Fiction: Relic

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“Behold, the symbol of our faith and the focus of our works.”

The priest opened the small, sturdy wooden box. The interior was lined with bubble wrap, and the relic lay on a thick velvet cloth. The relic gleamed as the priest held it up in the fading light of the sunset. The members of the small congregation stared at the relic, their eyes filled with longing.

“Be of strong faith and good cheer,” the priest intoned, “in the certain hope that our efforts will bring about the Second Coming of the Power that will light our way once more.”

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Pen to Paper: Writers and Alcohol

Posted on by bryon

Let me be clear at the outset that I have no hatchet to grind, let alone to smash a tavern with. I am a teetotaler but strictly from medical necessity (it’s a migraine trigger) rather than preference (how do you think I learned it’s a migraine trigger?).

No, this entry comes about because I have collected some interesting quotations about writers and drinking. I think they would look a bit peculiar in the Wednesday Quotation spot bereft of larger context, so I decided to provide the context, and the quotations, here.

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Fiction: The Devil You Know

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Satan slouched on his throne, one leathery wing idly beating time to the off-key tune its owner hummed.

He watched the parade of souls stream by him. Some quailed and screamed at the sight of the overlord of evil; others, hoping to be spared a little misery, genuflected before the throne, not realizing that Satan fried every 417th person to do that.

As the endless line of wrecked humanity slunk past him, he would meditatively torture one in a particular fashion and another in a different way. For the better part of an hour, he drilled holes in various sordid souls so that he wasn’t the only one in Hell who was bored.

A flash of movement caught his eye; he turned his horned head to see one of his lieutenants rushing toward him. The demon bowed before his infernal lord.

“What?” Satan demanded.

“My prince, there is … something odd. Something new, and none of us in Admissions can explain it.”

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Pen to Paper: YA, It’s Good Literature

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I’ve begun scoping out the Young Adult section of my favorite area library. No one has asked if I have a learning disability, or if I’m getting a book for my child, or whether I’m a pervert trolling for youngsters; libraries are polite places. But if someone ever did clear a questioning throat, I always have a ready response: This is where the cool stuff is happening in books today.

YA librarian Gretchen Kolderup explains her involvement – both professional and personal – with YA literature. She gives us a good feel for what YA lit is and isn’t, and how it differs from adult literature. This point stands out for me: “YA lit has a freshness that I really enjoy, and it rarely gets bogged down in its own self-importance.”

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Fiction: Playing for Keeps

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“Two million dollars,” Fisher said, handing over the backpacks.

“Briefcases are traditional,” Panchera said, frowning.

“I had backpacks.”

Fisher waited with forced patience as Panchera unzipped the overstuffed purple backpack and checked the stacks of currency. One of his men opened the orange backpack and did the same.

“While you’re counting to two million,” Fisher said, “maybe you could bring my sister out.”

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Quotable 64

Posted on by bryon

The writer is both a sadist and a masochist. We create people we love, and then we torture them. The more we love them, and the more cleverly we torture them along the lines of their greatest vulnerability and fear, the better the story. Sometimes we try to protect them from getting booboos that are too big. Don’t. This is your protagonist, not your kid.
– Janet Fitch