and put it in a binder.

Holding it in my hands gave me chills.

Ω

-Jayson Marsh, writer extraordinaire


PS: if you'd like a copy, I have a digital back-up saved in my GMail that I could easily forward to you. Just let me know.

That is, if there's anyone who actually reads this thing.

Tuesday, May 9

58. (Neil Gaiman - From Anansi Boys.)

"Er. You're bored with talking to me now, and you're going to let me pass unhindered," he told the dragon, with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Gosh. Good try. But I'm afraid not," said the dragon, enthusiastically. "Actually, I'm going to eat you."

"You aren't scared of limes, are you?" asked Charlie, before remembering that he'd given the lime to Daisy.

The creature laughed, scornfully. "I," it said, "am frightened of nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," it said.

Charlie said, "Are you extremely frightened of nothing?"

"Absolutely terrified by it," admitted the Dragon.

"You know," said Charlie, "I have nothing in my pockets. Would you like to see it?"

"No," said the Dragon, uncomfortably, "I most definately would not."

There was a flapping of wings like sails, and Charlie was alone on the beach. "That," he said, "was much to easy."

(pages 303 and 304)